Emilia had not voiced any of the swirling emotions in her chest. Despite that, the Witch's affirmation carried power.
"Mm, thank you. I think that's how I prefer to live anyway."
After smoothing out her silver hair, Emilia stepped forward. That she did not turn around, never seeing the Witch's face to the very end, was her way of respecting the Witch's will.
She no longer felt any of the fear that came unbidden when first encountering the Witch. She simply puffed out her chest and walked with pride.
Then, when she moved her hand toward the door leading outside, she said the thought that suddenly came to mind.
"Hey, Miss Witch. If you run into Echidna, can you tell her something for me?"
"What is it?"
"If we meet again, next time, let's have tea together. Even if she haunts my dreams, I'm sure I'll welcome her—If possible, I'd like to have it with you and the other Witches, too."
"—!"
For a moment, Emilia's request made the Witch hesitate. And then—
"Yes, I'll tell her exactly that. And if she doesn't like it, I'll grab her by the scruff of her neck and drag her along anyway!"
The Witch confidently spoke those words with conviction. The tone of her voice made plain that she was being quite serious.
Emilia smiled pleasantly as she received the reply. She pushed the door open, stepping into the unfolding darkness beyond.
She did not hesitate. Emilia understood precisely where it led.
—Having overcome her past and selected the present, this was the door that continued into the future.
4
When she awoke from the Trials, it felt different than coming out of sleep.
Her body had not been sleeping; rather, her soul had been separated from her body. With the soul split from the body, and the consciousness remaining awake, one might say it was natural that it would feel different.
If she was sleeping normally, Emilia, never a morning person, would have been in peril of losing precious time. In the past, she had Puck, but she would have to deal with such things herself thereafter.
"…Ah, oh no. It feels like I'm about to cry."
Clenching her teeth, Emilia shook her head, as if to ward off the sense of loss she had yet to recover from. From there, she rose to her feet, stroked the writing on the wall with her palm—and then turned her gaze toward the back of the stone room.
The stone room in which the Trial was conducted, one she had already passed through several times over, had another door at the back leading farther in. It had been firmly closed and seemed completely impassable. Yet, now—
"…It's open. Is this saying, Come on in?"
The Witch atop the hill had said going through the door would lift the barrier. But though the tomb had changed, Emilia did not see any sign that the barrier had been lifted.
Yet, at the same time, she felt something else: In a true sense, what awaited deeper within was the key to lifting that barrier.
"I mustn't get all worried. Anyway, I'll go, see, and do. Okay, let's go."
Pushing back against the faint unease in her chest, Emilia spurred herself on and passed through the door.
Inside was a path that was more cramped than the one that led from the entrance to the stone room, which Emilia could pass through because of her relatively low stature. It was not long until she arrived at a new stone room.
This was a little chamber substantially smaller than the one in which the Trials had been conducted. The other stone room had by no means been large, but a scant two of the large beds from Roswaal Manor would have left no legroom whatsoever.
But such stray thoughts vanished as soon as she saw what was placed in the center of the room.
To Emilia's eyes, it looked like a coffin.
The coffin was transparent, probably made from magic crystals of some sort. The purity was so high, it made her shudder from a single glance, rivaling—or even exceeding—that of the stone Puck had used as his icon.
Within the coffin constructed from magic crystals of such abnormal composition rested a single woman—naturally, she was not breathing. Her pallid face bore no signs of vitality; this was an empty shell devoid of life.
She had long, glossy hair as pure as any snow. Her skin was reminiscent of porcelain, and her face was so lovely that just seeing it was enchanting. Her torso and limbs were covered in a dress that seemed pitch-black, making her a woman of black and white, the extremes of the world, with her ethereal beauty unmarred by anything extraneous.
Without thinking, Emilia let a sigh of admiration trickle from her lips.
If she looked in a mirror, she would be greeted by one of the beauties of the age, but Emilia had little appreciation for her own face. However, her heart was now trembling from the immaculate beauty of the woman before her.
It was a face she had met many times over in the Trials, that of the Witch of Greed—
"—She looks like Echidna, but who is this?"
—Though reminiscent of the Witch, Emilia had never seen this woman before.
" "
Accompanied by faint surprise, Emilia's thoughts strayed from the coffin as she surveyed the room's interior. It was a cramped room. She hardly needed to look around to tell the coffin was the only notable object within. There was no sign of a door or a path leading deeper. This was the innermost part of the tomb—the room in which its mistress ought to have been laid to rest.
"And yet, this isn't Echidna…but she does resemble her. An older sister, maybe?"
Her memories of the Witch's appearance were still fresh; there were many commonalities between her and this woman. With her eyelids closed, her face, from her eyes to the bridge of her nose down to her lips, seemed constructed in a similar fashion. But in contrast to Echidna, who looked to be in the latter half of her teens, this woman was old enough to be in her midtwenties—though there seemed no doubt they were connected by blood.
"It's really weird for an older sister to be resting here even though it's Echidna's tomb, but…"
With no other conclusions coming to mind, Emilia tilted her head at the mysteriousness of it.
Then she tilted her head further as she noticed the ritual that spread throughout the entirety of the tomb, with this coffin as its center.
"Ah…," she went, her voice slipping out unconsciously. Both the scale of the ritual and the level of its complexity were impressive. Accordingly, Emilia was certain this was the key to the barrier constructed in the Sanctuary.
"Incredible… It's amazing; I don't have any idea what to do…"
Though she was a spirit mage, Emilia strove to have a decent understanding of magic beyond her specialty. However, the complexity of the ritual before her eyes was far beyond anything like the fundamentals that Emilia was familiar with.
If it was stopped once, it would never activate again—of course, there was no need to do so regardless…
"This. If I stop the flow here, that should break it…"
Touching a hand against the coffin, Emilia found the core of the precisely crafted ritual. It matched up with where the woman sleeping in the coffin folded her hands over her chest—that was the nucleus.
For one brief moment, she hesitated. If she broke the ritual, the barrier would be lifted, and the tomb, bereft of its duty, would become dormant. If that happened, she would lose her only means of going to the tea party as well as all leads about the Witch who knew her mother— "…That has nothing to do with any of this!"
Emilia slammed a fist against the coffin, seemingly to drive her hesitance away.
That instant, the core of the ritual shattered, and cracks spread across the crystalline lid of the coffin like a spider's web.
The shattering of the core made the flow of mana go completely out of control, sending a torrent of dazzling light surging within the room. This light disturbed the serene atmosphere, making Emilia's silver hair glimmer, before finally, it suddenly vanished.
The tomb's functions had come to a halt—that was what Emilia read from the shift in the air.
"This time, it's over… Mm, it has to be."
There was no change visible to the eye. Yet, something was unmistakably different. Clenching her teeth, Emilia was certain that the room had become a simple resting place for a coffin—that the tomb itself had become a mere structure.
With this, the barrier imprisoning the residents of the Sanctuary was gone. The choice whether to accept that result and live outside the Sanctuary was now theirs.
Of course, with Roswaal's support at her back, Emilia intended to respect the decision the people made, no matter who they might be—
"Come to think of it, Roswaal mentioned a teacher… Is this person his teacher?"
Roswaal had spoken the word when he'd directed biting sarcasm and ferocious insults at Emilia just prior to her challenging the tomb. He'd said, in the beginning, it was just him and his teacher. She didn't know any details about what it was the two of them had started.
But if he meant the Sanctuary itself, the ties between this woman and Roswaal ran deep.
"On that note, I need to speak to everyone…to Ram and Roswaal especially."
The woman in the coffin was secondary. Her top priority was to tell everyone the fact that the barrier had been lifted and to get the people remaining in the Sanctuary out—Subaru hadn't explained the fine details, but he had said this was necessary.
And that probably had something to do with Roswaal's odd behavior. She needed to hurry.
Turning, Emilia slipped through the passage with urgent steps, heading through the stone room on her way outside. The people of the Sanctuary and Earlham Village should have still been in the clearing, with Ryuzu and Milde representing them.
Then, as Emilia raced out of the tomb—
"—Eh?"
—the skin-stabbing cold and the ferociously blowing snow covering the Sanctuary made Emilia let out a white breath.
CHAPTER 5
I LOVE YOU DOWN TO YOUR BLOOD AND GUTS
The scent of smoke and fire filling his nostrils stole Garfiel's attention for only an instant.
He had a vague awareness of scorching heat in the distance. Slowly but surely, the burning was spreading, which meant the fire was gradually consuming the mansion. Just who had unleashed it?
"Getting distracted again?"
Not letting a single moment of stagnancy slip by, Elsa closed in and swung, pursuing Garfiel with her blade.
Seeking to take his life as the price of looking away was a rather greedy thing, even more so where Garfiel, onetime apostle of the Witch of Greed, was concerned.
But having severed all ties with the Witch of Greed, he was unmoved by such avarice.
"As if!!"
"That's too bad."
Once more, Garfiel caught a slashing knife by his fangs before biting down and shattering it.
Having lost her weapon to the power of his jaws, Elsa instantly let go of the handle and leaped backward. Garfiel remained planted at a medium distance as she put a fresh kukri into her hand, tilting her head.
"You pretended to be distracted. Quite an actor you are. Or perhaps that was an invitation?"
"You don't need to make every single thing ya say suggestive… Would ya stop playin' dumb already?"
"—? Hmm? About what…?"
The smile on Elsa's glossy lips only deepened Garfiel's suspicions. From her reaction, he concluded there was no connection between Elsa and the fire. The time they'd spent together in mortal combat had established she wasn't one to rely on trickery or seduction.
In that case, the chance that someone on his side was responsible for the fire—probably spawning from one of Subaru's plans—was high.
"That's pretty extreme…but it sure as hell is effective. Way to go,
General!"
"I am a little unsure what this is about, but don't you put a little too much stock in him?"
"Ha, save the sour grapes. I told ya, those demon beasts standin' in the way ain't no match for the general! Piece of cake!"
If Subaru was the mastermind behind the fire, the objective was probably to drive off the demon beasts. Whether the proposal came from Subaru or Otto, it was exactly the kind of thing they would resort to.
Demon beasts feared fire, too. They'd probably succeeded in securing the escape route. Which meant—
"If I smash ya flat, that'll complete our victory!"
"You certainly talk a good game—isn't that easier said than done, though?"
As Garfiel psyched himself up, a bloody smile hovered in his field of vision as Elsa's form grew indistinct.
As she entered the realm of pure speed in a single step, Garfiel opted to lower his stance and charge as well. With the space between them gone in a single instant, the two collided in the middle of the corridor— "—!!"
—or rather, just before they were to do so, one kicked off the ceiling and the other from the floor as both respectively bounded away from that place.
The next moment, the wall facing the courtyard was destroyed by an impact that seemed to make the entire building shudder. The impact had struck the first-floor-turned-battlefield, but clearly the floor above was not spared as it began to cave in.
All this was due to the enormous, boulder-like demon beast that had so grandly crashed into the building.
Naturally, the appearance of a beast so huge that it shocked the imagination was an unexpected development even to Garfiel. This was followed by something more unexpected still—a cutesy voice levying objections from atop the mass of boulders.
"Awww, I can't believe you're doing this! Stand up, Rock Piggie!
Quick!!"
"Ahhh? Some runt's ridin' that thing?"
The rambunctious voice he heard coming from atop the beast left Garfiel with a grimace. When he looked closer, there was a girl with blue hair in a braid straddling the back of the mass of boulders—so this was the Beast Master in the flesh?
And the reason this Beast Master was intruding here was— "Garf! So this is where you were!"
"Sis?!"
With a flourish, a blond maid—Frederica—slipped through the shattered wall and landed in the half-destroyed corridor. The reunion with Frederica, who was supposedly fleeing, made Garfiel rush over, eyes bulging.
"What the hell are ya still doin' here?! What happened to Ram's sis, the general, and the rest?!"
"I fulfilled the duty entrusted to me. You understand the reason I remained behind, don't you?"
Seeing Frederica close one eye as she spoke these words shut Garfiel right up.
He could see a number of wounds Frederica had sustained. Of course he could. In keeping the Beast Master at bay, she must have taken on countless demon beasts in the process.
Unlike Garfiel, who'd trained and trained as he kept struggling to become stronger, his elder sister had no doubt spent many days that had nothing to do with fighting. Just how deeply had this battle cut into his sister's flesh and bones?
"…Don't make such a pathetic face."
Noticing Garfiel's gloomy expression, Frederica landed an open-palm chop right on his wide-open forehead. Though it didn't hurt, Garfiel let out a reflexive "ow," glaring at his older sister.
"Garf, I understand you are being considerate, but I, too, am a servant of the Mathers family… For better or worse, I have had the fundamentals of self-defense drilled into me."
"Ya say that but… Ah, then again, Ram's damn strong. Aight, you've convinced me."
"The fact that you chose her as the most relevant point of comparison puts me in a slightly awkward position…"
Frederica put a hand to her forehead as she clacked her fangs, seeming a little troubled. Perhaps it could be chalked up to them being siblings, but Garfiel and Frederica were exactly alike in certain habits.
And apparently, Garfiel and Frederica weren't the only ones around with this kind of relationship.
"Meili, are you all right? I hope you're safe, but I do wish you didn't interfere."
"Sheesh, Elsa, you're so self-centered! The main reason I have to work this hard is because you ran off ahead! You'd better reflect on that!"
"Once we're done here, I'll make it up to you—now, do your job."
Elsa's reply made Meili pout as she obediently got to work. The moment the young girl clapped her hands, the boulder-like creature instantly swung its body around and then slowly turned its head toward Garfiel and Frederica.
Garfiel sensed other demon beasts drawing near from both inside and outside the mansion. She truly was a Beast Master.
However, Elsa quizzically cocked her head to the side with a questioning look.
"The number of demon beasts seems rather low…"
"The big maid nailed a bunch of them before we got here! Besides, the mansion's been set on fire. On top of that, it seems like the shadow lion died."
Meili, answering Elsa's question with a sour look on her face, continued:
"It was a rare one that obeyed me despite still having its horn, but its short temper was the flaw in that jewel. And it failed me right when I needed it most…!"
"I have trouble understanding why you brought such a difficult demon beast along to begin with."
"Because no one else could keep the others in line! …Anyway, Elsa, what about your opponent?"
Looking down at the corridor from atop the demon beast, Meili caught sight of Garfiel. "Hmm," she went, letting out a breath of deep interest with a passionate smile that was extremely strange for a girl of her age on numerous levels.
"Elsa has her eyes on you, Mr. Scary Face. You poor, poor thing."
"If it's a nasty face you want, there's no topping the general. So what, you sisters gonna come at me together?"
Garfiel's reply earned him a look of surprise not only on Meili's face but Elsa's as well.
They weren't shocked at being called sisters. Certainly, the two didn't seem connected by blood. The pair might have been similar in appearance, but it was far more difficult to claim a family resemblance.
But they were most definitely sisters—that was what Garfiel's intuition told him.
"Sisters? Yes, I suppose you're right… So now that we have sisters gathered on one side and siblings on the other, I think it's time we got back to business. Don't you?"
Standing beside the demon beast, Elsa posed the question as she pointed the tip of her kukri toward him.
With a quick glance, Garfiel checked on Frederica's state as she stood beside him. Her breathing was ragged, her face was pale from blood loss, and her visible wounds were, on average, ones that could not simply be shrugged off.
"Garf."
Noticing his gaze, Frederica called out to him. Garfiel could not help but force out a smile at the emotions infused within her simple mention of his name—Don't be disappointed in me, Frederica's gaze begged.
Quietly, Garfiel stepped forward—this was where everything would be settled.
"The mansion's on fire, we got a horde o' demon beasts outside, and my older sister behind me is tryin' to put up a strong front, as battered as she is."
"—?"
"Got a bunch of people I gotta save and some powerful enemies whose teeth I gotta kick in. The general said he's counting on me. And the girl I love chewed me out real good, too."
"What in the world is Mr. Scary Face getting at…?"
"Ain't it obvious?!"
Strangely, Elsa and Meili both had their heads tilted at the exact same angle. In contrast to their questioning looks, Garfiel clacked his fangs with a radiant look on his face.
"With a situation like this, what man in the world wouldn't be burnin' up?! It's time to do this! This is basically before the Dragon, Sword Saint
Reid drew his sword and laughed!"
"That's an idiom for someone who's seriously messed up in the head, you know?"
"Yeah, and? I'm about to take on the both of ya, so how's that the wrong thing to say?"
Garfiel bluntly acknowledged the level of his own recklessness.
Elsa blinked hard, temporarily at a loss. However, this lasted for only a few moments.
Elsa broke into a smile as the light of madness flared in her eyes. She licked her lips in anticipation.
"Yes. You're absolutely right."
Garfiel slammed his shields together as he prepared to face his eager opponent.
"Wait a second, Elsa—have you already forgotten what we came here to do? Mama's gonna scold us."
"I suppose so. You deal with the other one, then. I want to focus on this child."
"Boo. You always do this, asking me to do stuff at the drop of a hat. I mean, really—"
Meili complained about how Elsa was abandoning the job, but before she could finish her thought, Garfiel drove home why it was important to not get distracted.
"—Oooaaah!"
Suddenly raising a battle cry, Garfiel poured his strength into the sole of his foot. Instantly, it punched through the half-destroyed mansion and straight into the ground, kicking up a square of soil. Thus, he launched it forward with a tremendous kick.
"—?!"
Elsa dropped into a low stance that verged on crawling on all fours as she evaded the hurtling missile of packed earth. But the boulder-like demon beast behind her, unable to dodge as quickly with its enormous frame, sustained a direct hit. The impact bowled it over, sending it spinning and crashing into the wall.
"Ahhhhh!"
Meili, who had been riding said demon beast, was thrown off it by the sheer force. Elsa slid in to catch her just before she would have hit the ground headfirst.
"G-Garf, what in the world did you do just now?"
"That's the power of my blessing, As long as my feet are planted on the ground, I can hit whatever I can see. I'll say this only once: I won't let ya interfere with this fight. Not you, and not the little sister over there, either."
Garfiel bared his fangs as he made his declaration. But the blessing of the earth spirit wasn't nearly as potent as he claimed.
Beyond heightening his healing abilities, his power was fully capable of churning up the ground or causing it to cave in. However, the range of this was limited to where his limbs could reach.
In other words, he was bluffing. But precisely because it was a bluff, Garfiel smugly smiled. He had learned from Subaru and Otto these were the times where a smile was absolutely necessary.
"—Meili. Leave the bare minimum outside to maintain the perimeter. Call the others and rouse that demon beast over there."
"…You're gonna make Mama angry."
Freed from Elsa's arms, Meili murmured in a low voice. However, she had already grasped that the situation didn't leave them with many options. Sighing, Meili blew a finger whistle.
She quietly waited as the shrill, high-pitched sound echoed throughout the manor grounds. The demon beasts would be coming. A large force was on its way, gathering to crush Garfiel and Frederica.
His lust for battle flared even brighter. His soul howled he could not lose here.
"I will pluck your limbs off to lighten you and take you home with me. I will love you longer than your cherished person."
"Ain't there even one option to make ya give up on the whole bowel thing?"
Speaking in exasperation as he cracked his neck, Garfiel adopted a forward-leaning stance as he prepared to intercept his foe.
Her upper body swaying, Elsa lowered both hands and let her kukri knives fall to the floor. In their place, she held a pair of vile, malevolent blades—one white, one black, both gleaming in the moonlight. "Sis, just focus on protectin' yourself."
"Meili, you mustn't move a single step forward."
Without any signal, they clashed head-on, leaving their respective sisters behind.
The battle between the Bowel Hunter and the Sanctuary's Shield entered its final scene.
Then the corridor of the mansion exploded into a confused, chaotic battle, a banquet of blood, flesh, and bloodlust.
"—!!"
When a green tail passed before his eyes, Garfiel opened his fangs and bit down without a second thought.
Purple fluid sprayed, and the noxious liquid burned as it spattered across his flesh. But he cared not. With a mighty swipe of his arm, he smashed both of the two-headed snake's skulls.
An instant later, malevolent death in the form of a curved blade grazed just past the tip of his chin.
Following in the wake of that slash, a gust blew the remains of the ruined demon beast away. After his momentary brush with death, Garfiel advanced instead of giving ground, smacking the face of impending doom away.
Both his arms were spread out wide, catching his opponent by the torso and flank. Her bones and viscera squelched as powerful hands twisted wherever they found purchase.
" "
In his ears and before his eyes, a cacophony of bestial roars came from every direction. Anguished cries, screams, and his own yells mixed together. These overlapped with the sounds of metal crashing and scraping against steel. Sound and light were so muddled that it was hard to tell what was even happening.
But Garfiel didn't care. The resistance he felt, his gnashing fangs, and the bloody smile he caught glimpses of were all genuine.
The brute force of his attacks were making the killer before him spit blood, staining her pleasant smile so much that it was more black than red. Yet, even as she weathered those brutal attacks meant to rob her of life, the pleasure never left the woman's black eyes.
Garfiel instinctively felt that more than her combat ability, more than her vitality, it was her mind that was the most dangerous part of her nature.
"—Yah!" "Gaaaaah!!"
A short breath was answered by a howl.
The woman's left arm was removed, and the wicked blade it held vanished from Garfiel's field of view. Immediately after, there was a series of high-pitched sounds—first behind her, then reflecting off the wall, bouncing off the ceiling, striking the floor, and from there, the wicked blade flew right at Garfiel's back.
After a moment of indecision, Garfiel decided against turning around as he focused his attention on the woman as she prepared to attack with her right arm—allowing the deadly blade to bury itself into his right shoulder, momentarily locking him in place.
The lethal attack was about to land.
"—?!!"
That was when he kicked up the remains of the two-headed snake between him and the blade aimed at the back of his head.
The corpse kept the keen edge from slicing into him, but the blunt force was still effective.
The blow dazed him and knocked him into a spin, creating a fatal opening —or at least it would have had he not poured all his strength into his feet beforehand. With the blessing of the earth spirit, he propelled himself off the floor in a single leap.
Garfiel's unexpected behavior and counterattack caught the woman by surprise. In the span of a few moments, he swung his left arm in a low arc to grab the woman's face—a left arm growing explosively as it became a monstrous limb.
Using partial transformation, he tore at her face as if to rip it right off.
"Gyahhhhh—!!"
The clawing left intense gouges, stronger and deeper than the one that had once smashed her face. The five finger-blades carved deep inside her skull, making even that woman scream and slowing the movements of her feet.
"Raaaagh!!"
The woman took a direct kick straight to the torso, sending her body flying backward with ease.
With her ribs already broken and her internal organs already crushed, it would not have been strange had she died from the pain from being slashed and pounded like that alone. But even as fresh blood coursed from the prone woman, a broken, laughing voice also escaped her.
—Her life had not been extinguished. Her fighting spirit was undiminished. Her nature was unsalvageable for all eternity.
"Tch! It's just one thing after another!"
Just as Garfiel was preparing to launch a follow-up attack, demon beasts cut across the battlefield to bear down upon him.
Mice with black wings, large ferocious dogs with mottled patterns on their bodies, and a horde of two-headed snakes burning with rage for their slain kin—plus one back-in-action enormous pile of boulders aptly called a Rock Pig—all came rushing at him.
"Garf! I'll handle those!"
Right as Garfiel braced himself against the demon beasts aiming to land a surprise attack, the monsters were ripped asunder somewhere behind him. There was no time to turn around, but he could still tell that Frederica's ferocious attacks were mowing their foes down.
All that remained was for Garfiel to deal with the one charging at him with a frame large enough to rival the whole mansion.
"Get pancaked!!"
Receiving Meili's command, the Rock Pig bounded forward with its woefully short four legs, leaping toward him. No longer was this simply a charging beast; it had transformed into a projectile with the mass of a falling building.
No single person had the power to withstand such a blow—which was precisely what the monster's instincts cried out.
Spreading and firmly planting both feet, Garfiel called upon the full force of his blessing of the earth spirit. The blessing of the soil conveyed through the soles of his feet made the tendons and muscles of his entire body swell and throb—the blood lurking within him burst forth as his flesh changed form.
"—Ooooooo!!!"
The booming roar of his soul was not directed outward; it reverberated within his own flesh and blood.
His abominable, difficult-to-accept bloodline had been a constant and not always welcome part of his life. Now, of his own volition, he summoned it forth, seized control of it, and turned it into raw power to carve out his own destiny.
His skeleton creaked and groaned as it transformed. His neck, his torso, and his head were changing into those of a beast. A great golden tiger's mane sprouted as his clothes burst apart, unable to withstand the pressure. But the shields attached to both his arms remained in place, now looking like bangles on swelling arms that appeared to be violence incarnate, rivaling even the Rock Pig in stature.
" !!!!"
The two males—or rather, the beasts collided. The impact was felt across the mansion, spawning an explosive sound that ripped through the air.
The rocky demon beast's ramming attack was stopped cold as the ferocious tiger pounded its greatsword-like claws into the pig's face. Some of the claws were ripped off at their base by the thick, formidable hide; though not slain by the force of the charge, the great tiger was nonetheless forced back, reeling as its enormous opponent followed up by stomping down on its chest from straight above, driving the tiger into the floor and drawing sprays of blood.
"Keep it up, Rock Piggie!!"
Even though she heard the sounds of its bones breaking and its flesh being crushed, the demon beast's master did not let her guard down.
Obeying its master's almost-tearful command, the Rock Pig issued a roar as it raised both its front paws upward, coming down for a second stomp that was aimed at the great tiger's skull.
—But before it could, the ferocious tiger used the strength of its abdominal muscles to launch its body upward; the demon beast took the blow straight in its wide-open gut.
The demon beast with boulder-like hide normally never revealed its belly, where its defenses were thin and fragile.
Sharp fangs pierced the tough skin, which the tiger's claws had failed to penetrate, cutting deep into the flesh.
"Grrrraaaaggghhhh—!!"
While keeping its mouth lodged in the Rock Pig's gut, the ferocious great tiger rolled its body sideways. This tore at the prey's flesh, which was still caught on the fangs and was the predatory behavior characteristic of the water dragons.
The great tiger's fangs rent flesh not to consume but to kill without mercy.
There was a vast amount of blood and viscera that poured out, proportional to its prey's enormous frame. The gore flowed out in a veritable wave, flooding the mansion corridor.
" oo."
The whites of its eyes bared, the Rock Pig uttered a frail death cry as it collapsed.
"No way… U-unbelievable… I don't believe this!"
Meili backed away as Garfiel spat out blood and entrails, pushing the enormous corpse away.
She'd whistled with her fingers to gather a horde of demon beasts together, but now that all the big ones like Rock Piggie had been wiped out, only small- and medium-size ones were left to answer the call. Her advantage had crumbled in mere moments.
"Ughhh! Look what you've done! Elsa! Elsaaa! Do something!"
"…What a slave driver you are."
Tousling her braid, the killer responded to Meili's tearful cry for help. Slowly, Elsa Gramhilde's raven-black hair swayed as she approached, her savage face having already regenerated.
Exuding seductive charm and a murderous beauty, she shot Garfiel a passionate glance.
"You tore into a woman's face without hesitation. You truly are marvelous…"
"Gargh, raaagh…!!"
The smiling woman's vile, blood-marred visage made the great tiger growl with a fierce shake of its broken shoulders. The trembling tiger's massive frame grew taut as the enlarged flesh gradually returned to human form. A few seconds later, a half-naked boy reappeared on the field of battle.
"Argh… Crap, looks like I'm back. Head freakin' hurts…"
"I see… So that makes you a half-beast. I thought you were merely a human with a foul look in his eyes."
"Gotta say, if that was the rule, no way our general'd be human."
Shaking his head, Garfiel checked how his body felt upon his returning to human form.
The process of compressing his skeleton back into a smaller body had joined his broken shoulders enough that they could move at least. That said, even slight movements made creaks and white-hot pain shoot through him. It would be a long time before he would move at full strength again.
"You said it didn't bother you…but you must be thinking it is rather absurd by now?"
" "
"Even though you are injured all over, my wounds are simply healing. The gap between us grows greater as time passes… Do you not think it is unfair?"
There was not a single scratch to be seen on Elsa's long, slender limbs. If the blood was wiped off, the luster of her white skin would be unmarred underneath. In contrast, Garfiel's wounds were only becoming graver.
Perhaps it was logical to condemn that so-called immortality as an unfair advantage.
"Me, I ain't ready to give up. And I ain't takin' back what I said."
Shaking his head, he rejected such timid thoughts. He never needed them to begin with.
"You ain't immortal. It's that ya won't die till someone kills ya, right?
Ain't that right, vampire?"
"…You knew."
"I had a hunch. Me, I loved readin' books since waaaay back. I knew there were special sorts like that. Didn't think I'd meet one right after leavin' home, though."
From time to time, books from the outside world found their way into the Sanctuary, though Garfiel had no idea who the sender might've been, nor could he tell from the types of books what they hoped he might learn from them.
Garfiel read anything he could, so that he might one day find a way to butcher whatever it was that saddened the woman he'd fallen for.
It was in the course of those studies that he had read somewhere that the beings known as vampires possessed special characteristics.
"Apparently, one of the old Witches was one, too. That Witch is dead. And that means you can die, too."
Garfiel had already dealt Elsa what were supposed to be fatal wounds four times and counting. Even if she'd inherited that characteristic from an immortal monster of legend, her regenerative power had to have limits.
It'd take probably one or two more times, and that'd settle things. But before it came to that—
"…If your little sister swears to never do evil ever again, I ain't unwillin' to let her go."
"…You truly are an adorable child."
With a smile, she dashed the final bouquet of compassion he offered her. That was his signal.
With an explosive step, Garfiel leaped straight forward. A wicked blade sliced directly down to intercept him, aiming to cleave his head. The force of the attack tore the mansion corridor apart.
Catching the attack on his shield, the blade cut shallowly into his breast.
Heedless of the spatter of blood, he pressed on, continuing to advance— "Gusteko, where I was born, is a very, very cold land far to the north."
They continued to exchange blows when suddenly, words woven like a song slipped into his eardrums.
He shouldn't have heard it. His consciousness was ablaze, intercepting and dealing lethal strikes with every passing moment, leaving no room for such a voice to slip through. That should have been the case, but it sneaked in regardless.
"It is a country with a vast chasm between rich and poor. Children abandoned by the destitute are not a rarity. I was one myself, without parents for as long as I can remember, living off what stagnant water and scraps I could find."
"—Raaagh!!"
"I stole, and I hurt people. Days spent like that blended together… What was I living for; what was happiness? In those days, I had no time to think about such things."
Garfiel gave a mighty swing of his arm to blow Elsa's face away. She sidestepped the attack. A silver arc flashed. He tilted his body to dodge it. Evasion became counterattack, only to be foiled. Distance opened between them.
"That day was a particularly cold day."
"Shaddap! I ain't listenin'!!"
"On that day, the wind blowing down from the sacred mountain was cold, and it was freezing inside the city. Amid raging snow so cold it froze even your breath, I was working as a thief when a shop owner caught me."
Elsa let out a tender sigh, speaking as if she were watching a dream.
The fury of her blade grew wilder, carving into Garfiel as his shoulder injuries dulled his defenses.
"No one would have complained had he killed me then, but I was a woman. Even now, I remember the vulgar smile on that man's face as he started to tear off my clothes."
"Gaaagh…!"
"As that cold, freezing wind blew, he stripped off my tunic and even took my underwear… When I thought it was better to freeze to death than to suffer whatever indignities he would subject me to, I picked up a piece of glass that just happened to be close by."
She raised one of her long legs and kicked at the side of Garfiel's head, sending him crashing into the wall. The impact stunned him, rattling his brain, but he'd also shattered the arch of Elsa's foot in the process. Her expression of ecstasy sent a shudder straight through him.
"It was not as if I meant to do it. It just so happened that I thrust the piece of glass into his belly."
" "
"I felt no hesitation at taking another's life. I felt nothing as I listened to the man's scream. But in that cold wind, one thought occurred to me."
As Garfiel's breath caught, Elsa flashed a vacant, engrossed smile like a maiden in love.
"—Why are blood and intestines so warm?"
He escaped from the reach of the lashing blade, which practically crawled across the ground, nearly shearing off his ankles as he unleashed a kick. Elsa evaded his attack with a leap away. Garfiel clicked his tongue as the killer distanced herself.
He wasn't simply irritated by the difficulty of taking her down.
"If there is anything that can be called true happiness in this world, it must be found in the warmth that lets you forget the cold. It was that day I, a person born with nothing, finally gained something that truly belonged to me. For the first time, I was happy. I suppose you cannot understand that?"
"I don't wanna, either."
"That's fine. I wasn't hoping for you to sympathize with me anyway."
"Then why'd ya have to tell me all that crap? It's disgustin'."
"I wonder why myself."
Looking at Garfiel, whose eyes contained nothing save hostility, Elsa curiously tilted her head. Then she narrowed her mystified eyes, her cheeks faintly blushing as she gazed at Garfiel.
"Most likely because I am quite fond of you."
"…Sorry, but I've already fallen for a woman. I ain't got time for some chick messed up in the head."
"How cold. But that's fine. I only have business with what's inside you, after all."
She almost seemed to make sense, but in the end, Garfiel couldn't understand a single thing about her.
Having listened to Elsa's personal tale, Garfiel came to one conclusion.
Of course, he had no intention of understanding her, nor did he intend to forgive her. The only thing he could do was end her.
"—I'm gonna kill ya, Elsa Gramhilde."
"—It is because you will kill me that you are my first love, Garfiel Tinzel."
Calling each other by name was the one and only connection they shared. The rest, they entrusted to violence.
The wicked blades became light, raging, carving, slicing the halfdestroyed mansion corridor apart. Amid that shower of blades, Garfiel dodged—No, he defended with the minimum amount of movement with his shields, holding his ground.
Blood flowed as a blade nicked his shoulder, his belly, his leg, and his head, but Garfiel was unshaken.
The distance shrank to six paces. Garfiel swung his left arm, sending the shield atop it flying straight forward.
At five paces, the shield struck Elsa's arm, shattering her fingers, causing her to drop the weapon in her left hand.
At four paces, countless slicing attacks came at the now-defenseless left side of his torso, drawing blood. He did not stop.
At three paces, he stomped with the sole of his foot. The ground exploded and rose up. The mansion uttered its death cry and broke apart.
At two paces, the Bowel Hunter struck with a spinning attack at maximum speed, which she aimed at his torso with more force than he'd ever witnessed in his entire life.
At one pace, he covered his chest with his right shield, the arm underneath breaking as he parried the Bowel Hunter's blow.
"—Do you think you blocked it? Don't be careless."
Garfiel heard that laughter-filled voice as she dropped a long leg toward his face. The descending heel and the dully gleaming blade embedded within were aimed right at the center of Garfiel's head— "—Elsa!"
Suddenly, a shriek-like voice made Elsa leap back.
The east wing of the mansion, after being engulfed in flame and withstanding repeated blows, was finally collapsing. Meili, right under one of the falling fragments, clutched her head and called out to her elder sister.
It was there that Elsa leaped. She slammed her blade in, carving apart the falling rubble overhead. She sliced, gouged, and penetrated the plummeting pieces one after another. And yet, the cascade of debris never ceased—
Without warning, a gust rushed past her feet. The wind, sporting a beautiful and supple beast with a golden mane, grabbed the girl in danger of being crushed by falling rubble, carrying her to safety.
"Elsaaa!"
Whisked away by the beautiful four-legged beast, Meili desperately called out to Elsa as the creature leaped outside.
Elsa did not turn toward her. Garfiel had already come.
"—!!"
The blade in Elsa's right hand clashed with the bestial claws of Garfiel's left.
With a destructive sound, Garfiel's left arm was ruined, while Elsa's right wrist was left in ugly tatters. Fresh blood scattered all about as Elsa thrust her useless arm forward to shove Garfiel down.
They jostled, practically embracing each other as they bit into each other's necks, then separated as if repelled.
"Urgh, nghhh…"
The left side of her neck was hot. Elsa was unable to even put a hand on the wound, which was bleeding freely, but her cheeks were flushed nonetheless.
Her breath was so hot that it almost seemed like it changed color. Her eyes were filled with unquenchable passion.
—Then she watched as Garfiel hoisted up the Rock Pig's massive body and hurled it.
The boy's eyes blazed with ferocious emotion even as his neck bled from the wound her teeth had left behind. Though she knew where the arc of the hurled mass of rock would end, Elsa continued to gaze at the man she longed for until the very end.
Her labored breaths came unsteadily. As she gazed at the golden-haired boy who aroused such excitement deep in her chest, she said only one thing.
"—So thrilling."
The woman, the murderess, the vampire, the Bowel Hunter was completely and utterly crushed by the incredible mass.
Fresh blood splattered, mixing with the demon beast's bodily fluids. There was no sign of revival—only the aroma of death.
Garfiel let up a war cry, one that reached high into the sky, reverberating throughout the burning and crumbling mansion.
—So ended the battle between the Bowel Hunter and the Sanctuary's Shield.
CHAPTER 6
IT STARTED WITH REVENGE
1
Despite what the dramatic display of colors may have implied, the conflict unfolding was a highly advanced magical battle of precise technique.
With a staff swing, blades of wind were created and loosed at their target.
The invisible attack bore down on the intended victim's legs with enough force to slice apart steel. She had deliberately cast the spell out of sync with her gaze and breathing, even adding in a feint attack for good measure. These were— "—!"
"Surely, this is not all you are caaaapable of?"
With great ease, her enemy—Roswaal—stopped the invisible attack with a flick of his toes.
Seeing that happen and realizing the level of skill that was required to make it possible made her throat freeze over. Dispelling magic by simply stomping on it was a feat far easier said than done. With the tips of his toes, Roswaal had rewritten the composition of the spell.
Through his Gate, he had altered the mana cast by another person without interfering with their Gate directly. Performing such an act in the middle of a battle with one's life on the line was not the action of a sane person.
The one who had done this was Roswaal L. Mathers—famed magic user, current lord of the House of Roswaal, and the man who still desired the title of the greatest court magician of the age.
"Now I'll send one right back at you."
Speaking in a casual tone, Roswaal moved both his hands and his mouth —deploying a trio of incantations from his fingers and lips alike.
This was not a simple combining of elements but simultaneously casting three different spells at once—a technique that verged on the realm of gods. It was an insane technique that all but required three brains to accomplish— and even this was not the true limits of his potential.
It was because she understood this more than anyone that the girl—Ram— was filled with energy as she evaded the resulting downpour of flames. It was then, when he was still not taking this seriously and using the full extent of his powers, that she had a chance of victory.
Ram responded to the three incoming fireballs, respectively colored red, blue, and green, by leaping backward and then intercepting them with more blades of wind. She would slice them away before shifting to a counterattack —but before she could, something upset her plans.
"—?!"
The red flame accepted her wind, acting as if she had poured oil onto it; the force of the flames increased as it transformed into a pillar of fire.
The wind split the blue flame apart, scattering it in all directions, which only further spread its destructive reach.
The green flame absorbed her wind, transforming into a snake of fire that crawled across the earth, causing havoc in its wake.
She responded to every one with all her strength. She vaulted over the intense flaming pillar, kicked off a large tree to evade the curtain of blue flames, and as the green flaming snake opened its jaws to catch Ram with its fangs once she landed—
"—Goodness, what petty tricks, Roswaal. You should know better."
A moment before being engulfed by the flaming snake, a calm voice slid into Ram's eardrums. In contrast to those quiet words, what occurred next was virtually overwhelming.
With its mouth still open, the burning snake froze over. The flying flames and the blazing pillar met similar ends. This was the antithesis of employing multiple spells simultaneously—using a single unstoppable spell to snuff everything out.
And the one who had accomplished this was the little cat floating in the sky, short arms folded—the Great Spirit, Puck. The little cat cocked his head, turning his tail, which was as long as his body, toward Roswaal as he laughed.
"You might have learned a lot of tricks, but you'll need to go big to deal with the likes of me."
"How harsh. I take it that Lady Emilia developed her tendency to favor brute-force approaches from you?"
"No comment."
Crossing his arms in front of him, Puck did not give Roswaal's inconvenient assertion a reply. After that, Puck slowly lowered his altitude, landing on the shoulder of Ram, who was breathing hard, as he lined up right beside her head.
"Are you all right? Pushing yourself too hard will be bad for your body."
"…You may save your concern. After all, it is thanks to the Great Spirit's assistance that I can now manage this battle."
"No need to act tough. But when push comes to shove, manage is putting it nicely. You're an Oni girl without a horn, and I'm a handsome wild spirit without a host, but even with both of us at half strength double-teaming him, he's still toying with us."
Wiping some soot from her brow with a sleeve, Ram internally concurred with Puck's analysis. Earlier, she'd considered counterattacking while he was still toying with them, but she was a long way from even that much.
Yes, she was depleted from the battle with Garfiel, and Puck was in poor condition to assist, but more importantly—
"—You're strong, Roswaal. I have to admire how far a mere human has come after honing themselves."
"I am honored to receive your praise."
Roswaal offered an elegant bow in response to his assessment. It was a theatrical gesture, but by showing that he still had the poise to put on such a display, Roswaal demonstrated that even in this situation, the advantage was still very much his.
—The battle that had kicked off at the Witch's experimental facility deep in the Forest of Cremaldi had shifted, moving away from the building and into the woods.
The traces of the battle had already left the area around the facility a sorry-looking wasteland. There were scorch marks all over, blades of wind had toppled one tree after another, and countless trees had been flash-frozen.
Looking at all this, Roswaal then turned one eye—his yellow eye— toward Ram.
"I was indeed correct to bring this outside. If we had rampaged like this inside, that facility…or rather, that magic crystal would have been broken, which would have been quiiiite inconvenient."
" "
"Of course, you would have accomplished your goal even so, for was that not your aim?"
"Are you claiming I asked the Great Spirit to delay you while I destroyed the facility…? Surely, you jest."
Ram laughed off the assertion, causing Roswaal to raise an eyebrow in surprise. His reaction made Ram loosen her lips. "After all," she went, spinning her words, "by doing such a thing, Ram's objective would go forever unfulfilled."
"—All that said, continuing this indefinitely will work to no one's advantage, yes? You strove for a means to fill the gap between our combat capabilities, but the Great Spirit you have beseeched is far from peak condition."
"…Yes, I suppose so. He is more useless than expected. Not even Ram can conceal her disappointment."
"You really don't sugarcoat your words, huh? Not that I dislike that part of you…"
Puck wore a wry smile as he endured Ram's sharp tongue. "Though, I have to admit," the little cat remarked, his long tail swaying as he looked Roswaal's way, "I'm impressed by how meticulous you are. How and when did you cast that spell on Lia…?"
"Spell…? Great Spirit, to what do you refer…?"
"Well, just listen. It got really hard to come out of my icon ever since we returned from the royal capital. If that was all, I would've pegged it as some kind of scheme by the Witch Cult group that attacked the village and the mansion, but I was stuck in there even after reaching the Sanctuary. So the spell had to come not from an enemy but from one of our own."
Ram furrowed her shapely eyebrows, unable to grasp the meaning of Puck's words. But Roswaal made no effort to interrupt the little cat's words, quietly soaking them up until the last.
"There's a set period when I'm not able to come out of my icon that's related to the pact, you see. It was a little early, but at first, I thought that's what it was. Well, there's also the memories Lia sealed away herself, so I thought it might be more convenient not to talk to her about them. But I was wrong."
As he spoke, Puck's voice lowered but slightly. The tenor of the little cat's voice, from which no emotion could normally be detected, held a perceptible timbre of deep indignation.
"You used my oaths to remove me as Lia's guardian, didn't you? That has to be why you cast a spell on Lia when we returned from the capital. That girl adores me, after all."
"…Strictly speaking, is it not better to say you are a smothering father who cannot leave the girl's siiiide?"
"When you put it that way, it's hard to deny being overprotective, huh?"
As Puck gave a shrug with his tiny shoulders, Roswaal did not deny it as he closed one eye—his blue eye.
"Fortunately, Lady Emilia was in low spirits from her argument with young Subaru. A little sabotage of your pact with Lady Emilia before
departing for the Sanctuary was a trifling affair."
"On the other hand, a pact between spirit and spirit mage is sacred… It's not something that can be toyed with from the outside."
"Even so, I have lived with Beatrice for quite a long time, you seeee. For better or worse, creating loopholes in predetermined things is a specialty of mine—though that girl is too obstinate for such things."
As he spoke about pacts, Roswaal seemed to gaze into the distance for just a moment. The sight made the corners of Puck's black eyes fall ever so slightly as he crossed his short arms.
"You wanted Lia to stay depressed, didn't you?"
"Yes. That is why you needed to be removed. It is not an exaggeration to say that hindering you and young Subaru has caused me the most trouble of all. Subaru is a wild card; you are the only one who actually stands a chance of defeating me in a head-on battle."
"I don't like saying this, but it seems like both you and I expect a lot out of Subaru."
"Perish the thought—the expectations you and I have of him cannot possibly be comparable."
Instantly, Roswaal's tone hardened, seeming to lose a small amount of his composure.
As Roswaal expressed his expectations for Subaru, he pressed a hand to
his chest, clenching it into a fist. The gesture left Ram narrowing her eyes as she felt a throbbing pain in her own breast.
She knew how out of place it was, but Ram could not help but be jealous at how much he placed his hopes in Subaru.
"To me, he is the final key to bringing my greatest desire into reach. You, on the other hand, intend to put him to the grindstone to see if he is worthy of your beloved daughter. Your thinking is very different from mine."
"—Don't bark at me, Roswaal."
As Roswaal's voice became infused with fierce emotion, the cold hostility pouring down became frigid, glacial. Puck's mouse-colored hair was standing up, bringing his presence into sharper relief as he continued:
"Just like you and your desire, I offered myself to Lia, the reason for my existence. Are you suggesting it's easy for me to entrust Lia to someone else?
Don't get cocky, Witch's apprentice."
"…From that last part, I taaaake it you now remember things from prior to your pact?"
"I'm deducing a lot from the situation, you see, but considering whose forest this is, I have a pretty good idea who imposed this pact on me. I remember a man who spoke a lot like you, too."
" "
"Is it to remember your wounds or to punish yourself? Either way, it's very backward-looking of you."
Puck's words gradually sounded more like words of pity than of reproach. Receiving them, Roswaal went, "Backward-looking, is it?" twisting his lips in what seemed to be self-mockery. "Indeed it is. I have always been looking backward…looking at the past. To me, the only wonderful things that have ever existed are in the past. The present is merely what rests atop their bones."
"—!"
"So that's why you obey the book of knowledge. You're struggling to take back the past that you've lost…"
Roswaal's claim made Ram clench her cheeks as she glanced at Puck, who sighed.
Then Puck wearily shook his head side to side.
"I won't belittle your way of life. It's just…"
"Just what?"
"Betty would be sad, Roswaal."
"—!"
Roswaal's expression faintly stiffened. Just how much terrible significance did that single sentence possess?
And then— "—Ul Goa."
"Because I hit the bull's-eye? How childish."
Without preparation or word of warning, fiery missiles shot forth. A towering wall of ice immediately intercepted them.
The sound of their collision rang out. A white shock wave flattened the trees of the forest, heralding that combat had recommenced.
2
"—Guess we're done buying time. Did that give your horn a breather?"
Puck's words, spoken with a deft wink the moment before she leaped, left Ram mentally clicking her tongue. She'd told him that she did not want him to worry about her; the little cat proved a poor listener. What annoyed her more than anything was the frailty of her own body that made the short rest just now a lifesaver.
But what of it? She would never breathe a single word of complaint about her body not being in tip-top condition.
What gave her any right to complain if she did not give it her all? If she lost without her feelings ever reaching him, she could whine and make excuses as much as she liked in the afterlife.
"—!! El Fulla!!"
Tightly clenching her teeth, she swallowed her frustration and readied her staff. Timed with an explosion of the ground, she flew into the air, touching her feet against a large tree's trunk to invert her posture as she converted her mana, unleashing it as blades of wind.
There was no lethal intent behind her attacks. However, even if she aimed to kill, it would not have resulted in as much as a scratch regardless.
Roswaal's response to the mighty blow was skilled and delicate. He rewrote the composition of the incoming magic, disassembling the wind blades into mere mana and capturing it with his own Gate to assign it a different form.
There was the threefold magic using both his hands and his mouth that he had displayed earlier—and on top of that, he used a step to activate the magic he had internalized, unleashing four spells simultaneously in an outrageous display of magic.
"Grgh."
Twisting her lips, Ram put strength into the soles of her feet, which rested against the tree trunk, leaping away at full power. Instantly, the magic, which seemed sure to bite into that large tree, changed its course, curving to tail her as she fled.
"How…persistent!"
Spitting out those words, she slammed more wind into the pair of approaching fiery missiles, landed on the ground, drew them in before rolling backward at the last moment. This forced the one flame that did not keep up with the turn to slam into the ground, and she thrust her staff straight forward into the final, flaming shot.
"Now burst!!"
Using the tip of her staff to shred the mana apart, Ram moved so the blast from the fiery missile passed behind her. It was during that momentary opening that she—
"—It is too soon to relax."
Advancing with long strides, Roswaal drove a punch toward Ram's torso. This was a steel-like fist he had honed through extreme training completely unrelated to magical study. Its destructive power was so great that if it connected, it would affect not only bone but the internal organs as well; the instant it struck, a layer of ice caught the blow.
With a tremendous sound, the frozen shield shattered. Puck, the one who had created the instantaneous defense, whistled.
"So you've trained a whole lot in more than just magic!"
"I do whatever is necessary. If there is ample time, the only cost is the wearing down of the soul. Accordingly—"
Opening the fist that had struck the ice shield, Roswaal twisted his hips and lunged with a thrust of his palm. Of course, the ice kept him from reaching Ram—and yet, the impact shot through Ram's body nonetheless.
"Gah…!"
"That is a combat technique I learned from a ninja who hailed from the west long ago to strike from afar, reaching even past defenses. Effective, yes?"
Struck not by a direct hit but by a shock wave, Ram staggered backward. Her bones creaked, and her innards cried out. It was better than suffering a clean blow, but her body had a fatal weakness and could not risk sustaining any injuries to begin with.
Her breathing was ragged, and her vision blurred. Ram's footing was unreliable. She lifted up her face when— "—Get down!"
When she heard the voice, Ram forced down her rising head. Overhead, Puck—who had circled behind her—thrust out both hands, unleashing a giant pillar of ice toward Roswaal. The magical attack, with a mass rivaling that of the trunk of a hundred-year-old tree, forced even Roswaal to leap a good distance backward.
"It has been half a year since you first forced me to use this—!"
His voice rising as he offered a word of praise, Roswaal demonstrated the true worth of his unparalleled magical skill. With both hands, his lips, and alternating stomps of both his feet, he began casting—fivefold magic.
Unleashing five different spells at once, he melted, sliced, and pulverized the mighty pillar of ice to neutralize it. Scorching heat and absolute zero collided, enveloping the forest in white steam once more. As he employed this, Puck said:
"Can you stand? If you cannot, we will lose after the next move."
"…You say that like it's so easy, don't you?"
Wiping the blood spilling from the corner of her mouth, Ram braced herself with a sigh.
The fact that her condition had begun to deteriorate was proof that she had already gone beyond her limits.
With his pact with Emilia rescinded, Puck's power was greatly reduced. In the first place, he required a vast amount of mana just to stay corporeal. Without a contractor, all he could do to remain in their plane of existence and employ magic was to somehow make do with his reserves.
Even under these conditions, Puck was doing very well due to the skill he possessed. Part of her was tempted to rely on his brute strength to resolve this situation, but if Puck had really gone all out, the situation would have escalated to something unmanageable.
"I think it would have been beeetter for you if you had broken the taboo and used astral transformation."
"If I could absorb mana from the surrounding area without limit, this would end pretty quickly…but if I did that, I'd make Lia sad. If I don't protect what she wants to protect, that's putting the cart before the dragon."
"Bold words after having rescinded the pact yourself."
"Do you think my temporary partner is any less brave?"
When the curtain of steam parted and Roswaal revealed himself, Puck flippantly responded to his sarcasm. The words made Roswaal glance at Ram, now all alone and in a tattered state, causing him to narrow his eyes.
"Brave, you say? Certainly, in terms of being ready to throw away everything for the sake of her objective, one might call her brave…but what she has done is too foolish to be worthy of the word."
" "
"This is a golden opportunity for her to avenge her kin. This, she has wasted with impatience unlike her, and she may well fall as a result… I am extremely disappointed in you, Ram."
" "
"I wanted you to fulfill your desire and be…happy."
Both of Roswaal's eyes were tinged with sadness and a faint whiff of melancholy. This was proof that he was genuinely disappointed that Ram would not complete her objective—and that he regretted she did not stand beside him.
Roswaal genuinely believed Ram should dedicate everything to accomplishing her goal—taking revenge on him for her kin—and he had hoped, until that day came, Ram would walk the same path as he.
Just as Roswaal had hoped Subaru would play the role of coconspirator, he hoped Ram would be the one who would bury him.
Truly, just how much would this man refuse to—?
"—Ram?"
"Over and over, you touched me so many times, yet even so, not once did you realize my true wish."
Exasperated with pity, anger, and self-mockery, Ram seemed to have reached the end of her wits. This was no longer even in the same dimension as obtuseness or a mere difference in ways of thinking.
—The notion that Ram's feelings were not of revenge but of love did not even exist inside Roswaal.
"It would have been so much better had my body smoldered only with hatred and the desire to avenge my kin. Had I been but a vengeful Oni, my chest would not ache so. However—"
Unable to fathom where her words were going, Roswaal merely furrowed his brow with a questioning look. She let a pained smile slip.
Truly, she thought, it was as if this man did not see anything beyond his own feelings.
Therefore, surely, these words, too, would be completely astray from his expectations—
"Master Roswaal, Ram loves you."
" "
Receiving that blunt, straightforward confession of love, Roswaal widened his eyes and froze.
He was agape, shaking his head at the reply, one that he had genuinely not imagined in the slightest.
"Is something amiss?"
"Amiss, you ask… Are you playing a prank on me? Trying to rattle me at a time like…"
"You think I would expect such petty tricks to work on you? Ram is merely stating how she truly feels."
"If not, all the more reason it cannot be true!!"
Roswaal's voice was ragged as he shouted in anger. He thrust a finger forward, trained toward the stiff expression on Ram's face.
"Love me? What are you saying?! You hate me. I am the man you hate. To you, I am a man linked to the cause of your homeland's destruction. Surely, the truth is that you hate me enough to kill me!"
"In the beginning, it was so, but now it is not. Now Ram loves you."
"That is absurd…! Who—who, I ask, would believe in such cheap emotions?!"
Feelings that began with vengeance must continue to remain of vengeance.
Only feelings that began with love could arrive at love.
He, who had stubbornly held to his feelings without a single deviation from them, could not believe Ram's change of heart.
He could not. For if he understood them, it would undermine everything he had done.
"What about your revenge?! Did you not swear upon it?! Did you not swear before your burning homeland and the souls of your dead brethren that you would avenge them?!"
"I do feel bad for my kin, and my chest hurts when I think of my homeland. However, now that I have fallen in love, it cannot be helped. Ram prioritizes her feelings before the dead."
Brazen and defiant, Ram pushed Roswaal into silence, leaving him unable to speak another word.
Therefore, with him silent, unmoving, and unable to believe her change of heart into love, she spoke.
"Ram will not allow you to become an empty shell. Obtaining you in that state is…meaningless."
"…You are contradicting yourself. Even if your feelings are as you say… No, especially if they are, I cannot comprehend your reason for turning against me at this juncture. If events deviate from the book, I… So why?!"
"That is why it must be now. It is only now that Barusu, Lady Emilia, and Garf have shaken Master Roswaal's heart to the point that I have a chance, likely to never come again."
Garfiel had strayed from Roswaal's predictions, Subaru had rejected his search for a coconspirator, and Emilia, who had conquered her own past, had made a promise with Ram—this was the one and only opportunity Ram would be provided in her lifetime.
"Using this one, final opportunity, I shall steal you from your obsession with the Witch—"
Roswaal clearly did not comprehend. Ram mentally mocked herself when she realized she loved even that expression of his.
There was no cure for this disease called love. The only path left to her was to forsake her passion until the moment of her death.
"—Great Spirit!"
"Very well—after all, in addition to my beloved daughter, I'm also the ally of all maidens in love."
Puck responded to Ram's call. Ram howled, not bothering to listen to flippant words unworthy of her ears.
Instantly, a freezing windstorm whipped around the forest. The time of the final gamble had arrived.
3
When the wind relented, Roswaal, whose reactions had been slow, held his breath, gritting his teeth at the spectacle.
Countless mirrors constructed of ice were floating in the air in the forest around him. The reflections of light and landscapes that filled Roswaal's field of vision weakened his situational awareness on the battlefield.
"Petty tricks—!!"
The countless mirrors were reflecting countless Rams and countless Pucks around the forest.
Judging he could not bide his time, Roswaal instantly decided to deploy five instances of magic simultaneously, casting spells to manipulate the world around him.
The resulting flames licked at their surroundings as the forest with the mirrors of ice was turned to ash. But such incantations were insufficient to break up the coordination of demon and spirit.
As Roswaal unleashed more explosive flames, a shadow appeared overhead. He intercepted the flying figure with a fist, finding it surprisingly fragile. Roswaal blinked hard at the sensation of shattering. It was ice. One after another, ice sculptures shaped like people were being hurled at Roswaal from all directions.
He steadied himself and dug in his feet. The next moment, a ferocious gale blew, enveloping ice sculpture and ice pillar alike, blowing them all skyward. During that momentary opening, Roswaal wove his next spell as he leaped backward. Something caught him.
"From beneath…"
"It's not like I tossed them all for meowthing."
Drawing someone's attention upward to strike from below was a small, roundabout trick, but it was terrifyingly effective in a high-end magical battle.
With his movements momentarily but fatally limited, Roswaal focused on his surroundings. What would settle things here was a well-polished and wary mind—but it was then that he sensed something rapidly expanding.
It cannot be, thought Roswaal in shock. But even as he doubted it, the aura swelled larger.
Mowing down the trees and crushing the forest-turned-ash underfoot was a majestic creature so enormous that it seemed to reach the heavens. Its gargantuan frame, boasting fearsome fangs and claws, seemed on par with a small mountain.
Astral transformation—this was the nightmarish trump card of Puck the Great Spirit, known as the Beast of the End, one of the Four Great Spirits, and the one who destroyed Melaquera the Conciliator long ago.
Not allowing him to play that card was one of Roswaal's victory conditions.
For certain reasons, Roswaal was currently unable to employ his own trump card—sixfold magic. If he had to face Puck at full strength, his odds of winning would quickly crumble, and he would most likely wind up being overwhelmed in short order.
In this situation, Roswaal opted to attack with everything he could muster.
Turning to his rear, he glared toward the ferocious visage of the spirit that had undergone astral transforma—
"—What?!"
"—Boo! All I did was get bigger!"
He met the eyes of the enlarged spirit, who had retained his adorable face, and it was at this point that he realized it was a trap. However, it was too late.
Having never canceled his spell, Roswaal launched a flaming missile at the enormously expanded spirit that had become a giant target before him. The scheming spirit was naturally blown away. It would be impossible for him to return to the front lines immediately. All that remained was to use that opportunity to— "—El Fulla!!"
The incantation caused concentrated winds to churn the ground, blanketing Roswaal's vision in rising clods of soil. Brushing the curtain of dirt aside with one arm, he used a long swipe of his leg to kick down one of the hurled ice statues that had been left standing.
Pushing the heavy object to the ground, Roswaal readied his mana once more, forging a new spell.
As he saw it, his greatest enemy, Puck, had been sent flying, and Ram's following, ferocious attack was overcome and finished. Without lowering his guard, he surveyed the forest, searching for wherever Ram was lurking—
—and Ram knew the exact moment Roswaal had looked away from her thanks to Clairvoyance.
"—Aaaghhh."
Concentrating on her forehead, intense pain dyed her vision pure red. Bloody tears flowed from Ram's bloodshot eyes as she stripped off the ice covering her and leaped up from her hiding spot beneath Roswaal's foot.
Impersonating an ice statue and being knocked down was all according to plan. Flesh and bones alike groaned throughout her entire body; a number of her tendons were torn. She ignored all this as her Oni blood seethed.
" "
In that blistering battle, Roswaal realized what Ram's plan was and turned a fist on her. It was too late. Evading with nothing more than a twist of her head, she gently touched his right hand and shattered the bones within. Even as she burned into her eyes the expression of him biting back the fierce pain, Ram brushed his torso. Roswaal drew in his breath.
It was an incomplete Oni transformation lasting less than two seconds— but in that moment, Ram's brute strength far surpassed that of a human being, granting her the strength to break bones with the slightest touch or even rip out his innards if she so wished.
That instant, Roswaal surely foresaw his own defeat. However— "—What?"
—He let out a dumbfounded voice when he failed to feel the pain and impact that should have come.
Leaping with one leg to a distance of some ten yards from Roswaal, Ram came to a sudden stop. Blood flowed from her forehead as she bent over, followed by coughing up a large amount of blood as she fell to her knees.
Victory and defeat had not been settled despite the passing of a decisive moment. That decision left Roswaal narrowing his brows when he finally realized something.
Though Ram was near collapse, she was grasping something that was not hers to hold.
"That's—!"
"To Ram, this is…the root of all evil."
Roswaal's face went pale as he raced over to Ram. Smiling faintly at his action, Ram did not hesitate—she hurled the book of knowledge into the green flame still clinging to a fallen tree.
"—!!"
Roswaal raised an incoherent shout, but the book of knowledge, engulfed by emotionless flame, burned up nonetheless. Making a dreadful little sound, the aged book ignited by the green flame blazed even stronger.
This was Ram's only goal, for which she had awaited her golden opportunity—
"With this, finally…"
Ram slackened as she sighed with satisfaction.
—The very next moment, a fiery missile hurled in anger sent the girl's tiny body flying.
4