"On me. There are four people who need rescuing in the mansion. All four are girls."
Standing on the racing dragon carriage's running board, Subaru held up four fingers as he laid out the situation.
The scenery blurred past at high speed, and the road was rough. Yet the carriage didn't shake, and the wind never reached them. Some part of his mind marveled at the sensation no matter how many times he experienced it, but Subaru kept his expression serious as the two listening stared at his upraised fingers.
"First is Frederica. She's Garfiel's big sister, as you know. If attackers show up, she's probably the only one who can buy us time."
"Big sis, huh… Honestly, it's been like ten years since I last saw her face."
Garfiel scratched at his short blond hair, wearing an awkward expression. Having stayed behind in the
"Has it really been ten years? From what the Margrave and
"Big sis probably felt awkward about it too. She never once came dragging that Roswaal bastard along… I got plenty of letters, though. Loads and loads of 'em."
"Sounds like you got them?"
"Never read a single one. Handed 'em all over to the old lady."
Garfiel turned his gaze away with a sulky look. His attitude toward the sister he hadn't seen was completely that of a child. Their reunion was sure to be quite the touching scene.
Subaru sighed. Otto, who apparently shared a similar sentiment, tugged the reins and said, "So, the second person is Petra, then?"
"That's right. The promising new maid at Roswaal's mansion—little Miss Petra, a bit of a know-it-all. She's a completely ordinary village girl with no pretense whatsoever, so if she gets targeted, her survival rate is zero."
In truth, within the context of the mansion attack, Petra's death rate so far had been exactly one hundred percent.
Of course, the death rates for the other three were also sky-high, but in Petra's case it was a matter of having no combat ability—she'd typically be dispatched right away.
If they wanted to protect her, they'd need to find her fast.
"The last one is
"I'm still half-and-half on that one, Chief. A twin sister who looks just like Ram? I've been around a long time and I'd remember that. No way I'd just forget someone like that."
"That's the kind of curse that makes you forget even your other half, Ram. As for fixing that, well, that's a different conversation… Either way, Rem isn't an urgent concern. The assassin targeting the mansion—Elsa—doesn't have Rem on her list. My guess is Rem's existence wasn't known at the time the contract was made."
"Even so, if Rem-san is found sleeping in the mansion, it won't end well, will it?"
"…That, it won't."
She was Elsa, after all.
Even if Rem wasn't part of the contract, the moment she was discovered, Elsa would reach for her on a whim. Subaru hadn't witnessed it with his own eyes, but Rem's death had occurred in certain loops.
All he could do was pray that Rem, who lay inactive, wouldn't be in a room Elsa happened to open.
"In any case, leaving things up to chance isn't exactly a great strategy."
"I'm counting on you guys, and also counting on our enemy. This is the
"Th-that's so cool…!"
Garfiel clenched his fists, eyes sparkling.
Having this much expectation heaped on what was essentially a throwaway line made Subaru feel a rare twinge of guilt. He'd have to introduce Garfiel to the real Fūrinkazan at a more leisurely time.
Making that resolution, Subaru frowned and looked at Garfiel.
"I've been wondering for a while, but is that really going to work? In that state?"
"We're in a hurry, aren't we? I mean, if there were a better way, I'd take it in a heartbeat."
Garfiel responded with a dissatisfied look at Subaru's hesitant tone.
Garfiel's point was valid, but so was Subaru's concern. After all, Garfiel was currently clinging to the outside of the dragon carriage, conversing with Subaru and the others through the window.
He gripped the window frame, letting his body hang as he dragged his feet along the ground beside the rapidly spinning wheels, being pulled along by the carriage.
Having once witnessed an enemy shoved into the carriage wheel and obliterated, Subaru found it impossible to watch calmly knowing that a single slip of the hands would recreate the scene.
"If something goes wrong and you end up flattened into paste, it'll trigger my PTSD for sure, and we'll be out of options for the mansion too."
"What's that for, Chief? You're being awful worrying. I told you I'm fine. Look, look, look! Look, look, look!"
"Stop it!! You'll die! I'll die before you do!"
Using his grip on the window frame as a pivot, Garfiel began spinning around with nothing but arm strength. This acrobatic feat was only possible because of the Blessing of Wind Protection surrounding him and Garfiel's inhuman grip strength. In fact, the window frame he was holding had deformed and creaked under the pressure—Otto, the carriage's owner, would surely be distraught later.
Either way— "The thing about the Blessing of Earth Spirits is that it doesn't activate unless your feet are planted on the ground. Since we need Garfiel to arrive at the mansion in peak condition—or close to it—we have no choice but to accept this as a necessary measure."
"I get the logic, but from the outside, it looks like you're running at full speed to shake off someone trying to board the carriage. And in reality, it's a fourteen-year-old boy dangling outside, being dragged along the ground at high speed."
"Whether you look at it from the outside or the inside, that description makes it sound pretty terrible, you know!?"
From Otto's position holding the reins, the last thing he wanted was for people to get that impression. The two earth dragons pulling the carriage—
Garfiel's acrobatic run served a purpose. The major wounds had been healed by
The distance from the Sanctuary to the mansion was about half a day. Even if Patrasche and the others pushed hard, how much leeway would there be to recover their stamina?
Garfiel, drawing strength from the earth through the Blessing of Earth Spirits, was still their trump card. Subaru and Otto's role was simply to prepare the stage for him to fight at full power.
"Anyway, our conversation got interrupted, Chief."
"Huh?"
"The earlier topic. There are four people to rescue, and we've only covered three. We haven't heard the name of the last one. Who might that be?"
Garfiel lifted his body to peer inside the carriage. He turned the same questioning look toward Otto that he'd directed at Subaru, but Otto simply shook his head and shrugged.
"Unfortunately, I haven't actually met that last person. I was at the mansion for about a week, but we never crossed paths."
"The kind of person who makes you not even want to see the face of someone who's never seen theirs? You sure you're all right, buddy?"
"I'd like to believe that wasn't the reason we didn't meet!"
Garfiel looked at Otto with something close to pity as Otto protested desperately.
Watching the noisy exchange, Subaru slapped his fist against the seat and let out a breath.
"The last one is…
"——"
At Subaru's words, Otto and Garfiel both fell silent and looked at him.
The earnest weight in his voice must have been convincing enough without explanation. Truly, these were reliable companions.
"I'm the one who'll get Beatrice out. I'll drag her out. It has to be me."
No one else would do. Subaru was the one who had to make this happen.
Even if Beatrice, on the surface, acted like she didn't want to.
"If you say so, Chief, then that's how it is."
"Should we also evacuate the people in the nearby Arlam village, if possible? To avoid confusion—I could handle that, if you'd like."
Each in their own way, the two backed Subaru's resolve.
Subaru had his role. And they had theirs.
Truly, genuinely, they were people you could count on.
"Thanks, you two idiots."
"You really can't say thanks gracefully, can you, you single idiot!"
※※※ The battle raged, escalating in ferocity and scattering destruction across the opulent mansion.
"——Guoooooh!!"
"Ahhh!!"
The clash of steel on steel, the sparks that flew like scraping flares, the impact of deflected slashes and blows—the violence was tearing apart the everyday of the moonlit Roswaal mansion.
Windows shattered with a light tinkle, carpets flew up from the shockwave that cracked the floor, and paintings on the walls were obliterated alongside the roaring.
"You're lovely, you know. Absolutely wonderful."
"Coming from anyone other than Ram, that don't make me half as happy!!"
His right arm, gripping the shield, shot out. It missed the dodging woman and embedded itself in the wall. Garfiel slid sideways after the retreating woman, swinging his right arm's momentum into a spin before driving a backfist with his left arm down at her shadow.
"Too bad."
"Not done yet!!"
The woman dodged and raised her blade, but Garfiel—still in motion from his left arm's strike—was faster. He wrenched his right arm from the wall and unleashed a blow. The woman aborted her knife swing and used the recoil to flip backward through the air. Garfiel's strike shattered the empty space where her feet had been an instant before.
"Haaaaah!!"
Left backfist.
Right straight punch.
Left spinning back kick.
Right thrust kick.
Left mid-level roundhouse.
He whirled, unleashing attack after attack in rapid succession, never letting up on the retreating woman. Eventually, dodging Garfiel's barrage took all of her attention, and when her retreating foot found the end of the hallway, she looked up.
"Get crushed!!"
Stepping in, Garfiel released both drawn-back arms simultaneously.
Both fists pierced the air, and silver violence reflected the moonlight as it hurtled toward the woman down the dark corridor.
A blow from those beastly arms would turn any living human into ground meat. The woman pressed her back to the wall, bent her knees slightly, and planted her right sole against it.
Then, aiming carefully at the incoming fists, she drove her curved blade forward as if trying to wedge it between the two shields. Steel ground against steel once more, and a blade was jammed into the gap between the two shields. But— "You think a trick like that'll work!!"
The woman's plan was to slip her blade between the two shields and impale Garfiel on the knife as he charged. However, Garfiel's raw power was not something that could be neutralized by a single slender arm.
The curved blade, its tip pinched vertically between the shields, couldn't break through—it bent grotesquely and snapped.
Just before that— "Shall I add one more trick, then?"
Planting her foot against the wall as a pivot, the woman's body spun vertically.
In that instant, her left leg rose in a backflip and kicked the pommel of the knife whose tip was still wedged between the shields, prying the gap between them slightly open.
Through that opening— "And this is the real one."
"——!?"
The woman's inverted left hand held a different knife from the one that had created the gap. The sinisterly shaped curved blade made this the third knife—how many did she have hidden?
A slim knife slipped easily through the gap between shield, shield, and blade.
The lethal edge approached without even the sound of cutting air, aimed squarely at Garfiel's neck. Even with instantaneous beast transformation, this was a vital point within vital points—a guaranteed fatal wound.
But Garfiel responded with a savage countermeasure.
"Lovely."
"I—I won't be moved by flattery!!"
Garfiel thrust his face forward, directly into the woman's vision. His sharp canines had clamped down, literally catching the blade of the woman's left hand. Blood dripped from the corner of his slightly cut mouth, and the iron tang of the knife stung his nostrils.
"Damn!!"
Clenching his jaw, Garfiel crushed the knife to pieces in an instant.
Spitting out the shards, he launched a claw-tipped kick straight upward at the inverted woman's head. She raised her already-retracted left arm to block the skull-splitting, full-power strike.
The sound of a wet rag being slammed against a wall rang out, and fresh blood splattered across the corridor. The woman wiped the blood from her face with her sleeve, exhaled deeply through her nose, and Garfiel turned around.
A few meters away, the woman had escaped from the dead-end with no exit. However, her left arm—from wrist to shoulder—had been twisted and broken at multiple joints into a gnarled mess.
"You think you can escape with just one arm? Ah, my mouth hurts."
"…Fufu, thank you. Oh… it hurts, it hurts so much. I can really feel that I'm alive."
"What? You like getting cut as much as cutting? Can't say I understand that. Well, not like I was planning to get along with you from the start."
The woman smiled dreamily even as blood dripped steadily from her wounds. Garfiel clacked his arm-shields together, a visceral disgust churning in his gut—then noticed someone behind her.
"Hey, sis. You still just standing there like before? Like I said, sorry to say it, but I can't exactly be showing off cool moves right now. Hurry up and get moving."
"Y-yes, you're right."
Frederica stammered but managed to nod at Garfiel's words.
To be precise, she hadn't been watching in silence—she'd been unable to move. The fight between Garfiel and the woman had been on an entirely different level.
If Frederica had entered that battle, she would have been eliminated within the first few exchanges. The skill of both combatants was that far above the rest.
Frederica glanced at the woman's back, then at the room she was trying to reach—Rem's room. In terms of distance, it was only a few meters, but no vision of reaching that room before the woman came to mind. Even though Frederica was supposedly much closer to it than the woman.
If she could just reach the room, she could hoist Rem and escape through the inner window.
"You don't need to be so wary, dear."
"Huh?"
"I'm completely smitten with your little brother at the moment. Whatever room you're heading to and whatever you plan to do there—I couldn't care less. All my interest is over there."
"——!!"
Without even glancing back, the woman guaranteed Frederica's safe passage.
Her words held no lie. She didn't seem like the type to deceive her opponent that way, nor was there any need to. Above all, the sincerity of her words was palpable to anyone who heard them.
The woman's consciousness was entirely consumed by Garfiel.
Frederica barely registered in her mind anymore—not even worth a passing thought.
And yet, from the woman's stance, a killing intent seeped forth so dense it could engulf the entire mansion—an aura of dread that made the sinister impression of their first encounter seem child's play.
"Sis."
"——I trust you."
At Garfiel's brief words, Frederica answered with her own brief words of trust.
She passed through the space saturated with the woman's demonic aura, enduring a crushing pressure as though swimming through water, reached the room she sought— "——"
And after casting one final glance at Garfiel, she slipped inside.
Having watched her go, Garfiel let out a deep breath.
"Letting my sis go—that wasn't some kinda flex, was it?"
"With a first-rate opponent like this in front of me, do I really look like the type who'd get distracted? Right now, you're the only one I see. Oh, I can't stand it."
An alluring, intoxicating sensuality intertwined with blood-soaked killing intent in the smiles of this extraordinary woman.
Bathed in what could only be described as a passionate gaze, Garfiel spread his legs and lowered his stance.
"Honestly, it makes my skin crawl. I'm gonna bite you apart and tear you to shreds."
"And I promise to drag out your intestines without a single scratch on them."
Letting her left arm hang limp, the woman twirled the knife in her uninjured right hand.
Then, leaning forward until her chest nearly touched the floor, she declared— "I am
"…And I'm the strongest shield there is, Garfiel Tinsel."
The instant the introductions ended, the woman moved first.
Her—Elsa's—smile melted into the darkness, and she moved with godlike speed that betrayed no trace of her injuries. The first sound of her feet striking the floor had barely registered before the impact of her hitting walls echoed from every direction.
She kicked the floor, kicked the walls, kicked the ceiling—Elsa's form closed in on Garfiel through a dizzying series of leaps. Her speed made it impossible to predict her trajectory, and her movements belonged to a creature unlike anything Garfiel had ever faced. This nightmarish advance couldn't be human, nor could it be beast.
Most astonishing of all, her speed was clearly greater than before she'd been wounded.
"Interesting—!!"
Facing the leaping shadow, Garfiel bared his fangs in a grin and moved to act.
If the enemy came at him with tricks, then Garfiel would respond in kind. As Elsa leaped again and again, Garfiel planted all four limbs on the ground and launched his hind legs like a spring.
Turning himself into a human-sized projectile, Garfiel rocketed down the mansion's straight hallway.
With his shield facing forward like a charging tiger, the shockwave shattered windowpanes and sent wall fragments flying in all directions.
"Gwah!!"
Without waiting to see the result, Garfiel let out a battle cry and drove his arms into the floor to brake hard. He flipped his body immediately, resuming a beast's stance as his hind legs cratered the ground.
The explosion shook the mansion. Carpet caught in the destruction scattered into tatters, flying through the air. Red fabric clung to Garfiel's body as he soared—instantly— "——!!"
"Ahahahaha!!"
Elsa's blade, diving from the ceiling, and Garfiel's shield, charging straight down the hallway, collided. The impact split the air, and the violence of the sound pierced through eardrums, shaking the moonlit corridor.
Laughing as she was repelled, Elsa spun sideways at high speed. Garfiel, his trajectory deflected by the force of her slash, crashed headfirst into the wall, punched clean through the stone, and tumbled into a guest room.
"Bah!"
Trailing white smoke, Garfiel rolled and immediately grabbed the leg of a nearby bed. His arm muscles swelled as he lifted the hundred-kilogram piece of furniture with ease and hurled it at the hole he'd just created. With a thunderous crash, the bed split in two—and from behind it, the black-clad woman hurled a silver blade.
He deflected it with his left shield and swung his right shield at the approaching Elsa's face. But it only grazed her trailing braid—she'd ducked just in time. The moment the tip of her black hair tickled his nose, Garfiel threw himself forward recklessly on instinct. The upward slash grazed between his legs, and as the curving blade shaved his back, he burst through the door and relocated the battlefield back to the hallway.
Without a moment to breathe, Elsa burst out after him. Garfiel launched a kick aimed at her slender waist. Direct hit—but no sensation. The woman twisted her body inhumanly, redirecting the impact along a trajectory that merely grazed her stomach's surface. In the moment Garfiel's extended leg left him stationary, the tip of her curved blade came screaming through the air.
Unlike the earlier slash from an awkward position, this one carried the speed and power to cleave his head in two if he tried to block it. Garfiel's decision came in an instant—he slid his right shield into the blade's path and deflected it, letting it flow into his left shield for a further deflection.
A grinding shriek. Red and yellow sparks burst into the air. Black eyes widened in astonishment. The woman's torso lay open. Garfiel roared and slammed his kicking foot into the ground, regaining his footing, and drove his fangs into Elsa's side—ready to tear out the insides befitting her grand epithet.
"——!!"
What stopped that fang-strike and jerked his head downward was nothing less than pure instinct.
Garfiel's left ear, dodged too late, exploded into mist. He tumbled through the blood fog in an evasive roll, planted his feet against the wall, and deflected the pursuing slash upward toward the ceiling. Dodge, dodge, dodge.
With the arm that had stabbed into the ceiling, he collapsed a section of the floor above, creating a gap in Elsa's pursuit and using it to disengage. Landing on hands and feet atop the carpet, Garfiel pressed his palm against the bleeding stump where the upper half of his left ear had been.
Breathing hard, Garfiel gritted his teeth against the searing pain. Then, watching Elsa stride through the lingering smoke, he raised the corner of his mouth.
"I thought I wrecked that left arm of yours so it'd be useless, you know."
"So you did. It hurt. But wounds on the human body heal, after all."
"In my admittedly narrow experience, arms that have been crumpled to a pulp don't heal in two minutes—that's not how a human body works."
Or rather, it went beyond the realm of living creatures entirely.
Even with Garfiel's Blessing of Earth Spirits, restoring a shattered arm to functionality required hours of rest—on mana-rich soil, at full relaxation. That was the best it could do.
To heal completely mid-battle, and in such a short time—the idea was absurd.
He'd heard from Subaru beforehand that she "couldn't be killed no matter how many times you killed her," and now Garfiel's own deductions from that moment were taking on a terrifying reality.
"In that case, let's cut to the chase. You ain't human. Don't know what you were born as, but I'm gonna put a stop to it."
"Surprisingly quick on the uptake for someone who doesn't look it."
"I told you, compliments from anyone but Ram don't do much for me. And that abnormal healing of yours—something about it rings a bell."
Pointing a finger at her, Garfiel spoke his deduction aloud.
As it happened, Garfiel was—perhaps surprisingly—a book lover. During the tedious years in the Sanctuary, with no one around to match his strength, reading had been an important way to pass the time.
That said, his preferred genres were adventure novels, myths, and legends—not exactly the stuff of scholarly knowledge. He'd never had much interest in that direction.
"In the books I've read, there were monsters and heroes so far-fetched you'd think they couldn't possibly exist. And among them, there was someone with a body just like yours."
"…It's a bit embarrassing to be compared to the products of picture-book fantasies."
"They weren't picture books—proper text-only books. …Well, they had illustrations sprinkled in, but that's beside the point. And it's not certain they were just fantasies."
Elsa listened with a perfectly composed expression.
Her willingness to play along until he finished talking was at odds with the ferocity she displayed in battle.
That composure—he'd crack it.
"Anyway, there was a story about an old witch who had the same kind of body as you."
"——"
The lazy wobbling of her blade's tip stopped.
Elsa's black eyes looked at Garfiel with a casual motion. He pointed his finger at her gaze.
"——That body of yours makes you a vampire, doesn't it!"
"I don't actually drink blood, you know."
The moment she said it, Elsa's body—still slightly breathless—kicked off the floor.
Both arms, now fully healed, gripped curved blades as she lunged at Garfiel. He caught the diagonal slash on both raised shields while simultaneously thrusting up a straight kick—Elsa's kick met his on the same trajectory, sole to sole, and both of them blasted backward.
"Not satisfied at all! The left arm's completely back to normal too!"
"While you were busy talking, I finished healing my ear too. We're even."
Garfiel secretly stuck out his tongue. Caught, then.
While she'd kept talking, he'd used healing magic with his left hand—the one that had been keeping the wound sealed—to treat his left ear. The missing portion would regrow gradually, but even so, if he took the same amount of damage as Elsa, his healing magic could only provide first aid.
"Not denying it means vampires are on the mark?"
"What others call me is their business. I don't drink blood, I eat normally, and stepping out in sunlight just makes the guards fuss—nothing happens to me."
"So the whole intestines-intestines thing is because you're a vampire?"
"That's a personal preference. I simply enjoy seeing colorful intestines and touching warm innards."
"That's way scarier than being a vampire."
In front of Garfiel, Elsa shrugged off her cumbersome black cloak.
Seeing this and judging that it meant she was getting serious, Garfiel bared his teeth and clacked his arm-shields together.
"
With those words, he charged at the onrushing Elsa, roaring as he swung his shield down to meet her.
※※※ —When the door opened, a flood of paper scent poured out from within.
The suffusing aroma carried the weight of years spent in that place. Or perhaps, if one took seriously the room's nickname—"the room where time has stopped"—the passage of years had nothing to do with it at all.
"I've had plenty to think about over at the Sanctuary, so I figure it's about time I heard what you've got to say too."
"Why…"
Without waiting for his master's permission, Subaru strode boldly into the library.
As always, the air was a blend of stillness and gloom. No sunlight streamed through the windows; there wasn't even a small ventilation slit. Stay too long and you'd feel sick—there was no doubt about that.
All the more so when the girl who greeted him by looking up was so utterly exhausted.
"How is it that you've found your way to this room again? I don't recall calling for you."
"Sorry, but showing up uninvited is kind of my thing. Back in middle school, I crashed a friend's birthday party when I wasn't invited and made things super awkward—that's a memory I'll never forget."
Even for Subaru, it was one of those moments he'd learned to exercise restraint after.
Though, to be fair, his follow-up had been to shrug it off, have the most fun of anyone there, and leave—and after that, he stopped getting invited to anyone's birthday.
"Let's not get into that—I'd tear up from the sadness."
"What do you mean, let's not? You're the one who brought it up. You do whatever you want, in everything."
"Yeah, I do whatever I want. Which is why, no matter how much you resist, I'm coming here."
Right in front of him, the girl caught her breath.
As if reflected in her eyes, Subaru bowed respectfully on the spot, then spoke— "I'm getting you out of here, Beatrice. This time, I'm dragging you out into the sunlight with my own hands, and we're going to play until that dress is covered in mud and you're black from head to toe."
At Subaru's declaration, the girl—Beatrice—sat as she always did atop a stepladder, hugging her own body.
Cradling a black-bound book in her arms, her trembling eyes stared at Subaru.