The pair stood frozen, watching in grim disbelief as the monster wrapped in a little girl's flesh made its declaration—loud, confident, and terrifyingly casual.
Otto's brows knitted together. His fists clenched tighter and tighter until his knuckles went white.
"...A Sin Archbishop…? Just how damn unlucky can we get—running into one in a city this big… oh Volcanica, this—"
Before Otto could finish, a massive hand swept past Otto to signal him to stay back.
Rom growled low, and in the same motion swung a great weapon over his shoulder. This wasn't the crude wooden club he once carried like against the Bowel Hunter. This one gleamed—steel, heavy, unbreakable—an executioner's tool. In Rom's hands, it looked less like a weapon and more like an extension of his body.
"Don't you worry 'bout this." Rom rumbled. His voice carried a weight Otto rarely heard.
"You stay back and watch. 'Bout time I showed I've still got a place—by Gojo, by Felt, Reinhard too. Maybe you too, dependin' on how all of this goes."
Otto blinked, startled, but he kept his silence. Rom had never spoken like that before.
The old man exhaled slowly and stepped forward. His boots scraped against stone and blood as he closed the distance to the blonde Archbishop. He pressed the head of the steel club against the ground, sparks flicking where it met the cobblestones.
"...I'd rather not bash in the skull of a little brat." Rom said flatly, glaring down at the girl.
"But you bein' apart of the Witch's Cult, top brass to… I gotta wonder. Is that really 'yer skin? Or just a mask hidin' what you really are?"
Louis tilted her head, that awful, too-wide smile never fading.
"Mmm… oh, this? Ohhh yes, this is definitely my flesh, yep~. But we can also become anyone we've feasted upon. Faces, bodies, even their powers~ tsu~!"
Rom's jaw clenched. His voice was a growl.
"So in the end… you're just a monster."
Louis only shrugged and swayed, the golden river of her hair dragging lazily across blood and limbs as she skipped closer. She hopped over the shredded remains with a child's playfulness, hands folded behind her back, smile plastered in place.
"We aren't monsters. To you? Maybe. But us? Nooo~ no no no, nope. We only desired one thing and it's simple, see—memories. To become whole, to become perfect. That was our goal. At least… before, that was the case."
Her tone shifted—playful lilt hardening, a strange bitterness bleeding through. Her bare foot kicked a severed arm aside. Her smile cracked, faltered.
"Until they ruined it. Mmhm. Totally ruined it. Both big brothers—dead. And with them, our dream of wholeness. Dead too, see."
Her eyes sharpened. Her voice dropped.
"So now, I'll settle for the next best thing. Theirmemories. Every last one."
She stopped. They stood less than a meter apart now. The giant of a man towered over her, yet Rom couldn't shake the crawling sensation under his skin. Despite his size, he felt like the smaller one in that space.
Her wide eyes fixed on him.
"—Subaru~! And White-haired big brother too~!!"
"—!"
Rom's eyes flicked. Only for an instant. He tried to hide it—but Louis was sharp. Predatory. She caught it, and her grin bloomed back, sharper, hungrier.
"Ahh~ tsu~ yes, yes, yes! That's perfect, isn't it? If I kill the two of you, they'll have to come. Mmhm. They'll have no choice but to show themselves."
Rom snarled, planting his feet.
"...Tch. Yeah? Gonna have to refuse!"
With a roar, Rom raised his steel club. His grip tightened—stone cracked beneath his boots—and he swung it down with the kind of force that could shatter a house in half.
——————————————
A violent gale exploded outward the instant the black dragon unfurled its colossal wings, blotting out the sky. The plaza shook beneath the gust, dust whipping around like a storm, and yet the beast laughed—high-pitched, girlish, utterly wrong.
"Ahhh~ you revolting, ugly little meat scraps! Staring at me like I'm some prize to ravish—awful, awful! No one will want to associate with you if you look at every woman you see with lust!"
"Rhh…"
Subaru squinted into the wind, raising an arm to shield his face. His scowl hardened as the gale subsided.
"…That's one hell of a dragon. Not exactly how I pictured my first meeting with one. I thought it'd be… grander, y'know? More awe-inspiring. Guess I pulled the short straw compared to Gojo-sensei."
The dragon's expression was grotesque, wrong on a primal level—its toothy grin stretched too far, its eyes glittering with madness. It looked less like a beast of legend and more like evil dragged straight from the pits of hell.
Julius, blade in hand, spoke calmly, though his gaze never left the monster overhead.
"Dragons are long-lived creatures, often wise, and capable of human speech. The Divine Dragon themself speaks to us, after all. But to be this… emotive…" He narrowed his eyes. "This is something else entirely."
On the ground, the two cultists—giant and woman—remained still, untouched, unreadable. The giant's remained tall, confident, and the woman's composure never faltered. It also seemed as if neither had revealed their full power. That, in itself, seemed problematic.
Subaru clicked his tongue.
"So… dragons. Anyone here actually fought one?"
"…Yes."
Wilhelm's answer came without hesitation.
Subaru blinked, almost disbelieving.
"…Seriously?"
"Forty years ago, I was sent to subjugate a dragon known as Valgren, near Lugunica's southern border. Its presence alone nearly triggered war with Vollachia. It had three heads." Wilhelm's eyes narrowed at Capella. "…This one is smaller in comparison. Less fearsome in appearance too. But…" He gripped his blade tighter. "Underestimating a dragon is suicide."
"So… I should be inclined to say the odds of beating it are higher, but I feel like that would be jinxing it."
Subaru muttered.
Garfiel suddenly stepped forward, fists clenched, his teeth grinding audibly.
"Enough yappin' already—let's just tear the damn thing to shreds!"
Above, the black dragon tilted its head. Then it grinned—a disturbingly human expression stretched across inhuman jaws.
"Ahh~ hahaha! What's this? A little doggy trying to bark? No, no, no~ you're nothing but a kitten! Meow~ meow~ Just like your tiny friend. Ohhh, how is she? Dead yet?! GYAHAHAHAA!!"
Garfiel's pupils shrank to slits. His molars ground against one another so hard they almost shattered.
"You—!!"
But before he could charge the beast, Subaru's arm shot out and blocked the yellow-haired boys path.
"—Cap'n?"
Garfiel asked, confused.
Subaru stepped forward, gaze fixed firmly on the monster. His voice was low but unwavering.
"So. Sin Archbishop. Capella, right?"
The dragon cackled, tail lashing against the tower's roof.
"Ahhh~ I know you! Yes, yes, I do know you! The filthy little meat scrap who killed Gluttony! What's wrong? Want me to come down there, give you a kiss as a reward~? You want this body, don't you? Don't you?! of COURSE you do!!"
Subaru stayed silent, jaw tight. That silence irked the beast, who hissed.
"Feh! Where's the one who killed Roy? That crawling little white maggot? Ohhh, it would've been so fun to make him fly and pull his wings off, buzz~ buzz~ buzz—BAHAHAHA!"
Subaru's glare only deepened, although he didn't exactly know what the cultist was talking about, he didn't doubt that it was disturbing.
"…Sorry. But even if he was here, I don't think you could touch Gojo-sensei."
The dragon's grin faltered for the first time. Then, its voice dropped.
"Haaaah… really—"
"That's enough out of you, monster."
The voice was none other than Julius Juukulius.
He stepped forward, radiance gathering at his blade's tip. His six Lesser Spirits circled overhead, each glowing a different hue, forming a perfect prism of color above the knight's sword.
"Reconsider your actions in the time you have left, Archbishop—!"
He thrust his blade skyward. The spirits pulsed in unison—light roared upward like a divine lance. Capella's eyes widened, her giant body jerking instinctively back as the rainbow brilliance surged toward her.
"Now burn away in a pillar of light—until nothing remains!" Julius roared.
"—You!?"
The blast struck. A pillar of rainbow light tore through the plaza and slammed into the dragon. Stone ruptured, air screamed, and the explosion of color and smoke consumed the tower's peak in an earth-shaking roar.
The first to move after Julius's light struck was Wilhelm. His blade carved a wide arc through the air as he surged forward—not toward the dragon above, but straight for the cultists before him. His target: the swordswoman.
She charged as well, steel flashing, and the two collided in a blur of sparks and steel.
This time, Wilhelm's ferocity outstripped hers. His strikes came like crashing waves, cutting down her momentum before it could take form. She reeled onto the defensive, desperately parrying and weaving around his relentless blows.
"Whumph—!!"
His heavy step carried into a sudden flurry of thrusts—once, twice, three times—each lunge sharp enough to pierce armor and bone alike.
But her blade was uncanny. Every strike he unleashed was met with a flawless deflection, as though she had read them before he moved. Her counter came like lightning, a thrust straight for Wilhelm's throat—
—and in the same instant, it pulled back and snapped sideways, intercepting Wilhelm's own blade at her flank.
That should've been impossible. His strike should have ended her then and there. Yet her body moved like a puppet of war, as though combat itself was stitched into her flesh.
——————————————
Across from them, Garfiel squared against the giant. His gut screamed the truth: blocking those blades head-on would shatter his bones. So he adapted. With his shields angled, he caught the strike and let it slide along the steel of his shields, diverting the momentum rather than stopping it outright.
The giant was no mindless berserker either, annoyingly for him. Every savage swing carried discipline, precision. A single mistake would mean death.
One colossal hand shot forward, catching Garfiel's fist mid-swing. Its grip was iron, crushing, unshakable.
And still, half of its arms remained folded, unmoving. Reserves, simply waiting.
A cleaver shot up, not at Garfiel, but across its own flank—
One Blow, One Hundred Felled—
"Ha-!"
Crusch Karsten's let out a war cry as her blade sliced a crescent gale through the air, the wind blast dissipating the moment the giant intercepted it with one of it's weapons. But to its surprise, no follow-up came as she reared her blade and swung against air a second time. A feint. Crusch Karsten was clearly not a fighter to be underestimated despite the powerhouses in the group.
From above the cultist, a noticeable shadow casted by the sun became larger and larger.
"—Hrm!"
Subaru dropped like a missile, his heel driving down with force enough to crater stone. The cultist's guard snapped open—two arms whipping free from its side to intercept, locking his strike mid-fall.
"Now, Ricardo—!!"
Subaru roared.
The immense pressure of Subaru's strike, as well as catching the giant off guard drove him down to one knee. Two arms trapped by Garfiel. Two more holding Subaru.
It was pinned. Wide open.
Ricardo's cleaver descended as he lunged, merciless as an executioner's axe toward the cultists neck.
For a heartbeat, victory was certain.
Blood sprayed and something fell.
Juts not the head as they'd hoped for.
The cultist twisted at the final moment, offering an arm in place of its neck, a cold, calculated decision. The limb spun through the air, hitting the ground with a sickening smack. And then, without a sound, the giant ripped free, disengaging before another killing blow could follow.
"Damn it—so close...." Subaru hissed, shadows flickering around his hands. His eyes narrowed, voice low and grim.
"Maybe if I'd used the miasma… tch."
"Don't worry, bro, we'll get 'em next time!"
Ricardo said, sharp-toothed grin flashing as he hooked his machete over his shoulder.
Garfiel stepped forward, grinning and pressing his fist into his own palm.
"Yeah. This'll be nothin'!"
But Subaru's instincts tugged him elsewhere. His gaze flicked to the side and up, where smoke from Julius's strike against Capella lingered—an attack that should have no doubt obliterated the beast.
Then he saw it: a streak of black flame, cutting through the grey smoke like a river of shadow. It rolled toward them, and the sheer presence of it made hearts seize—not from heat, but from pure, bone-deep terror.
"—!!"
Ricardo and Garfiel's eyes widened as Subaru's mind raced. The trio below were at risk, but Crusch… was she fast enough to avoid it? Could he even reach her in time to carry her out of the blasts radius?
No. There was only one choice. He raised his palm.
"Damn it—!"
From his hand, a surge of cursed energy ignited like fire, striking the black inferno head-on and splitting the fiery beam down it's center before it could engulf them all.
"Hrkk—!!"
A wave of overwhelming pressure slammed into him, threatening to throw him off balance, to crush everyone nearby. But Subaru gritted his teeth, forcing his legs to hold on. The cursed energy wave shifted purple, growing stronger, fighting back against the jet-black fire.
"—I can return by—!!"
Once, he roared the taboo, and the inferno was overwhelmed completely in a few passing seconds. The purple energy lanced skyward uncontrollably, tearing through the rooftop's spherical dome and shredding through the lingering smoke where the dragon resided. A high-pitched, agonized shriek rang across the city as every battle froze.
"…Holy crap…" Ricardo muttered, slapping Subaru's back.
"Good on you, bro. Seriously—y'just saved our asses."
Garfiel's mouth hung open. He didn't know whether to envy Subaru or be grateful. The black-haired man had grown—grown beyond what Garfiel could fight against, unlike several months ago at least, the difference was more noticeable now.
Then the smoke cleared, revealing the Sin Archbishop. Her body—though grotesquely burned and torn all over its face and upper body—was regenerating at an absurd rate. Muscle and flesh stitched themselves back together. Blood vaporized instantly in waves of heat, steam rising from her restored face.
"…Healing? Of course—absurd regeneration. Not even Gojo-sensei could come back from something like that, or if he could it wouldn't be remotely as fast. Maybe the Centaur witchbeasts could but..." Subaru muttered, disbelief in his voice.
The archbishop finally spoke up once more, as good as new.
"Hmmm~ immortality, as people tend to call it~."
"Although really, their words may be stupid, but it does hold some level of truth… regardless, now that we're all done ogling my beautiful innards~"
She unfurled her wings, wide and imposing. For a moment, it seemed she'd strike again—but then she suddenly stepped back, a moment of unnerving silence settling in through the area.
"Aweeee… I wanted to see you disgusting meat scraps die die die!! But, time's up! I have a broadcast to make~. Spending another minute with you all would just make me vomit~ Bye byeee~"
The dragon turned, each step shaking the area, until she vanished from sight.
Subaru clicked his tongue.
"Well… obviously, we've gotta follow her."
Before he could move, Julius stepped forward.
"The likelihood that this is a trap is extremely high. But we cannot allow another broadcast to happen, this is a dilemma to say the least."
Subaru scoffed.
"Yeah, obviously. If she keeps going with this, people are gonna panic even more."
Crusch frowned.
"Perhaps… she intends to execute the hostages."
"Eh… I don't get why she'd do that…" Subaru muttered, before shaking his head.
"But I guess logic and common sense doesn't apply with these Witch Cultists, they are all insane after all."
Ricardo's gaze returned to the cultist pair, the giant and the swordswoman who merely stood in wait.
"Leave these outside guys to us. Julius, Crusch 'n Subaru, you head inside to deal with the Archbishop."
"Understood."
"I leave this to you, Wilhelm—"
Julius nodded and Crusch followed immediately.
Though Subaru turned to Garfiel before he too made his leave.
"Oi, don't lose."
Caught off guard, Garfiel blinked, then grinned fiercely.
"Heh. My amazin' self has no intention of losing a second time. Go, Cap'n."
Subaru smirked before giving chase to the green and purple haired duo.
The clash of metal from Wilhelm and Ricardo faded as they neared city hall. Eventually, Julius summoned a gust of wind magic that surrounded his body, hurtling him off the ground and into the air.
"Alright, Crusch—c'mere!"
Subaru called.
Confused, she blinked, and before she could protest, Subaru scooped her up in a bridal carry. Channeling cursed energy through his legs, he leapt onto a balcony that overlooked the city.
"…Subaru, this isn't exactly appropriate."
"—You're really making this sound indecent for no reason damn it!"
Eventually, he her down safely and turned to Julius.
"Alright… where to now?"
"I imagine there's a road map inside the building that can accurately guide us to the City Hall, if not, we'll have to just guess."
Julius said swiftly.
Subaru took a step forward—and suddenly found himself almost crushed under a massive door kicked from it's hinges at supersonic speed, it would've struck him head-on had he not leapt back to dodge it.
"What the hell!?"
Subaru yelled, his head flicking up in shock.
All heads batted toward the door where the darkness lingered, the sounds of footsteps growing more and more prominent before an unfamiliar figure emerged from and stopped dead in their tracks at the entrance.
"Another one…!"
Crusch muttered.
Another cultist, draped in black—face concealed by the robes. The figure was that of a man—similar in height to Satoru Gojo but of a more defined, muscular build. And just like the other two, this one didn't speak a word either.
Crusch opted to not waste time, and struck first, swinging her blade to release a crescent arc of wind toward the cultist the moment they stepped into the light.
However, with a mere flick of two fingers, the cultist sliced the gale through it's center, leaving it as nothing more than a calm gust of wind that tussled his black robes.
"—What?!"
She was rightful to be stunned, after all—that same attack could leave marks against the body of the great mabeast, the White Whale—to have it stopped with one hand was simply absurd to even consider, let alone see.
Julius followed with a flurry of attacks, yet found that each one was swiftly evaded and countered by the cultists' bare hand, two fingers intercepted the following strike which was followed by a kick against Crusch's stomach that sent her skidding.
Subaru's mind raced. Something was off—not just the strength, but the style. He knew it from somewhere…
It felt.... oddly familiar.
"—You two."
Julius stepped forward, hand resting on his blade.
"Allow me to hold this one off. Time is critical at this time—we cannot waste a moment if hostages are at risk."
"But Julius—"
"Go! Now!"
"Tsck! Fine. Just don't lose you bastard!" Subaru yelled as he turned to Crusch.
"Let's go!"
Crusch nodded, and took chase after him.
"Understood."
—————————————
Elsewhere in the city—
Rui Arneb skipped lightly backward, pristine clothes fluttering as the steel club slammed down where she'd stood. The sheer weight of Rom's swing cracked the ground like glass, sending chunks of stone and a storm of dust into the air. She danced through it with playful little hops, her grin never faltering.
But Rom wasn't about to let her breathe. The old giant shifted his entire body and slammed his shoulder sideways with the momentum of a collapsing wall against her small frame.
The impact should have been catastrophic—against anyone else, it would've crushed ribs to powder. Yet the tiny Archbishop caught the blow packing the weight of his entire body and more with just her palm, stopping him dead in his tracks. Her feet didn't even drag across the cobbles.
"—What?!"
Rom's eyes widened, but Rui only bared her teeth, that too-wide grin stretching from ear to ear.
The club came whistling down again in a brutal arc, and this time she didn't even try to retreat. She slipped inside his swing with the precision of a serpent—moving so fast the hulking weapon cut nothing but air above her.
Her little voice chimed sweetly, almost singing:
"—The Carnivorous Beast. The gift of an inhuman glutton… Beli Hainelga, Gusteko's serial killer~"
"What the hell are you—HURGK!?"
The words were cut short as her fist slammed into his gut.
It wasn't the strike of a child's body. It was a cannonball—an entire cart launched downhill—an inhuman force that made Rom cough up a spray of blood and spit as he was blasted off his feet. He tore a path through the stonework, his massive frame bouncing once before he crashed flat onto the ground.
The strength was absurd. Wrong. Something so small should not have been able to hit with such killing weight.
"Urgh…"
Rom struggled, palm clutching at his abdomen, crimson dripping down his lips. That strike could've ended him outright—would have, if not for the months under Reinhard's merciless training.
Rui tilted her head, blinking as faint steam rose off her fist. She clasped her hands behind her back, skipping forward with the casual gait of a child in a meadow.
"You lived—you lived~ oh, you really lived! Haaah, definitely lived! certainly lived! Gluttonous drinking, tsu~!! maybe, maybe maybe—maybe~!! you'll make a fine appetizer before the main meal shows up!"
Her singsong voice lilted across the ruined street, though, it felt like the jokes of a monster.
Rom wiped the blood from his mouth. He didn't answer her taunts. The old giant just rose back to his full height, setting his jaw and raising his weapon once more.
This time, Rui Arneb shifted her posture. Both arms hung limply at her sides, her small frame hunched forward, legs bent like a sprinter poised at the blocks.
Rom's eye twitched. His instincts screamed.
"—!!"
He staggered one step back, pouring every ounce of strength into his muscles, ready to swing the instant his eyes registered movement.
But she was already gone at that point.
The air buckled with a violent whump, the shockwave slamming into his entire body before his mind caught up.
That singsong child's voice rang out from behind him:
"—The Leaper. A gift of superhuman speed from a slender merchant, a naughty little Witch Cult dropout. Dorkell~"
Rom spun, bellowing as he brought the club around in a wide arc, responding to the sound of that terrifying voice—only to hit nothing.
"Shit—!!"
A flash of gold in the corner of his eye as he looked back and the entire world lurched. Pain. Her tiny fist slammed into his ribs, bones caving in with a sickening crunch before he was hurled backward like a ragdoll across the plaza.
He barely hit the ground before a kick from behind jarred his spine—then a slash across the chest, her bare hand carving through flesh like steel, blood painting the street in a red arc.
Step. Vanish. Step. Vanish. It was like fighting a nightmare that simply refused to stay in one place.
Her fist pulled back, aimed to shatter his skull and finally end this whole thing.
But then, before it could land—
CRASH—!
A stone pillar erupted from the cobblestones, smashing between them. Rui skittered back in a blur, dust spraying across her white dress.
Rom's single eye widened. He snapped his gaze toward the source—
"—You?!"
Otto Suwen, his grey-hair blowing in the wind stood a few paces away.
He gave a small, sheepish smile as he walked forward.
"Well, I wouldn't call myself much of a fighter… but merchants do need a few tricks if they want to stay alive."
Rom coughed, spitting blood, glaring through the pain.
"Could've… helped earlier."
Otto scratched his neck, laughing nervously.
"Ahaha… sorry about that. I was waiting for an opening. Even then, she still dodged it…"
———————————————
The City Hall loomed five stories tall, and from the balcony they'd landed on it was obvious where they needed to go—inside.
With a sharp kick, Subaru shattered a window and vaulted through, Crusch Karsten following with her blade drawn, eyes scanning the wide chamber.
"…Doesn't really make sense." Subaru muttered, glancing around the empty space.
"Where's the door that allows a fifty-foot dragon to squeeze through? Kinda hard to miss something that big."
Crusch's expression was grim.
"It is confusing. But if the dragon isn't truly here, then all the better for us."
"Yeah. If only—"
Subaru cut himself off. His head snapped to the side at the sound of movement.
There it was.
The black dragon.
Wedged stiffly into the chamber, its massive body coiled and contorted unnaturally to fit. Wings folded like broken paper fans, neck twisted toward the door, it stared at them with unblinking malice. It must have been waiting to ambush them, but their sudden entrance had spoiled its plan.
The cramped room forced the beast into an awkward posture. Even so, it began to unfurl its wings, the air trembling with its intent.
"Crusch—!"
"Roger!"
Without hesitation, Crusch stepped forward, her blade slicing through the air. A crescent gale cut into the dragon's wing, wrenching a scream from its throat. She pressed forward relentlessly, every strike hammering the monster harder into the confines of the chamber.
Subaru, meanwhile, caught sight of something else—someone else.
A girl.
Small, trembling, bound in chains.
Her wide eyes locked with his, wet with terror. Subaru didn't think, didn't hesitate—he darted beneath the dragon's towering frame as it battled Crusch, sliding across the ground to seize the girl in his arms and leap away. A colossal black tail smashed down where she'd been a heartbeat earlier.
"Got you—"
Subaru hissed through his teeth, clutching her tightly as he rolled away.
Above, Crusch leapt atop the dragon's head, blade raised high.
"It's over!"
Her sword cleaved downward, a gale bursting from its arc. The strike split the beast's face from its eye to its jaw. The dragon convulsed, seizing for a moment—then collapsed in a thunderous crash that shook the chamber.
Subaru froze, staring at the unmoving bulk.
Too easy.
Way too easy. Where was the regeneration? When they'd blown its skull apart before, it had grown back—so why not now?
His frown lingered as he set the girl down. She shook violently, tears still brimming.
"Don't worry!" Subaru forced a grin, gesturing toward Crusch.
"See? The hero's already taken care of the evil dragon!"
Crusch descended from the corpse with her blade still in hand, though she gave a slight nod at Subaru's words.
"…I hardly think myself deserving of a title like that. But I thank you nonetheless."
"Yeah, yeah." Subaru muttered, tearing apart the girl's bindings. He crouched lower, his tone softening.
"Hey, can you help us? Do you know where the others are being held?"
The girl swallowed hard, then raised a trembling hand, pointing toward a smaller door at the back of the broadcasting chamber.
"Y-Yes… behind that door… that's where they are."
"Good." Subaru patted her gently on the head, forcing calm into his voice.
"Stay here. We'll bring everyone back safe."
But unease gnawed at him as he rose and stepped toward the door.
"…Still feels way too easy." he muttered under his breath, glancing at Crusch.
"Keep your guard up. I'll check it out."
She gave a sharp nod.
"Of course."
Subaru's hand froze on the knob. Something in his gut screamed at him, but he pushed it down and shoved the door open anyway.
The stench hit him first.
It wasn't the smell of people—it was copper and rot, iron and metallic, cloying enough to choke on, though whether that was from disgust or something else Subaru couldn't tell.
Then came the sound.
Bzzzzzzzzt—!
An ear-splitting chorus of wings, dozens, no perhaps even a hundred, vibrating so hard it rattled his bones. The dark room writhed with life.
And then, the eyes.
Countless crimson pinpricks lit up at once, blinking in unison. Giant flies, each the size of a man, shifted in the shadows. Their compound eyes glittered like rubies in a pit of tar, wings flexing wetly. One brushed past his sleeve as he staggered back.
"Hrrk—what the hell is this?!"
Panic burned through his chest, and instinct screamed louder than thought. Subaru slammed the door shut, the thud cutting off the chorus of wings—
"Gyaahahahahaha—!!"
The laugh sliced through him.
He turned despite his disgust—and his blood ran cold at the scene before him.
Crusch was on the ground, her blade scattered from her hand. A dainty foot pressed against her back, pinning her like a trophy.
The foot of the trembling hostage girl.
"—No…"
Subaru's voice cracked.
The girl tilted her head, mock-innocence dripping from her expression. The same wide, tearful eyes from before—now narrowed into a mask of cruel delight.
"Ehhh? Did you really think I was just some poor little hostage? So fragile, so pitiful, just waiting for a h-h-h-hero to swoop in?" She mimicked her earlier trembling, her voice cracking into sobs, before erupting into shrill laughter.
"Aaaah~, you pitiful meat scraps! Your brains only works in one direction and it's disgusting!"
That laugh—he knew it. He hated it.
"…You're—"
"Sin Archbishop of the Witch' Cult representing Lust—"
The girl's smile split wide, far too wide, stretching past what her face should allow. With a sudden, wet rip, she clawed into her own cheek and peeled it apart. Flesh tore away like paper.
The body convulsed, shrieked, rearranged. Skin sloughed off in strips, muscle wriggling and snapping into new shapes. The child's voice warped mid-laugh, deepening, twisting, becoming something different.
Until the frail little girl was gone—
And in her place, spreading her arms in delight, stood Capella.
"It's meee~! Capella, your one and only goddess of beauty! Gaahahahahaha—!"