-- 'Return by Death'.

This ability allows one to turn back time at the cost of their life and gain the chance to redo the moments they have already lived. Under the influence of the fearsome 'Witch of Envy', Natsuki Subaru has used his life repeatedly to remove every hardship he faced by 'returning by death'.

And this has been done far more times than just two or three.

Counting only those he is aware of, over ten deaths have befallen Natsuki Subaru.

Not once was there an easy death. Never once was there an end that didn’t come with a sense of loss. Never once did he feel it was okay to let go of his life at the end.

Not once did Natsuki Subaru ever think he wanted to let go of his life.

Even so, Natsuki Subaru continued to lose his life and 'return by death'. Injustice, irrationality, and despair claimed his life. Yet, none of these injustices, irrationalities, or despairs were impossible to avoid if he chose to.

So why was Natsuki Subaru unable to avoid 'death'?

Because—

"—He's kind."

Because he unintentionally wished not to lose a single person. Prayed not to let go of a single person. Could not bring himself to dislike the idea of any one person vanishing.

Natsuki Subaru could not bring himself to think that anyone deserved to die.

Therefore, Natsuki Subaru continued to lose his life and 'return by death'. Every obstacle, every malice, every enemy, every beast, the Sin Archbishop, all stood in the way of his life. Time and time again, they killed Natsuki Subaru, gave him 'death', and shattered his soul.

But he knows—he understands.

Indeed, numerous enemies, unbelievable obstacles, unavoidable calamities, have ruthlessly taken Natsuki Subaru’s life. That is the truth. There’s no doubt about it.

But he knows. He feels it more acutely than anyone else.

More than enemies, more than calamities, more than absurdity. More than the shapeless malice called fate, what killed Natsuki Subaru.

—It is none other than someone who continually leans on Natsuki Subaru’s kindness.

"I don't think you need to be so troubled by it," he said.

"Even if Subaru tells me that, I still can't quite accept it," she replied.

Petra, holding the reins on the coach seat of the running dragon carriage, glanced at 'Natsuki Subaru', who was resting his chin in his hand beside her, and sighed with a touch of melancholy.

The 'Subaru' sitting next to Petra now was not the real Subaru.
It was, so to speak, a fantasy that Petra's mind was showing her on its own—an imaginary Subaru. As proof, he was slightly translucent and seemed to retain a hint of childlikeness when compared to the latest version of Subaru in Petra's mind.
That was probably because the 'Book of the Dead', which Petra had to relive, was from about a year and a half ago—from those few stormy days when she had just become a maid.

"Both Subaru and I have been through a lot..."

Considering the time that has passed since then, it’s only natural that they both would have grown, for better or worse.
Simply in terms of height and hair length, Petra had grown, and she prided herself on her remarkable progress as both a maid and a woman. Meanwhile, Subaru was forming strong bonds with Beatrice, being rowdy with Otto and Garfiel, and working closely together with Emilia in a heartwarming manner to grow. He was becoming more gallant and embodying the image of a confident man.
So, it's unavoidable if the 'Subaru' of that time seeming somewhat more childish compared to now.

—However, even so, he’s still cool.
Even if he's less masculine or fierce than he is now, his charm and cuteness are unfair advantages.

"No, no... Now is not the time for that, is it?"

Placing her hand on her forehead, Petra gently shook her head, reminding herself of her current focus.
It's okay, she can restrain herself. After all, it's not the first time Petra has conjured up an image of Subaru in her mind, making him say what she wanted to hear or strike the pose she liked.
Having imagined various scenarios from romantic picture stories and love poems, inserting herself and Subaru as the characters, crafted many times with flushed cheeks and a racing heart.
If she considers those as rehearsals, then the imaginary Subaru before her now feels even more tangible, lively, and effortlessly realistic.

"That's beyond the realm of imagination now, isn't it? It's not something you can handle with self-control, is it?"

"It's fine, it's about my state of mind. More importantly, don't look into my head."

"Don't be ridiculous! Even if you say don't look, I'm in your head, Petra!"

"――――"

Petra was taken aback by Subaru's retort and inadvertently held her breath. Seeing her reaction, Subaru scratched his cheek with a finger, as if reflecting on his words that went too far. With that gentle look of consideration, a clumsy yet characteristic response, Petra felt a renewed affection for him.

――The 'Book of the Dead' of Natsuki Subaru invaded the 'mind' of Petra Leyte.

Petra analyzed the events that happened to her in this way. Originally, Ezzo Cadner, an avid reader of the 'Book of the Dead', said that reading the book was a challenge that imposed a significant burden on the mind, but it shocked Petra far beyond what she had braced for.

However, the shock Petra experienced from Subaru's 'Book of the Dead' might have been something entirely different from what Ezzo had feared.

"…'Return by Death' and, beyond the great waterfall."

What Natsuki Subaru carried far exceeded Petra's imagination. The feelings he had when he left his home, met Petra and the others, the ordeals he faced, the resolve in his heart to fight for them—all of it—or rather, what Petra came to know, was only a small part.

Because it's hard to believe that Subaru, burdened with such a tragic fate, hasn't used that ability once since the records in the 'Book of the Dead' that Petra held. Surely, since then, Subaru has endured that feeling of having his soul torn away, heart clawed, and life trampled countless times, enduring, enduring until today.

"――――"

The irreparable damage to the heart that Ezzo feared had indeed been carved in. Probably, no, undoubtedly, Petra's heart had suffered a deep wound, her mental balance shattered, and her state precarious, she thought objectively.

The beloved who has died yet still lingers in fantasy, she exchanges words with this imaginary lover, finding herself swayed by his words in such a situation. This must mean her heart is completely ailing.

"But it's fine."

Love is blind, passion is a fever. Petra Leyte, consumed by her feelings of love, has lived up until today. As long as she acknowledges her abnormality, she can control it—or so she refuses to deceive herself with such convenient thoughts. No matter how much she claims to possess sound judgment, driving a car under the influence of alcohol is still wrong.

Neither Petra nor Subaru have a driver's license, nor can they recall ever driving under the influence, yet it's the same premise.

"Car, drunk driving, traffic light, Toriyanse..."

Suddenly, pulled by the words that sprang to mind, knowledge spills out like out-of-season clothes bursting from a closet. All these are words Petra knows, words she doesn't know, comfortably swaying between understanding and lack thereof, new yet familiar acquaintances.

If she doesn't meticulously sort through them, before she knows it, Petra would find herself slipping on men's clothing and carrying around a guilt whip.

"By the way, did you know my main weapon is a whip? Isn't that a bit extreme? And it seems like I'm getting overly familiar with Beatrice too. I can't keep up with this generation gap..."

"Incidentally, the master was disciplined by everyone, Garf also reflected on his phase, Otto hasn't been sleeping, and Emilia-sister is doing wonderfully well."

"So Roswaal was the mastermind behind it all... huh? Why was he forgiven?"

"You should discuss that with Subaru and Emilia-sister..."

For the record, Petra still hasn't forgiven Roswaal, so while she didn't oppose Subaru and Emilia's decisions back then, she also didn't agree with them. Of course, there have been many instances where they were saved because of Roswaal, especially with the Empire's movements. But that's a separate matter, and Petra intended to never forgive him in her life.

However, even more unforgivable than Roswaal now is someone else—

"—Petra."

"Even if you say that..."

With his quiet and gentle voice and serious gaze, the combined skill of 'Subaru' forcibly makes Petra forget her own breathing and heartbeat, leaving her with no choice but to turn away like a child. Ignoring the shameless plea from the heart beating inside her chest, Petra directed her consciousness straight ahead, towards the endless sea of sand.

Currently, Petra and her group's dragon carriage is dashing straight through the Augria Sand Dunes, having departed from the Pleiades Watchtower.

Beyond this sea of sand, there is a back they must catch up to. The opponent, using the wings of the 'Divine Dragon' and boasting greater mobility than an earth dragon blessed with protection against the wind, would have likely already leapt across the sea of sand. Catching up to them is no small feat. Additionally, there is another reason Petra and her group must hurry.

'The Witch of Envy.'

Subaru, sharing consciousness with the pondering Petra, voices the reason for their haste. They've been driving the dragon carriage recklessly for several hours now, covering a significant distance from the Pleiades Watchtower, yet the pressure that refuses to release Petra and her group's souls is ever-present.

It is the terrifying 'Witch' sealed within a shrine, constantly reaching out to punish Petra for reading the 'Book of the Dead' and stepping into forbidden territory. The monstrous black wave of her hands threatening to engulf and destroy the world is currently being held back by a single hero.

The 'Sword Saint', Reinhard van Astrea.

His solitary struggle holds back the overwhelming might of the 'Witch of Envy' beyond the tower, barely preventing the world's collapse and maintaining equilibrium. But still, the world resounds with deafening crashes and tremors as if heaven and earth are turning over, and continuous flashes like distant thunder persist. It feels as if the trumpet of the apocalypse is being blown endlessly. How long this balance can be maintained is unknown to Petra or anyone else. If there is one thing they know, it's just one—

'If Reinhard falls, everything will end.'

"Yes. If Reinhard... if Reinhard-san is gone, the 'Witch' will catch up to me. We can't predict how much damage will be done by then."

'She doesn't seem like the type to politely step aside and let others through.'

Petra imagined the 'Jealous Witch' kindly giving up her seat to an elderly person on a crowded train at Subaru's joke, but she couldn't laugh right now. In reality, if they wanted to minimize the damage, regardless of Reinhard's victory or defeat, Petra should stay at the Pleiades Watchtower and willingly accept having her mouth shut by the 'Witch.' However, if Petra even thought about such a thing for a moment—

"—That is absolutely not an option. I'd refuse it even if it meant dying."

"――――"

Hearing that directly from 'Subaru,' Petra was at a loss for words to counter. She had been aware that she was important to Subaru for some time. Of course, there were Emilia and Beatrice. Even Rem. She wasn’t arrogant to think she was treated more specially than them, but she was still sure of one thing—she was placed carefully on the shelf that Natsuki Subaru had created in his heart to hold important things. But until today, she didn’t know how much weight the word "even if it means dying" carried when Subaru said it with a joking bravado.

Natsuki Subaru truly was someone who would protect what was important to him, "even if it meant dying."

"—. Yes, I understand well. I don't want to die either. …Al, you have some way to stop the 'Witch,' right?"

"Yeah. That guy's not an idiot. There's no telling how much of the world would be destroyed. It’s certain he’s prepared to deal with it before that happens."

"Yes, absolutely."

"It's definite."

Petra nodded back at 'Subaru,' who spoke powerfully, clenching his fist. Catching up with Al, who left the tower, and getting him to reveal a plan to restrain the 'Witch.' The necessary steps seemed overwhelming, but how reliable Subaru's words were. Alas, as sad as it is, the same thing could be said for Petra, not just 'Subaru.'

'Subaru,' sharing consciousness with Petra, was fully aware of Petra's thoughts and fears. And for Petra too, sharing consciousness with 'Subaru,' Subaru's thoughts were fully transparent.

"If Al wants to end the world..."

A moment ago, the absolute certainty checked by Petra and "Subaru" would cease to exist. In the worst-case scenario, Al might not have any means to stop the "Witch of Envy" and could be allowing the world to fall apart, intending to take his dying heart with it. Having lost Priscilla Barielle, a master whom he adored—or perhaps held deeper love for—it's not strange for Al to bear resentment towards the world. However, it's also true that one cannot help but cling to a sliver of hope.

"I'm alive, Meili-chan is alive, and so are Garf and the others."

Al, who even managed to ally with the "Divine Dragon" Volcanica, held the power of life and death over Petra and the others at the tower. And he chose to exercise his right not to take lives, rather than take them. Is it overthinking to believe this is a sign of some fragment of hope left within Al?

"...It might not be overthinking, but it might not be like me."

"Yikes."

Beside Petra, murmuring with a finger to her lips, "Subaru" exaggeratedly shrugged his shoulders. When she glanced over, "Subaru," who gave an awkward smile, waved at her, and Petra narrowed her eyes. It's unclear to what extent "Subaru" influences Petra's current way of thinking. It can't possibly be that the effect of the "Book of the Dead" is just a bonus perk for Petra to see an imaginary Subaru.

"I should be careful..."

Petra loves Subaru, but she doesn't want to become him. Nor should she become someone like Subaru, who spreads kindness indiscriminately. Petra admires kind people and always wishes to be kind herself, but as long as people like Subaru and Emilia exist, that's enough. Petra wants to be someone who doesn't overlook the kindness of kind people as if it's a given. For that reason, she mustn't become too aligned with Natsuki Subaru's feelings.

"Petra-chan, it's about time to switch."

Just as she thought that, the small window of the dragon carriage opened, and she heard a voice from behind her. The one who said that was Meili, who had been resting in the passenger car. To her suggestion to switch roles as the driver, Petra shook her head and said, "No."

"I'm okay, so Meili-chan, take a break. You carried me while I was asleep and even drove away the magical beasts."

"I'm not as much as Flam-chan, who was carrying the Fang brother and the teacher. Besides, with the 'Sword Saint' and the 'Witch' fighting, the magical beasts don't seem to be paying attention either."

Meili shrugged her shoulders, and the exhaustion was clearly etched on her face, indicating that she hadn't felt at ease even while in the carriage. In reality, being in a situation where she could sense the 'Witch' from afar was like a frog being stared down by a snake. It was impossible for anyone to relax in such a condition. Given Meili's surprisingly strong sense of responsibility, it must have been even more difficult for her.

"What about Flam-chan? Is she still sleeping?"

"Yes, she’s still unconscious. But I want to rely on Flam-chan's blessing, and it's definitely the right choice."

'This kid... the sense of unease with Meili being here is incredible...'

The melancholic response from Meili and the astonishment from 'Subaru' overlapped. Despite the latter's reaction, Petra focused on the mentioned Flam and her blessing.

Flam's 'Blessing of Telepathy' allows her to communicate once a day with her twin sister. Although it’s just a single exchange, the ability to transmit and receive thoughts irrespective of the distance holds such an important position that it wouldn't be worth trading for anything else under the current circumstances. It seems the condition for the blessing to be 'once a day' is closely tied to her sleep, so the more urgent the situation, the more she needed to sleep. However, what Flam did for that purpose exceeded Petra's imagination.

"To think she would suddenly choke herself until she passed out..."

"She was probably too concerned about the 'Sword Saint' to rest normally. But the fact that she could make that kind of decision speaks volumes about being associated with that 'Sword Saint.' She's smaller than Petra-chan and me, yet she's such an extraordinary girl."

"I don't think Meili-chan is in any place to say that."
'Look who's talking.'

Petra and "Subaru's" quips coincided, causing Meili to curve her lips in dissatisfaction.

She only heard Petra's words, but by deliberately engaging in this out-of-place daily conversation, they averted their gaze from the pressure of the "witch."

And thanks to the mental stability they sought, they continued to run with single-minded determination.

“—!”

The unexpected high-pitched neigh came from the one who had been tirelessly exerting itself more than Petra, more than Meili, more than Flam, more than anyone else until now—Patrasche.

Patrasche, who shared the sense of urgency with Petra and the others in light of the events at Pleiades Watchtower, signaled the arrival of their destination—the end of the Sandy Sea.

There, the closest city to the Sand Sea, Mirula, came into view.

“Petra-chaan!”

“Yeah, I know!”

Responding to Meili's call, Petra leaned forward, gripping the reins tightly.

Patrasche, who had briefly shown concern for those behind, returned its focus to the front and entered the final sprint after running non-stop till now.

"I love you, Patrasche."

The imaginary Subaru, without physical form, sent words of unreachable gratitude and love to Patrasche.

While watching an untouchable hand caress the dragon's neck, in Petra's small mind, the roadmap they would need upon arrival at Mirula unrolled.

The end of that roadmap, the ultimate goal, was, of course, to prevent Al's actions, who had betrayed Natsuki Subaru—no, beyond that lay another goal.

To reach there—

The dragon carriage plunged through the town entrance gate and arrived at Mirula. With that, judging that they had passed through the Augria Sand Dunes, Petra opened her mouth wide.

Before doing anything, the one Petra and the others needed to rely on testified to not being able to enter the Augria Sand Dunes and saw Petra and the others off at this place.

Therefore, it means, paradoxically—

"—We've come back, so lend us your strength! You hear me, Clind-san!"

Yes, seeking the wildcard that could close the open distance to zero, Petra raised her voice.

————————

At the small shadow that flitted past the corner of her vision, Felt grimaced grandly. Since she was old enough to remember, she had shared her bed in the slums with those repellent things, with their physiologically repulsive form, color, and sheen, yet she couldn't feel any sense of comradeship or affection towards them. Even though Felt had once slept while hugging a large rat to keep warm, she was resistant to the idea of even becoming friends with a single Zodda bug. Truly, it was an existence that could be deemed the natural enemy of humanity.

"Really, Zodda bugs are everywhere..."

With their extraordinary vitality, Zodda bugs established their habitat wherever. They were often seen in unsanitary places, but that wasn't an absolute condition either. In fact, the moment Felt caught sight of a Zodda bug at the corner of her vision was inside a fairly well-managed and maintained building—specifically, a mansion in the noble district of the royal capital, Lugunica. Even now, with its owner gone, the place remained luxurious and extravagant, filled with paintings and ornaments whose value Felt couldn't comprehend.

"Hey, your threads can reach a long way, right? Can't you just get rid of the Zodda real quick?"

"Oh, you see, Lady Felt. The steel thread technique I use is an ultra-rare skill that hasn't had another user emerge for hundreds of years, you know? Plus, it involves a special ring for steel thread made by the 'Curse Toolmaker' Groovy Gumlet, which finally allows such a skilled ninja maid like Yae-chan to shine. And then you dare to ask me to deal with Zodda bugs?"

"I don't get to hear half as much of your long-windedness. So, what is it in the end?"

"I don't want to soil my beloved thread with something dirty, so no way."

Saying that, Yae pulled her ring-wearing hands behind her back and turned her face away, to which Felt replied absentmindedly, "Yeah, yeah, got it." Looking back at the earlier shadow, she realized she had lost sight of it to the right and left. That, too, left her feeling uneasy.

"Just because I can't see them doesn't mean they've vanished from this world... Rather than disappearing, sometimes those things even fly right at people's faces."

"I know, right? When that happens, I'm ready to face death."

"I want to say 'no way,' don't be prepared for it."

In terms of emotions, it feels more like resignation or despair rather than determination.

Nonetheless, as she perceives a shadow of the Zodda bug, sparking an unexpected shared understanding with Yae, Felt once again surveys the interior of the mansion—the Barielle estate in the royal capital. Some of the Lugunica nobility, who live outside the capital, own secondary residences in the noble district of the capital. The Astrea residence, where Felt was first abducted and confined by Reinhard, was one such place, and this mansion—the one Priscilla Barielle had built—was constructed for the same purpose.

"Knowing that princess, she probably had it maintained even when she wasn’t living here, but having Zodda bugs crawling around is unacceptable. Or maybe when the mistress died, the maids immediately lost their motivation."

"Oops, even if it’s to provoke someone, it's better not to say such things in front of Mr. Al, okay? It makes you sound like a really nasty person, and I don’t feel good hearing anyone badmouth the mistress either."

"Oh? You're saying not to anger that helmeted guy?"

"No, no, Mr. Al probably won't get angry, I’m sure. But I think he’d be hurt. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s something I’d rather avoid."

Lowering her tone slightly at the end of the exchange, Yae tilts her head a bit. Instantly, Felt feels a slight tension around her neck and senses the presence of an invisible thread with her life. The steel thread, which she hesitated to use on the Zodda bugs, is again winding around Felt’s neck.

"Even if you harm me, wouldn’t the helmeted guy be upset?"

"Perhaps. But letting Lady Felt say whatever she wants might also be a bit of a problem for an all-purpose helpful maid tasked with overcoming all obstacles for her master, don't you think?"

"It feels weird to hear you call someone your master. The relationship between you and the helmeted guy isn’t exactly that of master and servant. Still, I get that it's lame to arrogantly chatter from a place of safety."

Saying so, Felt raises both hands to indicate to Yae that she has no intention of resisting. After watching this for a moment, Yae shrugs and retracts the steel thread. Nonetheless, if Felt were to make any suspicious move, she would undoubtedly unhesitatingly unleash the thread, cutting off a finger or even a hand or foot to make her point if necessary. The speed and precision of this threat were apparent enough that provoking her was worth the risk.

"I knew it, but this opponent is out of my league..."

Currently, the only ones stationed at this Barielle villa are Felt and Yae. If Felt could slip past Yae's watchful eye, or possibly defeat Yae single-handedly, she could escape the state of being a captive princess meant to restrain the movements of Felt's camp.

"A strong competitive spirit, truly worthy of a royal selection candidate, makes one admire their noble spirit and dedication, but please don't entertain reckless ideas, okay? There are people like ruffians or Lord Heinkel for whom it wouldn't pain my conscience to tie them up with string or slice them down, but I don't like doing that to charming young ladies."

"Is that so? Then remember this, too. I also don't like being told words like 'cute', 'lovely', or 'very fitting'. I remember each time it's said."

"Oh, scary. By the way, what do you plan on doing after counting?"

"When the time comes to get back at them, I'll kick their butts for every time."

Incidentally, Yae's butt has already been marked for three kicks by Felt. She also has scores counted for Helmet Guy—Aldebaran, the 'Divine Dragon' and Heinkel. Felt makes sure to settle the scores, whether it's a favor or a grudge.

"It's not often you get to kick the butt of a dragon, let alone a 'Divine Dragon'. Thinking about it like that, it's kind of amusing even being held hostage, isn't it?"

"You're tough, really too mentally strong for Yae to handle. Even if that weren't the case, it's scary getting hit on, so I really don't want to let you and Lord Vol get too close."

"Even so, having Reinhard's father take care of the 'Divine Dragon', in my opinion, is quite the poor taste."

"Lord Heinkel is so eager for the 'Dragon's Blood' his hands would pop out of his throat. I hope he hasn't rashly and accidentally attacked Lord Vol."

Yae placed a finger on her lips, smiling mischievously, but there was nothing cute about what she said.

In reality, from Yae's perspective, even if her current imagination were actualized—that is, if the reckless Heinkel were killed by the "Divine Dragon"—it wouldn't particularly be a problem. This attitude towards Heinkel, who is supposedly an ally, shows a rather spiteful distribution.

Of course, since the "Divine Dragon" is too conspicuous to be brought near the royal capital, and she doesn't want it paired with Felt, who unsettles the heart, it's inevitable that the grouping would be biased.

"Lady Felt is like a bewitching beauty, not of a kingdom but of a dragon."

"If you keep talking like that, the number of times I kick your butt is going to increase. Seriously, that old man’s looking for the 'Dragon's Blood,' but can we get it from that spacey 'Divine Dragon'?"

"I wonder? Ah, but even if not, in that case, Royal Lord Al intends to keep his promise by retrieving the old 'Dragon's Blood' that is said to be stored somewhere in the castle. So, Lady Heinkel's sleeping lady wife should awaken. But for Lady Felt, you can't agree with that method, right?"

"Yeah, honestly, I don't like that method."

She had told Heinkel directly, who had been making excuses about it.

Felt doesn't like that method. However, she thinks it's wrong for an outsider to outright deny the decisions made by those involved, after thinking, acting, and deciding on their course of action.

That's why Felt wishes to reach the goal of awakening Reinhard's mother by following a different path than Heinkel's.

"—? What's up?"

Suddenly, as Felt sat lounging on the sofa in the reception room, she noticed Yae staring at her intently and frowned.

In response to Felt's reaction, Yae shook her head and said, "Oh, no, no—"

"I was just surprised. That Lady Felt would think of awakening Lord Heinkel's wife... in other words, the mother of the 'Sword Saint.'"

"…That jerk sits next to me when we’re all eating together."

"—?"

When Felt started talking about seemingly unrelated matters, Yae looked perplexed. Ignoring Yae's expression, Felt continued speaking.

In Felt's camp, during meals, Flam and Grassis would come by to call everyone, and aside from Felt, who usually sat at the head of the table, it was customary for the rest to fill the seats on a first-come, first-served basis. Beside Felt, who sat at the head, Reinhard was usually seated.

And—

"While eating, his face is the closest thing in my line of sight. It’s nicer to have that face a bit more pleasant; it makes the food taste better, doesn’t it?"

"…I retract my statement about the beautiful girl. Felt-sama is quite the handsome one~"

"I didn’t get what you just said, but I'll make sure to kick your butt more often."

"Why is that~!"

Felt turned away from the pouting Yae, refusing to answer any further. Being accustomed to a hostage situation was nothing but an unflattering tale, yet the key to maintaining mental composure in such a state is not to overly share about everything.

As she teased the fish she had caught to a decent extent—

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry if I upset you. Anyway, here you go."

With these words, Yae gently held out a silver tray, on which was a sandwich containing grilled fillings, and Felt’s stomach growled. Yae chuckled at the sound.

"Is there a Zodda bug here too?"

"Those guys can be anywhere. Even inside my stomach... hey, don’t make me imagine something gross. Hand it over."

Glaring at Yae's teasing tone, Felt snatched the silver tray from her hand. Taking a bite of the sandwich that exuded a subtle, warm aroma, the taste was just right—not too strong, not too weak. It suited Felt's taste, and making eye contact, Yae gave a thumbs-up with a smile.

"How is it, the sandwich? It’s Yae-chan's only specialty dish~"

"It’s good… but if it’s the only thing, that changes the story a bit. Aren’t you a maid? Or is being a maid a lie, and you’re really some kind of assassin?"

"Well, assassination is one of the main jobs of a shinobi, but it's true that I'm really a maid. I'm just better at tidying up than at cooking a bit. Oh, by the way, it was a lie that my specialty is only grilled sandwiches. I'm also good at stuffed layered dishes."

"In the end, it's just stuffing ingredients into bread, isn't it?"

By the way, Felt's impression of the stuffed layered dishes was that they had more vegetables in them. In reality, she didn't quite understand the subtle differences between grilled sandwiches and stuffed layered dishes. Nonetheless, she was relieved that even the hostages they had captured were properly fed. This way, they wouldn't have to constantly doubt Aldebaran's tales as lies. However, that makes Aldebaran's actions, who is not present here, an issue.

Aldebaran, who was acting separately from Felt and the others, headed towards—

"—Is that helmet guy seriously planning to set the Sin Archbishop free?"

If we talk about trusting in the context, believing this statement would mean believing that he went to free the Sin Archbishop of 'Gluttony' imprisoned in the capital's prison tower. Currently, the Kingdom of Lugunica is holding two Sin Archbishops, 'Wrath' and 'Gluttony.' Felt had also faced a Sin Archbishop directly in Priestella and was deeply impressed by their threat and inhumanity. She wondered if there really were people like them who were beyond help.

"In Priestella, I met the brother or younger brother of 'Gluttony'... the one who's captured, and his sister. And I've dealt with Reinhard regarding the transfer of 'Wrath.' From my perspective, what that helmet guy is trying to do is insane."

"Indeed it is~. No great deed can be accomplished without a bit of madness. Everything that Mr. Al has done so far has been extraordinary, hasn't it?"

"It's not just a matter of numbers; it's reaching a level of how many line-crossings we're talking about. Moreover, I understand using the 'Witch' to stall Reinhard's movements, but the Sin Archbishop?"

"Of course, it's necessary for Mr. Al's objective~."

"You don't know the specifics of that either, do you?"

With her hands clasped behind her back, Yae smiled and did not respond to Felt's words. However, the answer was as expected. Although Yae's true intention for following Aldebaran was unknown, there was a powerful determination and obsession from her indicating that she had no intention of parting ways with Aldebaran, no matter the shocking circumstances. Therefore, Felt's role was not to wait for an answer but to investigate further.

"...The bastard 'Gluttony' rudely devours people's 'Names' and 'Memories'."

Like Crush, whose 'Memories' were devoured, or like Julius, who was said to be Anastasia's knight, whose 'Name' was devoured. And, like the girl in the Emilia camp, who Subaru was said to be searching for a way to awaken. Perhaps, the last girl might not be unrelated to the 'Sleeping Beauty' Felt and the others knew. In any case—

"—There's something I'd like to make him eat. Besides that, there's no way to draw out that 'Gluttony' bastard."

Despite being imprisoned and forced into hardship, Felt refused to let her spirit be broken. It was, undoubtedly, the life philosophy of 'living strong,' taught to Felt by that reliable Rom-ji, who cornered Aldebaran just as much as Reinhard in this world.

“Ahg.”

Vigorously filling her belly with a grilled sandwich, Felt applied herself to realizing her life philosophy. As long as she didn't stop thinking, as long as she didn't halt her steps, there would be a chance to reach out. Preparing for that moment, she licked off the grilled sandwich sauce from the corner of her mouth with her tongue. Beside her—

“…Ah, really a disgusting bug. It’s only been a few days since the manager was given a break, it’s so annoying.”

Yae, who seemed to have found humanity's enemy, either the same one Felt saw earlier or a different one, grimaced with displeasure and muttered.

△▼△▼△▼△

The place was cramped, dark, and suffocating.

It was an environment even harsher than solitary confinement, without any intention to keep what was trapped inside alive. Yet, it would be inaccurate to simply label the space and the presence isolated in it with words like cruelty or heartlessness.

In any case, the one imprisoned there was a notorious blasphemer who had committed numerous evils around the world. The method of imprisonment was also distinct from the usual; it was a 'black coffin' that required neither breathing nor a heartbeat, severing the existence from the world and sealing it away. Therefore, there was no need to prepare to respect life in that space.

That's precisely why that place was exceedingly suitable for cursing life at each other.

"--Sorry about that. It seems I've been bottling up quite a bit of frustration. I couldn't hold back."

The sound of shoes echoed on the cold, hard floor as he leaned against the wall of the cramped room. The back of his helmet hit the wall, and the sound of metal striking stone sharply disturbed the frigid air of the stone chamber. At the feet of the man trying to compose his slightly disordered breathing—Aldebaran—lay a figure collapsed face down, barely breathing.

This was indeed the blasphemer granted to the kingdom's dungeon-like stone chamber. A pitiful, defeated wretch who had just now been completely overpowered by Aldebaran and ended up licking the floor—none other than Roy Alphard, the Sin Archbishop of the Witch Cult bearing the title of 'Gluttony'.

"——"

He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. Aldebaran, having forcibly stabilized his breathing and heart rate, surveyed the room that had turned quite turbulent in the span of about a minute of real time, and shrugged his shoulders. The walls were cracked, the floor was shattered, and the poorly maintained, cramped room had been ravaged to the point where it was apt to describe it as having no place to stand. It was only about as big as a proper café's toilet, but somehow, a grand confrontation had unfolded here. Although it was not a confrontation he engaged in willingly.

"...Right after I told you I wouldn't take your life if you came quietly. Even if you were to rebel, normally you'd wait a bit more for a chance, wouldn't you?"

"--Haha, that's a funny thing to say, Mr. Helmet," Roy chuckled stickily from his spread-eagled position on the ground. Still face down, he directed a glinting gaze at Aldebaran by the wall and, while lewdly licking his long tongue,

"Does that mean you want us, who are always starving and starving and starving and can't help it, to learn to wait? That's nothing short of abuse, isn't it?"

"Unfortunately, I have no obligation to raise a brat like you. In the Showa era, there was talk of neighbors participating in discipline, but this is Lugunica, and the era isn't Showa. Well, I've beaten you up this much. I can't deny it could be called abuse."

Roy chuckled cheerfully as Aldebaran fiddled with the fittings on his helmet, producing a clattering sound. Having been thoroughly disciplined to the point of having all his limbs broken yet retaining such an attitude, he was indeed an unsettling child. At least, even in the corporal punishment-tolerant Showa era, discipline to this extent would not have been permissible. That said, Roy Alphard was a Sin Archbishop before being an unsettling child, so he hoped this level of risk management would be considered acceptable.

"Well, I didn't think things would proceed smoothly anyway."

Muttering this, Aldebaran quietly concluded a count of 6,022 in his head. The now self-explanatory number was the number of attempts Aldebaran needed to tame the rebellious Roy Alphard. If he counted the number of broken bones and teeth, the number would easily multiply several times. It took that much effort to discipline such a brat.

"I never thought I'd end up having to undergo similar trial and error as with Reinhard..."

Roy Alphard, who eagerly bore the name of 'Binge,' had the power of 'Gluttony,' which could reproduce the skills and abilities of those he consumed—'Devourer' power—thus, within himself, Roy practically stored countless warriors, and his way of instantly abandoning ineffective tactics and immediately employing new strategies in battle was reminiscent of Reinhard, who could sprout blessings according to the circumstances and respond quickly. Fortunately, Aldebaran already had the experience value of battling Reinhard over 130,000 times, so he achieved the feat of dealing with a similar improbable opponent in the quadruple digits.

"However, they say you got caught right after fighting at the tower. If no proper treatment was done afterward, I'd say you did pretty well, wouldn't you?"

"Huh? Experiencing everything being completely countered one after another like that was the first time for us too, but are you seriously here to console us, Mister? If so, the best way to console us is..."

"Overeating and drinking heavily will affect you the next day. Just hearing about it makes the stomachs of middle-aged guys, who are struggling more and more with digesting greasy foods, shrink."

"That's cold."

Roy laughed with a mouth full of fangs and looked at Aldebaran with goggling eyes. The color of his gaze was a full course that sent chills up Aldebaran's spine, with curiosity, appetite, sadism, and more appetite. The pain of having his limbs broken and a hunger that surpassed even that is likely what made him that way, but it is a thoroughly distorted way of being. He does not want to feel any sympathy for him either. Like the 'Witches', the Sin Archbishop chosen by the Witch Factor is also a despicable outcast who was born deviating from the normal track.

"Good grief... do you want me to explain the situation?"

"Oh, you will? What, do you feel sorry for the child after breaking their limbs? But yeah, right? No decent adult could break the limbs of such a young child without batting an eye. Well, there is some room for debate on whether an uncle with such a look, wearing a helmet on his head, is a decent adult."

"You sure talk a lot... This place is far from the Pleiades Watchtower where you got caught and is in the Kingdom of Lugunica. Your counterpart—"

"—Ah, he's dead, right?"

"——"

"We too have figured out as much. Family bonds are thicker and stronger than you think, mister... Sorry, sorry, that's a lie. I just thought so because I don't feel Ley's Witch Factor. Also,"

"Also?"

"Even from the inside, you can get a little sense of the outside. Although they're sealed up so tightly, everyone gets scared and it's pathetic, isn't it?"

With a sly licking sound, Roy casually talked about the death of his counterpart. That attitude made Aldebaran involuntarily blanch. It was not only the calm acceptance of the death of his counterpart, Ley Batenkaitos, his sibling, but also the testimony that despite having been sealed by something akin to the 'Black Coffin'—Ol Shamak—he could still sense the outside world that surprised Aldebaran. As Aldebaran was taken aback, Roy flipped over and lay on his back, seeing the world upside down.

"Ah, it was suffocating. This is somewhat better... Right? In our 'memory,' if I'm not mistaken, you were one of the people involved in the royal selection, correct? And now, to think you'd release us, the Sin Archbishops, such a thing would give the esteemed princess a bad reputation—"

"You've absorbed all kinds of ways of fighting, but not only ways of thinking, right? If you don't want to be deemed incompetent just for having tools and doing nothing with them, think before you ask."

"Wow, touched a nerve. Stirred up a hornet's nest, perhaps? Fine, all right, sure, that's okay, it's fine, whatever! I won't ask any more. I was just wondering if the beloved princess had died, and you've gone on a reckless spree—Gah!"

"I see. That would be helpful. I appreciate the concern, thank you."

Roy's expression, filled with an evil grin, distorted significantly as his broken shoulder was stomped on aggressively. Aldebaran ground the broken bone with his heel before lowering his foot.

His opponent was a Sin Archbishop. As was obvious, if the aim was to proceed according to plan, he was the worst possible opponent. Even though the Sin Archbishop lunged at him the moment he was unsealed as expected, it wasn't a prediction he was naturally happy to see come true.
If a Sin Archbishop wasn't required for the plan, he would happily leave them locked in a coffin and throw it over a great waterfall.
However—

"To go so far as needing us. That's tough, old man."

"You're a mouthy one. I'd like to ask your parents how to make you talk less."

"Birth parents? Foster parents? If it's the former, they died taking my sister along when they gave birth to us. If it's the latter, I'm sure they'd be a bad match for you, old man."

"Either way, it sounds like they're no good. —It can't be helped."

By some miracle, a conversation was taking place, but nothing was gained from his replies. The Sin Archbishop's characteristic loquacity was just like that of 'Gluttony,' not betraying their title.
All it does is build up feelings of discomfort and revulsion, worsening not only the atmosphere but the general will to live.

"——"

Lying on his back like a fish on a chopping board, Roy was approached by Aldebaran, who crouched beside him. Aldebaran looked down at him and exchanged glances through the helmet. Despite the pain from his broken bones being stepped on, upside-down Roy's eyes darted about with curiosity.

"What, what? Mister, what are you going to do next? Torture to train a disobedient child? But, you know, we're used to that kind of pain."

"Don't worry. Like you, I also have doubts about getting someone to obey by causing pain. If feelings surpass the pain, then that won't subdue the other person. So,"

"So?"

"The thing that binds you to me is neither pain nor emotion. It’s a promise."

Saying that, Aldebaran inserted his thumb under the chin of the helmet and bit it. Blood droplets surfaced with sharp pain, and he pointed his bloodied finger toward Roy. Then, pressing the blood-stained finger onto the bare skin of the prostrated blasphemer,

"Don’t resist unnecessarily. I’ve practiced so I can do this even with my eyes closed... but this is the first time I’m testing its actual effect."

"Drawing on a child's bare skin with blood, such a distasteful act would shock even us Sin Archbishops. What do you want us to do by going this far into perversity? Destroy a nation or something?"

"I don't intend for that, and if I wanted, it could be done alone. I'm going out of my way to free an annoying brat like you for something only you can do."

"Something only we can do, huh?"

As Roy, caressed by the bloodied finger and savoring the ticklishness, grinned, showing his fangs, his lewd expression, tone, and the atmosphere he exuded prompted Aldebaran to verbalize the unspoken parts. Though feeling it vexing as if being led by the opponent's plan, he answered. The reason Aldebaran released Roy Alphard was—

"—There’s someone I want you to eat with your authority. I won't take no for an answer."

"Oh? Well, that makes sense. You’re setting us free. It can't be anything else, right?"

While lying down, Roy tilted his head and twisted his lips at Aldebaran's demand.

Aldebaran couldn't tell whether that smile meant agreement or disagreement. Regardless of which it was, Roy's intent didn't matter.

He carved a method into Roy Alphard's body and soul to make him submit.

"It's a seal of the vow, and to an obsessive degree, at that. Did you figure this out on your own, or is it something you got from a crazy sorcerer?"

"I got it secondhand. She was undoubtedly crazy, but she wasn't a sorcerer. She was a magician. Without a doubt, the greatest magician of all time in this world, regardless of her personality."

"What are the terms of the vow?"

"If you consume someone without my permission, you'll burn and die, soul and all."

Saying it simply, Aldebaran hoisted Roy onto his shoulder without looking at his face.

Despite having devoured everything to his heart's content, earning the moniker "Glutton," his body was light. Given that Aldebaran had snuck into Roy's sealed prison tower, it was certainly a relief that he was light.

He had knocked out the sentries on his way in, but it was still better to be cautious on the way back.

"After this, we'll meet up with Yae and the young lady Felt—"

For handling matters in the royal capital, Yae was ordered to monitor Felt and wait in the Barielle villa. That mansion was originally constructed by Leip Barielle, but was greatly altered to its current state due to Priscilla's interference.

It was a mansion where traces of Priscilla's favored designs lingered everywhere. However, despite needing a base, it wasn't a place Aldebaran was keen to stay long.

Therefore, he wanted to promptly pick up Yae and the others and join the rest of the "Aldebaran's" outside the royal capital.

"By the way, as I said earlier—"

Just as Aldebaran was contemplating this to himself, Roy, who was being carried, suddenly spoke. When Aldebaran glanced sideways, Roy, whose limbs were dangling, was staring at the floor.

Following his gaze, Aldebaran frowned in confusion.

There—

"Before being presented to the old man, even while being solidified by that black thing, albeit dimly, we could sense the outside. But it seems like this place is completely cut off from the outside. In that state, visiting is out of the question, not even a mouse or a single bug could get in. And yet—"

"—Huh?"

"A Zodda bug being there all of a sudden was quite a rare occurrence, wasn’t it."

Roy's sticky words matched the small insect reflected in Aldebaran's sight. Crawling on the cold floor with its creepy and repulsive form, it was the Zodda bug, an insect everyone in this world loathes. It's a bug equivalent to a cockroach, so there's nothing strange about it being in the prison tower. But Aldebaran couldn't see it that way.

"—Damn, I messed up!"

Overwhelmed by the anxiety swelling inside him, Aldebaran forgot the need to consider Roy, who had broken limbs, and hurriedly dashed out of the cell, out of the prison tower. He had to escape as soon as possible, for Aldebaran's infiltration had already been completely exposed—

"—That's as far as you go."

The moment he stepped outside the prison tower, that voice struck Aldebaran's eardrums. Simultaneously, he felt a chilling drop in the temperature on his skin, and he could hear the creaking sound of his helmet from the temperature difference with the inside of the tower. All around, white powdery snow fluttered, and the unexpected cold wave shook Aldebaran’s spirit more than any farmer worried about damage to crops.

A familiar, silver-bell-like voice. Crossing the vast garden surrounding the prison tower, pressing down the thin layer of snow, she approached gracefully, making her long silver hair shimmer against the snowy landscape. Her beautiful purplish indigo eyes usually held a gentle and soft light—yet not now. Those purplish indigo eyes were unmistakably blazing with flames. It was undoubtedly her very anger itself—

"—Return Subaru and Beatrice."

The quiet, dignified declaration, an aura reserved for a certain kind of sovereign. For a moment, she seemed so, the one standing there, beautiful, graceful, and noble.

"——"

Aldebaran stood there, exhaling white breath. Facing him, standing on the snow, was the "Witch of Frost"—Emilia, who raised her well-shaped eyebrows sharply and declared, "I'm really, really angry right now, so even if my opponent is Al, I can't hold back."