A black annihilation so furious and voluminous it could be mistaken for a nightmare itself spread across the sky, blotting it out entirely.
Beneath the feet of a woman wearing a warped smile, the mass of "Unseen Hands" gushing from the swelling shadow knew no limit.
Stretching skyward, with palms turned toward him—their number was beyond counting, approaching a hundred.
"Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti!!"
"Oh my? To be called out before I even introduce myself—how utterly curious, desu! The fingers you know of mine should be an entirely different set I'm moving, desu?"
Subaru screamed through the still-raging clouds of dust, and Petelgeuse heard him—furrowing his brow at the words' content while his expression grew ever more delighted—and stomped his foot down.
"It seems most of the fingertips I had lurking in the forest have been annihilated, obliterated, utterly wiped out—desu! But that too is of no consequence! The precious, irreplaceable lives of my devout believers—which must never be treated carelessly—all existed for this very moment, this very instant, desu! Oh! Ahh! Love, affection! My beloved
In his excitement, Petelgeuse jammed the fingers of his right hand into his mouth one after another, crushing them between his teeth, adorning the battlefield with a blood-soaked mad laugh. He shook his crimson-dripping arm and declared— "Now, let us begin the end, and proclaim the end of ends! And, and, and, and, and then, before my love, before my diligent devotion—offer up your body, your life, your soul—desu!!"
The moment the declaration left his lips, the arms blanketing the sky came crashing down toward them—and the Witch Cultists encircling the frenzied Petelgeuse likewise drew their cruciform daggers and charged.
In contrast, their side was a step behind, having had the initiative snatched from them at the outset.
The subjugation force was still mired in the chaos of the explosion from behind; smoke still billowed from the blast's epicenter. The whereabouts of the two pillars stationed there were a worry. But— " Ain't got no time to stand around gawking! Kill or be killed—that's how it goes, innit?!"
Riccard brandished his great axe, his sharp fangs glinting as he roared. That alone was enough to quell the beastman mercenaries' confusion, and with their commander leading the charge, every last one of them spurred their ligers into a gallop.
Simultaneously, Julius raised his knight's sword high, drawing the knights' gazes— "Do not let the actions of these despicable curs disturb your hearts! Behind us, our people—those we must protect—remain unchanged. All units—charge!!"
His sword swept downward, and Julius's earth dragon surged ahead first. The knights followed suit, hoisting their own weapons high and falling into formation along the path of the finest among them.
And so the combined force of mercenaries and knights charged forward—and leading them all, riding astride a sleek, dark-hued earth dragon with undignified desperation, was
Before either leader could quell their allies' confusion, Subaru had already ordered
There was no chance of winning.
If anything, Subaru was no stronger than before; even fighting a single dagger-wielding Cultist would leave him dead in moments.
And yet Subaru had to lead the charge. Because— "Come on, Petel! Aim for me! —You've got a whole hell of a lot of hands, and I can see every last one of them clear as day!!"
"———?!"
Suppressing his terror and wearing a grin of pure provocation, Subaru flipped the finger—freezing Petelgeuse's expression solid.
As if to prove his words, Subaru steered Patrasche with the reins, evading the invisible hands that lashed out at him in writhing waves.
Tilting right to dodge an extending arm, dropping low to avoid a palm thrust straight at him. Spinning sharply to slip through the cluster of arms blocking his path, then accelerating to leave the demonic hands closing in from every direction behind.
It wasn't Subaru's skill that made this possible—it was Patrasche reading Subaru's will through the reins and responding instantly, the single greatest factor in each successful evasion.
And having proven his own words, however narrowly, Subaru watched as Petelgeuse's expression—wearing the mask of an innocent young woman—twisted magnificently with rage and humiliation.
"What nonsense…that's impossible! Why, why why why why why—! My, my God-given, my exclusive, my sole affection! How can you, with those eyes eyes eyes eyes—!?"
"Guess the Witch's a little fickle, huh? Ohhhh, did you get played? Poor, poor you!"
"The sheer impudence! The sheer humiliation! The sheer disgrace! To speak that way not only to me, but even to the guide of my love—this cannot be allowed! This must not be permitted! This must never, ever be forgiven—desu!!"
Eyes bulging with bloodshot fury, foam forming at the corner of his mouth, Petelgeuse pressed his assault. The gathered black hands coalesced into a colossal palm, crushing down toward Subaru—but Patrasche dodged sharply to the left, breaking through the gap. The shockwave tore up the earth behind them, gouging a giant palm-shaped scar deep into the grassland.
"That was way too close! Seriously, it's close calls one after another from here on… but, now!"
Petelgeuse's eyes burned with loathing—he had completely lost himself, fixing his aim solely on Subaru.
Feeling his skin prickle with dread at the madman's lance pointed squarely at him, Subaru clenched his fist at the unfolding situation going exactly as he'd planned.
Given what had happened in the previous loop, he had anticipated that Petelgeuse—who had achieved possession and resurrection—would increase the number of his Unseen Hands.
If that invisible killing strike, invisible even to ordinary people, were deployed in countless numbers, even the subjugation force—which held the advantage in numbers—would be driven to annihilation.
And so Subaru had chosen to inflame Petelgeuse's maddening obsession with the Witch to its utmost, forcing the madman to focus entirely on him.
Behind them, meanwhile, the clash between the Witch Cult and the subjugation force had begun.
The first blow struck hard, the subjugation force's numerical advantage telling as the vanguard of Cultists was sent scattering through the air in sprays of blood. But from there, the unsettling, fluid movements of the remaining Cultists made it clear that the untrained knights were being pushed hard.
Expecting Subaru to keep drawing them in and for reinforcements to arrive immediately—that would be asking too much.
At the very least, Subaru lamented, if only Wilhelm—who held peerless strength in man-to-man combat—were still standing— "My thinking was too shallow…that's the mistake. If the enemy can die and possess someone else, I should've at least anticipated that self-destruction would be an option!"
The explosion of the dragon carriage carrying the previous Petelgeuse—that had to be the cause.
Petelgeuse had most likely planted something like a bomb on one of his followers' bodies beforehand, instructing them to activate it when the situation called for it.
As a result, the previous Petelgeuse's body had successfully transferred to a new one, dragging Subaru's key forces in the dragon carriage and its vicinity down with it.
Smoke still rose thickly from the blast epicenter. Wilhelm and
"I can't count on them coming out fine. —Go to plan, Patrasche!"
"Desudesudesudesudesudesudesudeeees!!"
Petelgeuse thrashed his head in frenzy, Unseen Hands deploying to block their path like a wall. But Subaru cut through with an immediate counter, closing the distance and thrusting toward Petelgeuse's stunned face— "Drift—boom!!"
"Buhaa!?"
Patrasche's pivot leg carved into the ground, and the flying chunks of earth struck Petelgeuse square in the face. Subaru raised his middle finger at that dirt-caked face, then steered Patrasche in a wide, taunting circle around him.
"Hey, hey! Even with a hundred hands, you're useless without a brain. Take a lesson from me and Patrasche—eye to eye, hand to hand, heart to heart, in perfect sync. You're Sloth, aren't you!?"
"———!!"
Words had entirely escaped Petelgeuse in his fury. In silence, he sent death's palm hurtling forward.
But because Subaru—blessed with extraordinary talent in the skill of "provocation"—had worked him into a frenzy, Petelgeuse's attacks were riddled with noise.
In other words, despite the overwhelming advantage of countless hands— "Your brain can't keep up! When the software requirements outstrip the hardware, it's a joke. You've rattled your brain too much, haven't you!?"
In this situation where a single misstep meant instant death, Subaru couldn't suppress a laugh at his own ability to crack jokes like this. A wheezing chuckle escaped him, which only intensified its effect as a provocation against Petelgeuse.
What should have been a razor's-edge exchange was beginning to feel routine.
Just hours ago, staying in sync with Patrasche had been an effort in itself—but now their breathing, their very heartbeats aligned, and each other's intentions flowed clearly through the reins.
This was what Julius had meant by "entrusting your trust and yielding to the wind."
—He now understood those words not through language, but with his heart.
"——Ru!!"
Subaru's eardrums caught it through the parting dust—amid the centrifugal force of the sharp turn churning his insides, his mind burning hotter with exhilaration than nausea.
From far, far away, it was the sound of someone calling his name, and the voice's owner was unmistakable— "Subaru—!!"
Leaning out of a dragon carriage window as it rapidly accelerated, trying to escape the combat zone, her long silver hair streaming wildly in the wind—Subaru caught a distant glimpse of
The evacuation—they weren't the only ones fleeing. All around, the merchant carriages that had been carrying the villagers were beginning to flee as well, each with a handful of knights assigned as escorts. Every detail of their escape had been arranged in advance.
The Witch Cult's final, desperate flail—this too had been anticipated.
In a battle, you couldn't match the Cultists' disregard for everything when they brought noncombatants along. So beforehand, the merchants had been instructed to evacuate the moment fighting began. The villagers who could be calmly reasoned with had been told only enough to keep panic from spreading, loaded onto separate carriages, and prepared for exactly this scenario.
And naturally,
Subaru had not told Emilia.
From inside the departing carriage, he could see her face contorted in anguish.
He could see the shock of an unbearable betrayal carved into her features, and that image drove a deep, lacerating pain into Subaru's chest.
Yet Subaru buried that inner blow, and despite the violent vibrations and wind, released one hand from the unfamiliar reins to give a thumbs-up.
"Leave it to me—easy peasy, I'm Natsuki Subaru! Go on ahead, Emilia-tan! —I'll catch up in no time, and we'll share a tearful, emotional embrace!"
"———!!"
He couldn't tell if she'd seen him baring his teeth in that grin, but from the carriage already disappearing down the forest path, only a voiceless cry reached him now.
Once he confirmed that her group had made it safely out of the combat zone, Subaru let out a deep breath and turned back to Petelgeuse.
"I'm surprised you actually waited patiently. Didn't take you for the sentimental type."
"Shut up shut up shut up shut up, desu! I was not standing idle—you were the one dodging everything! Arrogant! Blasphemous! Refusing the Witch's love, her embrace! What愚蠢foolishness drives you to such lengths! Why must you…!"
"Oh, you were actually attacking? Your hands are so slow when they're visible, I thought a fly could land on them, so I figured you'd stopped. Keep going at that nice leisurely pace—I'm fine with that…"
Continuing his provocations in peak form, Subaru suddenly raised his eyebrows at a shift in the battlefield's atmosphere. Behind him, where Petelgeuse and Subaru had been locked in their duel, a major change had occurred at the point where the Witch Cult and the subjugation force clashed.
—Several Cultists' bodies had been launched skyward in a shower of blood雾雾.
"Hmm!!"
A glittering holy blade parried, trading blood and sunlight as the swordwork turned savage at terrifying speed. Arms, legs, heads, torsos—all were mown down before that edge, and the knights behind pressed the advantage, cutting down every enemy sent flying.
Drenched head to toe in blood, a demon of the sword running rampant across the battlefield—Wilhelm had entered the fight.
"Wilhelm!!"
Subaru cheered at his survival, and Petelgeuse bit the corner of his mouth in loathing.
As if answering Subaru's cry, Wilhelm moved low as a crawling thing, bisecting two more Cultists from the knees down. He sidestepped incoming fireballs, accelerating through an inferno at his back, mass-producing death.
Wilhelm's arrival shifted the momentum decisively in their favor.
Riccard and Julius launched fierce assaults in the Sword Demon's wake—every swing of the great axe was accompanied by the sound of flesh bursting, and every flash of a knight's sword scattered sparks of mana.
And from the wreckage of the dragon carriage at the blast site, where smoke had finally begun to clear, a figure emerged as if crawling free—a scorched tarp draped over their shoulders to cover a nearly naked body.
Ferris. Having taken the brunt of the explosion at point-blank range, he too was alive and well. His woman-like beauty and meticulously groomed hair showed not a trace of damage—only his clothing had failed to survive unscathed.
"Oh, seriously—I didn't even die a single time! Old Man Wilhelm! Just cut those guys to pieces already, nyaa!"
Raising a small fist, the half-naked catboy cheered the Sword Demon in a high-pitched voice.
Despite the unsettling nature of his appearance and cry, Subaru shot Petelgeuse a triumphant grin.
"Your suicide bombing killed no one! The battle's decided! Give it up already!"
"Give up? Do you truly think—do you truly, truly think such a thing, such foolishness, such idiocy would be permitted, desu!? That I—the 'Sloth'—would sink into a 'slothful' choice of abandoning thought and will? The ultimate insult, desu! The ultimate humiliation! With every ounce of my diligence, I shall repay the Witch's love…! If that is the only reason needed to wash away this dishonor—!!"
Petelgeuse spread his arms wide, and the countless invisible hands that had been erupting from his body suddenly vanished.
A chill of foreboding ran through Subaru. But the distance he'd been keeping for evasion now worked against him, and in that split second, he couldn't close the gap.
The next instant— "Witch! Guide of my beloved love! I offer, I offer this—! Come, you faithless degenerates who turned your backs on love! You love-starved, wretched things who know nothing of love!"
"Wait, Petelgeuse—you bastard!!"
"Now—be 'Slothful'!!"
The next moment, a black wave surged across the battlefield, swallowing everything—and the front line collapsed.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Witch Cult Sin Archbishop of "Sloth"—Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti.
This would be the fourth time Subaru faced this man, and he could say without hesitation that no enemy had tormented him more since being summoned to this world.
Eleven times now, Subaru had lost his life in this world, each death seared into his soul with unforgettable weight. Every death had been different—never the same path twice.
Overwhelming power gaps. Unavoidable injustice. Momentary lapses in vigilance. Failed gambles born from crossed intentions. Again and again, Natsuki Subaru had let life slip through his fingers.
There had been horrifying enemies. Encounters that shattered his spirit. Existences so overwhelming they defied comprehension. Against all of them, the powerless Natsuki Subaru had broken time and again.
And yet he had always risen. But this man's viciousness—compared to every horror before—it stood alone in its malevolence.
The Unseen Hands—invisible arms that reached out and tore everything apart.
Possession—the ability to discard a dead body and transfer one's soul into a follower's flesh to continue living.
And Sloth—the most devastating authority in a multi-combat situation.
That terrible force, which he had nearly forgotten, now blanketed the battlefield, and the subjugation force—previously pressing forward with unstoppable momentum—had their fighting spirit shattered. No—their fighting spirit hadn't been broken. Their sanity had.
"———!!"
"Aahhh!?"
Screams and shrieks echoed across the battlefield. Many dropped their weapons. And above all—the Witch Cultists were completely unaffected by Petelgeuse's "Sloth."
"Stop…!"
Subaru screamed, trying to halt it, but words meant nothing in this moment.
Faster than Subaru's voice could carry, the cruciform daggers drank blood. The spurting blood drew agonized cries, and the front line crumbled in an instant.
Subaru himself was immune to Sloth's effect, but he had no way of knowing what symptoms the spiritual pollution inflicted on those it touched. Those under its influence were driven to froth at the mouth, roll their eyes white, and teeter on the brink of madness—tormented by hallucinations, auditory phantom, and phantom pain that didn't exist.
Only about fifteen of the roughly fifty-strong subjugation force had managed to resist the spiritual pollution's effects. The rest collapsed where they stood or were cut down by Cultist blades. The lone silver lining: the main fighters had mostly survived.
"Preposterous—! This is the same as the
Wilhelm parried three simultaneous strikes with a single swing, dragging a fallen comrade's body as he retreated. Riccard likewise shielded the cat siblings at his flanks, while Julius chanted a wind spell to raise a curtain of sand and dust for cover.
"Oh my, more survived than expected, desu! Splendid, desu! Delightful, desu! If this many promising individuals remain, the Cult can rest easy, desu!"
"Promising…? What the hell are you—! No, forget that—this situation…"
This was bad.
A single move had flipped everything on its head.
In terms of raw combat strength, accounting for those cut down before the spiritual pollution spread, the numbers were roughly even. But their side had far more wounded than dead, tying up the healthy fighters in rescue efforts.
The Cultists, meanwhile, didn't spare a thought for their fallen comrades. They trampled over allies who could have been saved with treatment, pressing their attacks even while mortally wounded, seeking mutual destruction.
And above all— "It seems your goal was to draw my attention as a diversion, desu?"
"—!?"
Subaru's objective had been seen through by Petelgeuse, and the shock showed clearly on his face.
Noticing it, Petelgeuse clapped his hands together, cheeks twisting with genuine delight— "Is that so! How truly, truly, truly, truly, truly diligent of you, desu! I don't know how you learned about my Unseen Hands and my fingertips, but knowing that, your actions up until now—everything, every move—makes perfect sense, desu! And…once I've understood that, there's no reason to pay you any mind, desu, is there?"
Having said this, Petelgeuse turned on his heel. His gaze was directed toward the battlefield where knights and Cultists clashed—and if those shadow-reaching fingertips turned that way, their disadvantage would only deepen.
At this vile turn, Subaru held his breath and ordered Patrasche to charge at the madman's back. If he could at least ram into him— "—You're Slothful, aren't you?"
"—!?!"
But it was precisely this rush of urgency that Petelgeuse had been counting on.
Extending a shadow, an invisible hand approached from directly behind Subaru's field of vision—catching Patrasche's tail at speed and hurling the earth dragon's massive body casually into the air.
After a violent sensation of being beaten by wind and force, tumbling in a freefall where up and down became meaningless—Subaru slammed back-first into the grass.
"Gah—"
His body screamed in protest, sparks scattered across his vision, and everything went black.
The impact drove from his back into his internal organs. His spasming lungs refused oxygen, and vomit surged up his throat, burning hot.
A split second later, ringing filled his ears and a lightning-like pain shot through his limbs, and a groan of agony spilled from Subaru's strangled throat.
It hurts, this is bad, this is bad, it hurts, it hurts, this is bad, this is bad!
With his limbs going numb and his insides convulsing, Subaru's consciousness was consumed by pain. His spinning mind mechanically lined up those danger signals like a cursed mantra.
He needed to do something—that much his instincts screamed—but the thought couldn't crystallize into meaning, couldn't take proper shape.
Shoving aside his crumbling rationality, only raw instinct remained.
If I don't move, I die. I don't want to die. I have to do something to survive.
But even if his body wanted to obey instinct, it wouldn't move. Subaru could only pant raggedly, barely maintaining consciousness. Then— "—Ow?"
"How utterly diligent, desu…"
At the sudden sensation, Subaru let out a groan of incomprehension. Petelgeuse, who had witnessed the outcome, looked on with an expression of genuine respect and awe.
What had happened? As Subaru's senses reeled, he turned his head and realized— Patrasche had seized Subaru around the waist in its jaws and was attempting to flee from Petelgeuse's evil grasp.
Without even the courtesy of placing its master on its back, the obsidian earth dragon, worried for its incapacitated rider, was trying to carry him to safety. Saved by that unwavering loyalty, Subaru managed to escape from Petelgeuse's reach.
Even Petelgeuse seemed somewhat moved by Patrasche's decision to protect its rider without orders, tears streaming from the eyes behind his palm-covered face.
"Earth dragon…oh, earth dragon! How magnificent, desu! Love, love, love love love love love ahhhhh!!"
Petelgeuse wept torrents of tears, stomping and spinning in circles in a frenzy. He aimed his palm at the retreating earth dragon's back but did not attack—his fingertips pointed upward, reaching out toward a beloved thing growing distant.
"Love! Supreme love! Selfless love! Pure love! How magnificent, desu! How beautiful, desu! To worry for its master, to run with nothing but that single intent—that will, that devotion, that way of loving—how admirable, desu! Oh, oh, ohhhh! Diligent, desu! You are the most diligent servant of love! Wonderful, wonderful, how wonderful!!"
The rapturous madman was lost in his own stage, completely indifferent to the escape itself.
Subaru, meanwhile, was carried across the grassland, around the battlefield, to the rear—where Ferris was tending to the wounded.
"Subaru-kun!? You got hurt!? Are you dead!?"
"Barely… alive. Whole body's killing me, but Patrasche got me here—oof."
Subaru answered with a wry smile at the harsh greeting. But the moment he reached Ferris's side, he was unceremoniously dumped onto the grass.
Face-first into the dirt, with the taste of leaves and soil in his mouth, Subaru stared in disbelief. He turned to Patrasche with a complaint— "If you carried me all the way here, the least you could do is—"
His words froze in his throat at the sight before him.
When Patrasche had been hurled by the Unseen Hands, its tail had been seized. The area at the base of the tail had been torn clean off, and an enormous amount of blood was still spilling out, staining the grass red. On top of that, two gashes along its flank, and—the left foreleg was crushed to a pulp from the tip down, no doubt from the impact of being thrown to the ground.
It was, without exaggeration, a portrait of devastation.
Having exhausted its remaining strength bringing Subaru to safety, Patrasche lowered its massive body to the ground with an earth-shaking thud. It lay there, breathing in shallow, shallow breaths, as though already dead.
Without thinking, Subaru clutched at its body.
"Hey! No way…Patrasche! You…this was my mistake, my judgment—I did this to you…hey!"
He called out, touched the dragon, but no response came. If anything, the faint sense of breathing grew weaker, the life fading.
"Ferris—Patrasche…please, help…"
"That dragon fulfilled its duty of protecting you with perfect pride. That alone—be proud of it."
Turning to Subaru with his trembling, pleading voice, Ferris delivered the words in a sharp, cutting tone.
For an instant, Subaru couldn't grasp their meaning. It wasn't the answer he wanted. It sounded as though he was being told to give up on Patrasche.
"That earth dragon gave its life. Neither you nor I can save everything. You understand, don't you?"
So cold—Subaru could feel the cruelty in Ferris's words at that moment. He started to object, but didn't know what to say.
All he had was the growing sense of distance, of Patrasche's presence blurring and fading, a loss pooling in his palm— "And besides, now that you've left your position…the Archbishop of Sin is on the move!"
"—!!"
Subaru looked up, and through the battlefield he could see the invisible hands extending toward the approaching fight.
In the palms' path stood two knights—the old knight and the young knight, both unaffected by the pollution and fighting valiantly— "You two, watch out—!"
Before his voice reached them, the palms tore both knights' heads from their bodies.
Blood sprayed. The heads, grasped by black hands, hung suspended in the air—then, as if they were ripe fruit, were crushed. A heartbeat later, the headless torsos convulsed and crumpled, and Petelgeuse roared with laughter.
"Now! Now! Now now now now now now now!! The beginning of the end, desu! Everything ends, desu! Bring the end to an end, and offer it all up! I am now deeply moved, tearful, overwhelmed with emotion, desu! And so, with my own hands, I shall lovingly grant you a peaceful end, desu!"
Petelgeuse's cackling and his selfish pronouncements would not stop.
Countless invisible hands emerged from the shadows, selecting their prey like a creature licking its lips.
Wilhelm and the others were on guard against the unseen threats, but there was no way to defend against the invisible hands of death—the moment they touched you, it was over.
"What…do I do…"
Subaru wracked his brain desperately.
He was the only one who understood the situation. If anyone could turn things around, it was Subaru.
But no matter how desperately he twisted his thoughts, no answer came—worse, half his consciousness was drifting toward Patrasche, who might have already faded.
What do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do what do I do what do I do— His brain felt as though it were about to burn out from the strain, but nothing surfaced beyond ragged breathing.
On the verge of despair at his own inadequacy, before he could even make a decision, Petelgeuse raised both arms as if to declare time's end— "—Hm!?"
A small body leaped aside on pure instinct. A split second later, mana converged on the spot where Petelgeuse had stood, and an ice stake erupted from below—narrowly missing the madman.
"Who on earth is this!?"
Petelgeuse spun around with a raised voice, squinting up at the hilltop.
Those nearby followed his gaze, and saw— The wind blew, and silver hair danced upon it. A beautiful girl stood with the sunlight behind her.
She was out of breath, sweat glistening on her brow—but her violet eyes had lost none of their strength.
"That's far enough, villain."
A voice like silver bells rang crisp and fierce across the wind of the grassland.
At the sight of her, Petelgeuse's eyes filled with joy—and Subaru's with dismay.
Having brought together the madman who should never have met her, and the girl who should never have been brought before him—Subaru's throat filled with the bitterness of his own helplessness.
The end was near. Without any light in sight, the curtain was falling.