——God, Buddha, and Lord Od Laguna. I vow never to play with children, for as long as I live.
△▼△▼△▼△ "For example, if I could use the
That was the first malicious idea that came to Petra's mind after Crind explained the existence of the Melancholy Witch Factor and its relationship with the Authority of Compression.
Crind had told them that he was not compatible with the Witch Factor, and as a result, using the Authority of Compression required him to pay a cost — a price. At the same time, the Melancholy Witch Factor was a one-of-a-kind factor created for a specific individual, and it would never be compatible with Petra.
Because of that, the special tag team of the "Demon"
The matter of the Melancholy Witch Factor was set aside from the agenda, and the issue was considered settled — with Crind using Compression to bring allies together and launch the decisive battle against the enemy. But as Al's Authority of Time Regression came to light, and as a strategy was devised to reliably stop Al's faction, the spotlight once again fell on the Authority of Melancholy.
Crind had told Petra and the others that it was impossible to use an Authority without paying the cost, as a result of his incompatibility with the Witch Factor. However, that could be turned on its head — "If the cost can be paid, then it means someone other than Crind could use Compression, right?"
Crind's expression didn't change at Petra's confirmation.
That, more than anything, convinced Petra that her theory was correct. If he truly wanted to hide it, Crind should have shown surprise and said, "The thought never even occurred to me."
"In order to do something about Al and his people, we absolutely need to scatter them all apart. Besides Al, the hardest opponent to deal with would be the Divine Dragon... but you'll handle that, Crind, right?"
"I can guarantee that as well. Crind is the key person who could serve as our trump card against the Divine Dragon
"...You are."
During the strategy meeting, Crind had been the one who boasted he could keep the Divine Dragon in check.
Honestly, between the matter of the Melancholy Witch Factor and whatever secrets he'd been keeping together with Roswaal, Petra felt a mix of exasperation and admiration. But being reliable was never a bad thing. Still, she couldn't just lean on Crind for everything.
"But if Crind is tied up dealing with the Divine Dragon, then we won't be able to use Compression to shuttle people in and out, will we?"
"I won't deny that. Affirmative. Of course, I will do everything in my power to ensure everyone is delivered to the battlefield..."
"No. That would kill the strength of Compression. The whole point of Compression is that it works like teleportation — deploying and redeploying forces as needed."
The words Crind had pledged with his quiet but fervent expression were surely not lies.
Delivering their maximum combat power reliably into enemy territory — that alone was an extraordinary result. But if they could ask for more, then this was a battle where they should.
"So that brings us to the matter of transferring the Authority. Before we discuss whether it's actually feasible, I'd like to establish a few things."
"...About that. I'm... hesitant."
"Crind, put all the cards on the table."
"......"
"I think right now we should be discussing what cards everyone holds and how much of each we can use. So — no secrets."
To Crind's hesitation, Petra made her demand clearly.
She understood his reluctance to speak, his dilemma over whether to withhold information. She understood, but this discussion was a council to save the kingdom, the world — Natsuki Subaru and the rest of them.
"No secrets." That was Petra's demand. Meili glared at her for it, which was almost endearing.
"...If we're talking about whether it's possible or not, then it is possible. Acknowledged. The Melancholy Witch Factor is not compatible with me either — I simply possess it. I take responsibility."
"Then it's just a matter of changing the owner? Hah! To think it could be handled so casually. If Crind had left it lying around, it would have been a catastrophe."
"Leaving it aside is one thing, but having it stolen or taken by force is also terrifying. ...In that sense, I understand why Crind was entrusted with it."
Surprisingly, the Melancholy Witch Factor had been managed in a rather precarious state.
The opinion that it made sense for Crind to be the one managing it — Petra agreed. Crind, who always handled everything with crisp efficiency and impeccable judgment, was the perfect custodian.
However — "That duty might be better handed off to someone else this time."
"Someone else... but Witch Factors are really, really dangerous things. I've seen one before, back in the
"...There are risks. Absolutely. But if it's used well..."
"Petra, I'm against this, you know."
A sharp, pointed voice — the most emotionally opposed — made Petra's brow droop.
She understood that Meili had been worried about her for a long time, and it made her happy. After all, when Petra had first met her, she'd tried to make Meili fall in love with her. She'd believed love was the best weapon to blunt someone's murderous intent. And it had been a smashing success.
"Maybe the effect was a little too strong, though."
*'I'm just letting you know — I'm with Meili on this. Couldn't hear the details, but Petra's already paying Crind for something. Pushing further is where I draw the line.'* A phantom voice that only Petra could hear gave her the reassuring feeling of being valued.
Let me say it clearly: Imaginary Subaru was a convenient delusion of Petra's — but he was unquestionably the real Subaru, and the fact that he would have said the same thing spoke volumes about how faithfully she'd reconstructed him.
"It's a good thing Frederica and
Meili alone had done plenty to waver Petra's resolve.
If Frederica and Beatrice had added their double punch, even Petra might have been knocked out. What if Garfiel and Otto had been there? Garfiel would have shouted in anger, but Petra felt like Otto would have understood.
Besides, if anyone was doing the most reckless thing in their camp right now, it was Otto. She didn't think he had any right to lecture her about anything.
Cradling the self-awareness of being a blissfully loved girl, Petra — "Let's properly divide our roles. So that everyone can do their job at its absolute best."
△▼△▼△▼△ ——God, Buddha, and Lord Od Laguna. I vow never to visit places of fond memory, for as long as I live.
△▼△▼△▼△ Squeezing the square box she'd tucked close to her body, Petra weighed her words, roped everyone in, and focused on the Melancholy Witch Factor she had taken into her care.
"I have to... concentrate."
By speaking it aloud, Petra forcefully reminded herself to stay sane. — Honestly, until today, Petra had believed herself to possess extraordinary mental fortitude.
She'd read the Book of the Dead without breaking, and she'd never once considered giving up on winning over the one she loved, even when he showed no interest in her whatsoever. For her age, she'd been through her fair share of hell and fire.
Even so, the destructive omnipotence that the Witch Factor brought made Petra's head spin.
"No good, no good, me... Subaru, cheer me on."
*'Petra, hang in there! Don't lose! You made a bet you were told not to make, and if you lose it now, that's it — I'll stop liking you!'* "Then I'll absolutely, definitely not lose..."
Having her beloved encourage her inside her own head and using that to pull herself together felt like a pretty terminal-stage coping mechanism, but since it actually worked, the power of love was truly great.
Who could stand against the power of love, in the face of Witch Factors?
Since the struggle against a Witch Factor was ultimately a mental battle, it only made sense that the power of love would be its special antidote. — And Petra, of all people, knew exactly how potent that medicine was, because it had transformed her from an ordinary village girl into something more.
Therefore — "Fire — eight — Noble! Flower — three — Warrior!"
A hoarse voice struck her eardrums hard. Petra's eyes flew open and she clenched her molars.
Compression activated, and in Petra's mind — an 8×8 grid, divided the same way as a chessboard — she slotted the designated personnel into their assigned positions on the battlefield.
Sure enough, in the blink of an eye, the two members of
"Huh? No way! Is that for real?"
Roy, who'd deflected the punch's impact with acrobatic ease, lifted his irritating face and finally peeled his gaze away from
Toward Petra, who stood at a distance from Ram, Meili, Ferrum, and Grassis — positioned to take in the entire battlefield — and old Man
"Petra, when did you become a Sin Archbishop?"
Was this what you'd expect from a Sin Archbishop? He could sense the location of the Witch Factor — no, if that were the case, he would have figured out this trick sooner. It was probably because he'd deduced that Compression was an Authority and worked out who was best positioned to use it. Not impressive at all.
"That's a terrible thing to say. If you're going to call me something rude, then use this instead."
Without betraying any hint of her wariness about his perceptiveness, Petra placed a hand on her chest, confirmed the feel of the small black box Crind had entrusted to her, stuck out her tongue and said: "The 'Witch of Melancholy' — Petra Leyte."
Claiming that title would, in most cases, be unwelcome.
Introducing yourself with it was bad enough — having someone else call you that was out of the question. It was a curse-like designation, loathed by all, regardless of one's resolve.
And yet, Petra declared it boldly, as if it were something to be proud of.
Because the master Petra served was the "Witch of Glaciation," and the one she loved was a gentle, noble knight who had given his heart to such a witch.
△▼△▼△▼△ ——God, Buddha, and Lord Od Laguna. I vow never to pick beautiful flowers, for as long as I live.
——God, Buddha, and Lord Od Laguna. I vow never to taste my favorite food, for as long as I live.
——God, Buddha, and Lord Od Laguna. I vow never to return home, for as long as I live.
△▼△▼△▼△ ——The "Witch of Melancholy," Petra Leyte.
When Petra declared herself such,
Ingesting a Witch Factor and becoming the possessor of an Authority — becoming what's called a "Witch," a "Demon," or a Sin Archbishop — was, by any reasonable standard, insane. That she had made this extraordinary decision filled Roy with a deep, fierce, burning sense of their unyielding thoroughness — in other words, their devotion, their love.
"This is the best...! I'm so glad I came!"
Spreading his arms wide, Roy choked with delight as he gave thanks for this hospitality and this encounter.
Having declared herself the Witch of Melancholy, Roy's deduction — that the opponent's Authority derived from Pride — had been proven wrong. However, he had once heard from the monster who called herself his mother that the Melancholy Witch Factor was special: a defective, one-of-a-kind factor compatible with no one. And it was one of the things his mother desired. If he asked about its whereabouts, she would surely be overjoyed.
Of course, he had absolutely no intention of sharing so much as a bite of this special delicacy with his mother.
"Such adorable selfishness from a hungry little child — she'll surely be forgiving about it, right?"
She was the embodiment of validation-seeking, and his mother loved nothing more than to be respected.
If she learned Roy had put himself above her, there was no telling what kind of tantrum she would throw.
Once, Roy had found his mother's selfishness insufferable. But now, he felt slightly differently — as though he could cherish even her pathological, narcissistic self-obsession as an irreplaceable part of who she was.
"Earth — six — Queen! Sun — six — Hunter! Shadow — five — Noble!"
In response to the giant elder's commands, a faint light kindled in Petra's eyes.
It wasn't actually a glow — it was the telltale strain of concentrating on an unfamiliar Authority, the tensing that betrayed effort. A trivial habit that wouldn't normally matter, but in a battle where moments decided life and death, even that became information that could mean survival or death.
In Roy's field of vision, Ram and the pig-man, along with Meili atop the Hungry Horse King, vanished. — And at the same instant they vanished, they appeared surrounding Roy from three sides, launching their attacks.
He understood the timing perfectly, clear as day, from the light in Petra's eyes.
"Yes, yes, pardon the intrusion!"
Just before the attacks landed, Roy pressed his palms together in front of his chest. — In that instant, the earth buckled upward like a sand mountain being squeezed from both sides, cutting off Ram and the pig-man's line of sight. Leaving those two to their own devices, Roy focused his attention on the noisiest baby's cry — without even turning around.
From the blind spot behind his head — there, the Hungry Horse King's bone spear bearing Meili, and the uncanny arm of Guiltylaw, launched in tandem, came swinging at him.
He swayed, dodged, dodged, dodged again, and licked his lips.
The Squeezer, Figur, was a burial-specialist assassin who used an anomalous ability to crush everything from both edges of his field of vision toward the center. The Thousand-Faced Saint, Ielna, possessed the broad vision and heart of one who never missed the tears of the weeping weak — a 360-degree gaze in every direction. — But the Queen of Magical Beasts, Meili, was no less formidable than either.
"Gaaah—!"
With the horde of Urglems, the Hungry Horse King of the Sand Sea, and the creature known as the "Jet-Black King of the Forest" — Guiltylaw — Roy found himself gasping in admiration at Meili's ability to deploy magical beasts one after another. He'd previewed her methods through Memory, but at the
"If you were born with that kind of divine blessing, your life must have been one wild ride! Come on, tell us all about how you've lived, Meili!"
"...How I've lived? You know, that's exactly what Big Brother Subaru and Big Sister
"Oh? And then, and then?"
Dodging the Hungry Horse King's bone spear and Guiltylaw's razor claws with agility, Roy licked his dribbling saliva as Meili glared at him with a face full of hostility and disgust, then blew a raspberry at him.
"Like that whole thing about love just now — what it really comes down to in the end isn't what you say, but who says it!"
A truth so absolute there was no island of rebuttal to land on. "Ha—!" Roy had nothing to say.
Behind Roy, the pig-man smashed through an earthen wall, and from above, Ram — who'd vanished and reappeared again — came falling. Encircled on three sides — front, back, and above — the space between Roy's legs and at his flanks distorted, was buried in the shadows of history, and finally consumed as the Demon Jester Yaldrey's magic technique activated — fire, ice, and earth spears materialized through magic, locking on in an instant.
The targets were Meili and the pig-man, and Ram — but she wasn't there.
"You've lost sight of Ram so many times. Why don't you just throw those eyes away?"
—She was there. At a distance close enough to embrace, Ram's slender form appeared.
△▼△▼△▼△ ——God, Buddha, and Lord Od Laguna. I vow never to cry in front of others, for as long as I live.
——God, Buddha, and Lord Od Laguna. I vow never to wipe away someone's tears, for as long as I live.
△▼△▼△▼△ "The Witch of Melancholy...!"
——The Squeezer × The Thousand-Faced Saint × The Demon Jester.
Even the power of these combined anomaly-bearers was surpassed, and Roy's throat let out a high sound as three forces pressed in from multiple angles — and he knew whose hand orchestrated it all.
The trembling in his voice was not from anger. It was ecstasy. His heart was pounding with an unstoppable thrill.
Following that pulse, Roy took the three-element spears he'd already aimed and redirected them to strike each other, and the resulting blast of wind and steam forced Ram and the others to reset the battlefield — "What—"
"You thought I'd 'Transfer' to avoid getting hurt?"
The scalding steam that should have enveloped the field and forced a Transfer through the Authority of Melancholy was violently torn apart, and from beyond it, the owner of those pale crimson eyes burst through.
Charging headfirst into a heat wave that would guarantee burns — Roy hadn't even considered the option of getting injured, and that blind spot had been exploited. Immediately, an option arose: using the Leaper's Transfer to force a reset on his own terms. — But then — "The best!"
The instant he acknowledged the magnificence of his opponent, Roy Alphard's Voracity awakened.
A cry of elation exploded in his skull, and countless options branched out and glowed in his mind.
He unlocked the treasury of stored Memory, rummaging through the chaos of countless treasures, searching for the gleaming one — the awakening cry of a dormant fortune waiting for its moment.
— The biggest question right now was the identity of this hospitality that had caused his Eclipse to fail.
"......"
He'd extended his hand toward Ram's soul, trying to devour her with Eclipse — and failed.
But she was unquestionably Ram. That much was clear even from the freshly devoured Memory. The source of the Memory called her Ram, everyone around her called her Ram, and she herself even used Ram as her first-person pronoun — thoroughly, entirely, she was Ram.
And yet, the name "Ram" had not satisfied the conditions for activating Eclipse. In cases like this, the most likely reason for Eclipse's failure was — "The... true name... has changed!"
What Eclipse required was to scrape the target from the roster of souls managed by Od Laguna. Therefore, the target's name had to be the one Od Laguna had on record.
In most cases, this was the name given at birth — the vow made when that prayer reached the great void of Od Laguna, and the true name was inscribed.
In principle, once established, a true name could not be changed regardless of what the individual considered themselves. The rare exceptions that Od Laguna would recognize for a name change were — "...Ram Meizers."
"—!"
The moment Ram pierced through the steam to deliver her blow, Roy reached her first.
The most common reason for a true name change was marriage. — And Ram had made Meili call her "my lady." Even from Memory, there was no doubt about whose side Ram's heart was on.
Certain of this, Roy extended his hand toward the soul of Ram — no, Ram Meizers — whose pale crimson eyes widened, and activated Eclipse, devouring her Memory, seeking to understand her completely — "Bon appétit— buegh—"
In that instant, as if something filthy had been stuffed into his open mouth, Roy's eyes bulged.
It was proof of Eclipse's failure — his entire body shook with violent rejection, and the composure he'd prepared to welcome his feast was ripped apart from within. His thoughts were consumed by an irrational question.
Why, how, understanding, marriage, Ram, true name, devotion to her sister, bad taste, Margrave, single-mindedness, stubbornness, excellence, reliability, only bad taste, only stubbornness, marriage, passion — "You peeked into Otto's Memory? What an idiot."
"Wha—?"
"You used this emergency as a pretext to conclude that Ram would settle as Lady Roswaal's partner? — If you truly knew Ram, you would never have made that mistake."
With Ram's thin smile of contempt, Roy understood.
Having Meili call her "my lady" was deliberate — a misdirection designed to lead him to a false conclusion based on the memories of those close to her. In truth, Roy had skipped the low-risk option of the Leaper and reached for Ram's soul, which he was certain he could devour.
A decision he would never have made if he'd devoured
"That's for Otto, by the way."
Ram's wind-wreathed fist, the pig-man's rock-hard knuckle, the searing bone spear wreathed in flame, and the brute arm of the savage beast — all four struck Roy Alphard at once.