He grabbed her around the waist, pulled her light body into an embrace, and rolled across the ground.
Just before slamming into the floor, he felt the steel pass close enough to singe the hair at the back of his head, and every hair on his body stood on end. But—he forced himself to dismiss it as his imagination, using the weight in his arms as an excuse, and continued rolling to put some distance between them.
On one knee, he looked back to see Elsa standing frozen in surprise. He'd actually gotten one over on her, and he let that thought show in a smug, twitching grin.
Elsa started to move toward that grin, but the barrage of ice pillars from behind forced her into a defensive stance. Thanking Fake
"Are you okay!? I was desperate, so if I touched you in a weird place, cut me some slack!"
"You wouldn't have to say that if you'd just been honest with your thanks. —Wait, why did you..."
"I have no idea! My body just moved! Seriously a miracle! A make-miracle! If I had to guess, you wouldn't know, but this means we're even, got it? Got it!"
He let go of
Felt—the girl who'd saved him from Elsa's murderous spree in the second world. He'd been able to repay that debt to her. The memories from that world meant nothing here, and in the end, both he and Felt had fallen before her blade just the same.
—Even so, the debt he'd received didn't vanish. And if he could still move, then what he had to do next was already decided.
"Alright, I can move somehow. Nearly dying once actually knocked some resolve into me, huh? Faked courage is still courage, reckless bravery is still bravery. Do it—when you've got to do it, you've gotta do it, so DO IT!"
"H-Hey, bro..."
"Listen up, listen to me. Got it, Felt? I'm going to buy time right now, same energy as when I fought to the death against old man
"—! That's not okay at all! What the hell, you want me to run away with my tail between my legs!?"
Her red eyes glared up at him, and Subaru leaned his face in to meet them head-on.
For a moment, Felt flinched at his resolve—he didn't let that slip by.
"That's right. Tuck your tail and run like a coward. Truth is, that's what I'd rather be doing. I don't want to spend a single extra second in this violent hellhole."
He ruffled her golden hair with brute force, then paused with a "But—"
"You're fifteen, I'm eighteen. So you're probably the youngest one here. Which means it's only right to choose the option that gives you the best chance of survival. That's just common sense."
"What the hell kind of speech is that... Stop screwing around, you were literally trembling a second ago!"
"A second ago was a second ago! Right now is right now! I'm not trembling right now, so that's good! —Anyway, do this before you think about it too much and freeze up. So hurry up and run!"
He pushed down her forehead to cut off any further objections and rose to his feet. That's when he spotted the club lying near him—old man Rom's, the one he'd let go of.
Hauling it up with considerable effort, it was absurdly heavy, but not impossible to swing.
"I can use this for a distraction shot. ...All those practice swings with that oversized bamboo sword every day really paid off. Who knew it was for this moment. I'm pretty great, honestly."
He praised himself while giving the club a few swings, then held his breath and waited for the right timing.
Behind him, Felt was holding her breath too and clearly had something to say, but he didn't have time to indulge her hesitation. With every passing second, everyone's chances of survival dropped.
Up ahead, Elsa's movements as she dueled the ice chunks showed no openings. Not that someone with zero real combat experience like Subaru could have spotted one anyway.
The best option was to strike the moment he was certain her attention was elsewhere—and without making a sound.
So he sliced down the biggest ice pillar he could find, and the instant Elsa's line of sight was completely blocked, Subaru swung the club without even remembering to breathe.
"—Tch!"
Either his desperate adrenaline had kicked in or something else entirely, because the club's swing speed exceeded anything he'd expected.
A blow that would have split a human skull like a watermelon—but "Your aim was spot-on. The pity is that your killing intent was so thick it was completely obvious."
"Killing intent!? I don't know how to control that!"
Elsa parried the strike from directly behind her by knocking the club away with the flat of her blade, deflecting its trajectory. Subaru shot back with the bravado of a sore loser, but bared his teeth.
"Now! Go, Felt—!!"
"————!!"
As if launched by Subaru's shout, Felt's small body shot forward on the wind.
Her speed was full throttle from the very first step. Blazing through the room at a pace the eye could barely follow, she broke through the ice pillar obstacles and the frozen floor alike, the girl's body hurtling toward the exit.
"You really think I'll let her go?"
Cutting across her path from the side was a throwing knife Elsa had pulled from inside her coat. A return to favor for Felt's earlier interference, no doubt. Simple in design, it flew straight and true, aimed squarely at Felt's fleeing back. But— "I'm asking you to let her go!!"
He kicked up the table beside him, intercepting the knife's trajectory.
The reflexive action paid off—the knife embedded itself uselessly in the battered desk. Internally, he cheered at his own miracle. Then— "Awesome! But ow, my toes hurt more than I expected—buhfgh!?!"
A long leg slammed into his temple, cutting short his self-congratulations and sending him crashing into the wall.
He'd hit shoulder-first, so his head was intact, but the unexpected force knocked his thoughts blank. Pain arrived late, along with a grand reprise of the taste of blood from yet another torn mouth.
"For the first time, I'm actually a little annoyed," Elsa said.
"Oh yeah? Bring it! Ha-ha-ha, how you like that!? I got one clean away! Let's keep this energy going—enjoy the thrill of being a loser!"
He stood and put on a brave front, throwing out taunts and provocation to draw Elsa's attention.
It was a strategy unlikely to yield much given her personality, but she seemed to read into his intent, deepening her smile and completely withdrawing Felt from her consciousness.
"Fine, I'll play along. But in exchange, don't let our dance get boring."
"Fair warning—if you're dancing with me, brace yourself. I've got no class, so I'll be stepping all over your feet."
The mental damage of a half-remembered fork dance—the one where he could never connect with the girl he liked—hit him briefly.
He spat out the blood pooling in his mouth and gripped the club he'd never let go of.
This wasn't a weapon he'd get many chances with. Forget about using it the way old man Rom had—all his focus went into meeting Elsa head-on as she closed the distance.
"Don't forget about me, too!" Fake Satella called.
Elsa didn't even bother looking behind her—she simply swung her blade and knocked every ice shard out of the air with contemptuous ease. At that inhuman level of perception, even Subaru couldn't keep up the quips.
"That little game's getting old... But you've still got more to show me?"
The question came low, and her smile was the color of blood.
Seeing that smile—the kind that sent chills racing down his spine—Subaru briefly locked eyes with Fake Satella. She responded to his gaze with a slight nod.
"If you've got some hidden true power or something, now's the time to use it."
"...I do have a trump card, but if I use it, nobody survives except me."
"We can still do this! We can still do this! Don't throw in the towel so soon! Why give up here!? We're still even! Go me!"
He flailed his arms and legs to prove he was still in the fight, desperately trying to keep Fake Satella from giving up. Despite the fact that they were in the middle of battle, the girl's expression softened just slightly.
"I'm not going to use it. You're still trying so hard. Struggling and struggling and struggling until you claw your way through. —Biting your parents' coins is a last resort, after all."
Looking at her resigned expression, something stirred inside Subaru.
He told himself it wasn't like him—this feeling welling up inside him.
It really wasn't. Not at all. This wasn't like him whatsoever.
He'd always been indifferent to the people around him, never influencing anything, never choosing to face any problem seriously, just drifting through life like some aimless cloud.
Expecting something from someone, or being expected to deliver by someone—it had all meant nothing to him. None of it mattered.
—But now, he was expecting. And because he expected, he'd been disappointed.
Her profile, that tense and strained expression, always searching for something—she'd shown him that face, and he'd wanted to see her smile.
The idea that she might give in, that she might accept resignation—that weak, fragile shift in expression being the very first real 'smile' he'd gotten from her was something he absolutely could not accept.
"That doesn't count..."
"—What?"
"Everything I said just now is off the table! All of it! I'm fired up now, BURNING!! I'm gonna do this, damn it!! I'm never letting you play that trump card!!"
He pointed a finger at both Fake Satella and Elsa, declaring his intent.
He stomped his feet, spat, and roared with every ounce of emotion.
"Don't make that face—you're ruining a beautiful woman's vibe! And don't you go making that face either! Read the room, you—DICTATOR OF THE YEAR!! Beautiful woman ruined—AGAIN!"
"You seem to have energy to spare."
"For once I haven't even bled yet! But tonight's club, 'Kotetsu,' is hungry for your blood, you know! Hmph! Hmph!"
He swung the club like a baseball bat, right there on the spot.
The weight dragged him off-balance, making him stumble, and Elsa leveled her Kukri knife at him.
"Playtime's over. Let's begin the dance. Keep up now."
"Don't you go down too fast. Right-hand throw, left-hand hit—don't underestimate me."
He thrust the club forward like he was calling a home run.
That extra flourish cost him—his first reaction to Elsa's lunging attack was delayed. He hurried to raise the club again, meeting the slender figure flying toward him.
The gust of wind struck Elsa in a sideways sweep, threatening to blow her temple clean off.
Zero mercy—a full-power swing meant for a kill shot, one that could quite possibly grind bone to pulp on contact. But "Like mercy is going to beat an opponent like this!"
The urgency of the situation made Subaru forget any thought of holding back.
Against the lethal blow, Elsa dropped even lower with practiced ease, sliding along the ground in a movement that practically kissed the floor to dodge it.
"Spider woman—!"
"I admit I was caught in a web there."
He saw the blade rising toward him and threw his body backward in instinct. But there was no escaping the range of the follow-up attack.
In that instant where he nearly forgot to blink, what flashed through Subaru's mind was the memory of standing on tatami for the first time on two legs, and his parents clapping and saying, "This child might be a genius."
"A life flash AND a review of this situation—what a pathetically sorry excuse for a memory—!!"
Fueled by that memory, shame launched his knee upward.
The blind, undirected strike connected squarely with Elsa's torso as she slid in head-on.
"Ugh—" A sultry groan escaped her lips, and the blade's trajectory wavered just slightly. Into that gap— "Ice shield—NICE COVER!!"
"I'm not really great at placing them exactly where I want. —That was close. I almost made an ice sculpture out of you."
"Out of me or out of Elsa!?"
The ice chunk that materialized near Subaru's face deflected the blade, and as he leaped away thanking Fake Satella, she wiped her brow in a gesture of relief.
At Subaru's next words, she hemmed and hawed before resuming her ice barrage as suppression fire against Elsa.
"Those little gnats are starting to get on my nerves. —Time to swat them down."
"Oh yeah, yeah—don't underestimate the insects. Get stung and swollen, and don't come crying to me!"
"So brave, hiding behind your safe zone."
Elsa focused on dodging the ice barrage, and Subaru taunted her to throw off that concentration.
In theory, he wanted to sneak in a shot at Elsa's back during the chaos of the barrage, but the fear of friendly fire held him back every time.
Fake Satella's support being thin whenever Subaru went on the offensive was probably because of this very issue.
The classic weakness of an improvised team—zero teamwork.
"But even these two would deepen their bond by overcoming trials together. Before long, trust would blossom into love, and once those two ignited, nothing could stop them..."
"I can't really hear what you're muttering under your breath, but I can tell it's something incredibly stupid."
"Standing in front of one woman while thinking about another—how utterly tactless can you be?"
"Boos from BOTH of them!!"
Even mid-exchange, Elsa still had composure to spare.
Subaru tracked her movements as she deflected ice chunks, occasionally slipping in a quick hit-and-retreat. His mind never stopped working.
Nothing had changed—they were losing ground steadily. The moment Elsa got serious, Subaru would go down just as easily as old man Rom. That much was obvious as fire.
The only reason it looked like he was holding his own was that she was underestimating them with her overwhelming power. Plus, Subaru's own cowardly instincts were holding him back one final step from crossing into lethal territory.
If Subaru had been the reckless, brave type, this stalemate would have ended in a single blow.
But then again, that timid instinct wouldn't keep working for long.
The slashes grew more ferocious by the second, and Subaru's emergency dodges couldn't keep up. Cuts multiplied.
Upper arm, calf, underarm—then nicks along his neck and shallow cuts he could barely register. Bloodstains began showing through his gray track suit, unable to be contained.
"Getting cut hurts! It hurts so much! I'm gonna cry from these crappy little wounds!"
"...I guess it's no good after all."
"Ah, sorry! Forget what I just said! So stop looking like you're about to give up and use your trump card! I can still do this! Seriously, totally, completely fine over here!"
He waved at Fake Satella, playing it cool, and then came a spinning back kick.
Completely different from his club routine—a deliberate attempt to surprise her with martial arts. But "There. Got you."
"Guah—"
The kick was sidestepped easily, and before his leg could even retract, she caught it lightly. The Kukri knife she raised was aimed right at the base of his raised leg, with more than enough speed and sharpness to chop it clean off.
Severed femoral artery—hemorrhage, shock, death. BAD END 4 flashed before his eyes.
"RAAAAGH—BURN SOMETHING UP INSIDE ME—!!!"
He tried to use the club gripped in his dominant hand as a guard, but the weight and his one-legged handicap made him too slow.
A wordless scream tore from Fake Satella, and the slash reached his leg without mercy— "—That's enough."
A column of flame plunged through the roof, landing in the center of the storeroom.
The inferno swept through the room with a terrifying, spectral force that froze even Elsa's violent assault in its tracks.
His leg freed, Subaru stumbled backward and landed flat on his rear.
And before him, through the billowing dust and smoke, he saw a brilliant crimson glow.
"Looked like a close one, but you made it in time. That's all that matters. Now—"
"You... you are..."
The flames wavered, and a foot stepped forward.
The direction was toward Elsa, who had leaped far to the side. She re-gripped her Kukri knife, and for the first time, her composed expression cracked as she squared off against the figure before her.
Before that overwhelming sense of presence, there was no longer any room to treat this fight as entertainment.
Subaru. Fake Satella. Even Elsa—all of them froze at the imposing sight.
Drawing every gaze in the room without so much as a flicker, that immaculate face remained perfectly composed.
The young man, his cerulean eyes filled with nothing but pure, genuine 'justice,' offered a faint smile.
"Shall we raise the curtain on this final act—!!"
He swept back his crimson hair, and the handsome man declared it with a resounding voice.