Re:Zero EX: "Drowning Life in Another World from Zero (Oboreru/Wrath IF)"

This is the customary April Fools project. Since this is a parallel story to the main plot, character relationships have changed in various ways, though some characters remain the same. Please proceed only if you can accept such changes.

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—I heard a voice filled with hatred. —It will not leave my ears.

—A voice dyed in wrath chased after me. —I am so afraid, so afraid, I cannot bear it.

—I was weighed down by a voice baring its murderous intent. —It has grabbed my soul in its talons and will not let go.

—The more I clung to life, the more I found myself hurting others. —More than anything, I am so sorry, so sorry; even now, I continue to drown.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

—My neck was being squeezed, tighter and tighter.

Straddled and pinned down by a light body, my movements were sealed. My shoulders were pressed down by slender knees, and the freedom of my struggling body was stolen. Before my eyes, the white arms strangling me were covered in red abrasions; I felt a misplaced sense of poignancy, thinking they looked like blooming flowers.

—Tighter, tighter, tighter, my neck was being squeezed.

"————"

Right in front of me were eyes brimming with passion. In those large, round eyes, an endless rage and a hollow sense of despair spread deep, deep within. I thought idly that I might be sucked into the depths of those empty eyes.

"Ah, ka... ugh."

—Flail, flail, flail; I kicked my legs in an unsightly manner.

It wasn't that I was struggling to escape. I had long since lost any intention of escaping. Even so, my legs flailed not as an expression of a will to live, but simply because my body was screaming in pure agony.

A head lacking oxygen, a spirit lacking the will to live, and a body struggling against them. Everything was disconnected; the ugliness of my poorly balanced existence felt repulsive.

I cannot die quietly. I want to die quietly. It would have been best if I could have died as peacefully and reasonably as possible, as if falling asleep. But such a wish would not be granted. Far from being granted, my final moments were the exact opposite.

"Bu, ku, ku."

Foaming at the corners of my mouth, eyes wide as if they were about to pop out, twisting a body like a withered stick that had wasted away in just a few days, I let out a groan like a beast.

Should I call it a fitting end? Should I call it a fitting conclusion?

Just what, how, and why did I end up reaching a place like this?

"—What is so funny?"

Suddenly, a voice fell upon me. Different from the beast-like groans, it was a cold, yet clear and resonant tone.

While strangling me, the owner of those eyes dyed in wrath spun words with thin lips.

"————"

Even being asked what was funny, I couldn't find the words to answer. In the first place, nothing was funny. And yet, what was I being asked?

The question was unreasonable. It was like a riddle, unkind and irrational. Even if it was forced upon me, I had no answer. Despite that, the silence felt uncomfortable.

Just how many times has it been now—being toyed with by unreason and absurdity, by providence, and left behind?

"—What is so funny?"

Nothing is funny.

"Fu, he, hehe."

If so, is the person asking the question mistaken? Or am I enjoying this moment, simply unable to realize it myself?

Being straddled by a woman and having my neck squeezed—am I enjoying this situation? If so, how unpleasant, a rational thought leaked out.

"—What is so funny?"

Nothing is funny. Nothing at all, yet the question is thrown at me repeatedly. It isn't even "thrown." At this distance, it isn't throwing. Touching each other, at a distance where our breaths reach, looking up at the woman's beautiful face, the voice is being smeared onto me. Plastered onto me.

Not even words of reproach, not even insults to degrade me; the voice exists within a pure hatred—

"What is so funny—"

She said.

The question that should have repeatedly sought an answer suddenly vanished like a mist mid-sentence.

"—dzu"

Abruptly, the woman's face before me swayed to the left. Just like that, she couldn't steady her leaning body. With her posture collapsed, the woman's body fell onto the white snow. Naturally, the arms around my neck fell away, and the path to suffocation was cut short.

"—ze, ah."

From my coughing throat, the taste of bitter blood welled up. Inflating my shriveled lungs, then deflating them again, the lacking oxygen was sent into my body one after another. That, too, was a reflexive survival instinct. A sane human being cannot die by refusing to breathe. Though I don't even want to argue whether I am sane or not in this place.

"————"

The state of mind from just moments ago, where I had somewhat calmly accepted death, vanished; now, I cannot let go of my attachment to life called oxygen. Desperately, earnestly, I devour it with unsightly greed.

Then, after filling my lungs with cold air again and again, I noticed.

"————"

Amidst the steadily falling white snow, the woman lay on her side in the thin powder. Her pale face and lips sublimated her extraordinary beauty into something even more beautiful. Her raspy breaths clouded white, and the signs of her fading life burned into my eyes with a strange brilliance.

Looking at her, she was dressed in a way terribly unsuited for a snowy landscape. Her uniform, which exposed her shoulders and thighs, lacked the thickness of cloth to withstand the cold. Areas prone to chilling, like her neck and ears, were exposed to the wind; just watching her made me feel a bone-chilling pain.

With only the clothes on her back—though, that condition applied not just to her, but to me as well.

"————"

—Clatter, clatter, clatter; my teeth chattered, unable to meet.

Whether that was due to the cold or the gloom swirling in my chest, I wasn't sure. However, in this moment, more than the abnormalities of my own body, I couldn't take my eyes off the woman before me.

"—Rem."

Falling on the snow, half her face buried in it, the woman was still beautiful. I could only think that her unceasing hatred and scarlet rage had lit a fire in her frail body, keeping her alive. She was so covered in wounds that it was a miracle she was even living.

"————"

Within the white, snowy landscape, countless corpses lay scattered around me and the woman. The lowly beasts that had gathered to devour life, feast, and violate souls had all been turned into corpses before the woman's wind. Therefore, there were only two living beings in this place. Only me and the woman. And even that might soon become one, or zero.

"————"

I slowly stood up beside the woman, who was faintly muttering something. The fingers of my numbed hands had turned a reddish-black. My body temperature had dropped significantly, and there was no sensation in my cold fingers. Only a slight itch was the meager proof that my fingers were still attached to my body.

Trembling those unreliable fingers, I managed to lift a stone about the size of a human head.

It was just a convenient stone that had been lying there, with nothing unusual or storied about it. I felt a secret sense of relief that I was able to lift it.

I compared the stone in my hand with the fallen woman.

For a moment, the stone I held seemed like the face of a woman who looked just like the one lying there. There might have been a time when she smiled. However, the expression burned into my heart at the very end was nothing but that of a fierce demon, striking with murderous intent and hostility.

As if to shake that off, I raised the stone held in both hands. The pale pink eyes looking up at that movement said in a faint, yet clearly audible voice:

"—I will definitely kill you."

—The sound of the stone striking something hard echoed dully, dully through the snowy forest.

It echoed.

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—On that day, the mansion of Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers quietly collapsed.

Ironically, the one who first caught the signs of that collapse was the woman who had struggled more desperately than anyone to maintain the mansion; therefore, the act was all the more cruel.

"————"

Originally, she held a great debt of gratitude toward Roswaal, the master of the mansion, that she could never repay. That was why, when she learned that the maid sisters who had maintained the mansion were gone and there was no one left to care for the master, she immediately rushed to his side.

The sight of her master, changed beyond recognition, pierced her heart with something terribly, terribly painful.

His heterochromatic eyes, which used to shine mysteriously and always seemed full of confidence; his thin clown makeup, which sounded fine if called eccentric but was, to put it bluntly, the height of strangeness and bad taste; even his choice of clothing, which seemed to scrape at the aesthetic sense of others—Roswaal had lost the light from everything.

Upon reuniting with him, she—Frederica—clenched her fists tightly.

"It cannot end like this. For the sake of those children, I will..."

She intended to work desperately to protect their place of belonging. It wasn't that she could do much, but she wished to do something, and she took action for that purpose.

Moving energetically to rebuild the mansion, taking the hand of the girl who cooperated despite not understanding, pulling the arm of the master who was sunken in lethargy and ennui, she ran about busily every day.

Frederica had no time to stop. Even when her legs felt like they would give way under her painful state of mind, she desperately lifted her head.

If she faltered in a place like this, she wouldn't be able to face her precious people. Before she knew it, she forgot how to smile. Before she knew it, she forgot how to welcome the night with abundance. Even so, Frederica desperately tried to protect what she loved with her hands, as if trying not to let the bubbles scattering on the water's surface escape.

And yet—

"—Ah."

By the time Frederica noticed, everything in the mansion was already too late.

Her shoe soles were trapped on the white, freezing hallway, and she lost sight of where she was. The scenery of the mansion, which should have been familiar, turned into something clearly different from what she knew.

The hallway she had painstakingly cleaned, the kitchen where she had worried over daily meals, the daily life where she had scrambled to care for difficult people—everything was being trapped in a world of white mist before Frederica's eyes. And the one who did it was—

"Great Spirit-sama..."

"I'm sorry, Frederica. You've done nothing wrong. —It's just that, if I'm going to protect my most precious thing, making this decision is the most correct answer."

Saying this, the one washing its face in mid-air was a small cat with gray fur. It was only about the size of a palm, yet it was a transcendent existence—the Great Spirit, Puck—who hid immense power within that small body.

She didn't want to believe it. But there was no longer any room for doubt. He was the very person who had enveloped the mansion in a white end and transformed it completely.

"Why would you do such a thing..."

"I told you, didn't I? All my actions are for Lia's sake. —I agreed to Lia leaving the forest because I thought it was what she wanted to do and for her safety. But there's no longer any value in this place. I wonder where we dropped it."

"————"

"Roswaal was a miscalculation on my part. He's just a pitiful, ordinary person."

Shaking his head, Puck spoke in an emotionless voice. At those words, Frederica choked up. Then immediately, she gnashed her sharp fangs and said,

"—As a maid, I will not permit you to insult the master of this house, the Margrave."

"You're a pitiful child, too. You were the only one desperate to protect this place that has already ended."

"Please stop using the past tense. It hasn't ended yet."

She spat back. Against a Great Spirit she had no hope of defeating. Faced with Frederica's defiance, the small cat narrowed his round eyes, showing pity. From his gestures to his expression, he was an existence that felt human to the core; Frederica leaned forward and said,

"Emilia-sama will grieve."

Hoping that those words would create a slight hesitation in the Great Spirit and a chance for Frederica to win. But, however—

"I'm sorry, but I'm incredibly soft on Lia. I'm a parent cat who can't let go of his child, you see."

Neither a fragment of hesitation nor a sliver of a chance appeared before that Great Spirit. Frederica bit her back teeth at the difference between the world she saw and the one they saw.

Whether that would turn into regret or lamentation, there wasn't even time for her emotions to change. A white wind simply blew, and with that alone, the woman named Frederica was frozen.

That was the beginning of the collapse of the Roswaal Mansion.

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By the time the demon noticed the signs of collapse, everything was already too late.

"————"

With a ghost-like gait, the demon walked through his own mansion. Beneath his shoe soles, clumps of chilled air crumbled with a sound, and a chilly wind tickled his neck. He shrugged his shoulders, and suddenly, he found it strange that he was having a physiological reaction to the chill.

Lately, he had left the choice of clothing and facial makeup entirely to Frederica. That brave, hardworking girl was striving to repay her debt even in this place where everything had become too late; his chest, which shouldn't have felt anything, ached slightly.

—Roswaal's long-held ambition had, at some point, quietly reached a dead end.

"Ram, Rem..."

The turning point was likely the loss of the demon sisters. The existence of those two was an essential key for Roswaal's plan to reach his ambition. When that slipped away, Roswaal realized he was all alone.

Four hundred years—when he realized that the path of prayer he had wished for so long had been cut off, Roswaal found himself unable to stand on his own feet.

"—Ram."

The name he muttered was the name that led to his greatest regret.

—Originally, he had considered the possibility of things turning out this way. In fact, he was aware that the odds were against his attempt, and the probability of this outcome was much higher. That was why Roswaal had taken out insurance on his own existence. He desired an existence that would gladly accept his end when it came.

The fact that this was lost before him was what threw Roswaal's final gear out of order.

"————"

That was why it was strange to Roswaal that he was now walking through the freezing mansion like this. He should have already lost the will to stand and the reason to walk.

"Margrave, please return to your old self. If you stay like that, those two will—"

Many times, Frederica had called out to Roswaal like that. Frederica had cared for Roswaal, whose spirit had withered and who was sunken in mental ennui, and she had devotedly worked to rouse her lethargic master with great patience.

That was why the strength to walk through the freezing mansion like this remained within him. That was why, on the path he walked aimlessly, his eyes were drawn to the scenery beyond the window. That was why he could see the world freezing white and the figure of the blonde girl trying to resist it.

"————"

He thought he had to protect her, I suppose. Or perhaps it was a reflexive action. There were enough remnants of his feelings that his body reflexively judged that he had to do so.

That was why Roswaal slowly raised his arm, intending to release a massive amount of mana—

"—!"

In an instant, Roswaal narrowly avoided a brilliant sword flash that surged toward his neck.

"—Oh, I didn't expect you to be able to dodge that. Could it be that the Head Court Magician-dono dabbles not just in magic, but in martial arts as well?"

A lighthearted voice was thrown at Roswaal from behind. It was the voice of a young man with deep blue hair who had slid his sandals across the frozen hallway at a speed that seemed to scorch it, and then turned back toward him.

"That movement just now wasn't something a bit player could do. I'm honestly impressed."

The person dressed in a blue kimono with sandals on his feet—a terribly out-of-place outfit—had two swords tucked into his waist. He had drawn one of them and was tapping his own shoulder with it. His features were well-formed, and a smile suited him well. His eyes, shining with innocence and mischief, were impressive, and his appearance with his long hair tied back gave others a somewhat androgynous impression. However, faced with the extraordinary, transparent sword-aura radiating from him—a demonic aura that made one envision their own death by being cut down a thousand or ten thousand times just by basking in it—no moderate impressions would come to mind.

"If you're someone more confident in your skills than your magic, it helps me not feel so heavy-hearted. After all, being too one-sided goes against my aesthetics. Well, I'll do it if I'm told, but I'd like to avoid being treated as the villain as much as possible."

"You talk quite a lot, just like the rumors say... don't you?"

"Eh! Rumors about me? No way, I'm embarrassed. Am I a celebrity even in a place like this? Hehehe, I hope they aren't strange rumors."

The young man scratched his head with a bashful smile, talking fluently and incessantly. Witnessing this, Roswaal ignited and roused his sluggish thoughts to unravel the situation that had befallen him. The sensation of burning heat that had erupted in his left arm played a part in that heat.

"————"

"By the way, if you don't treat that arm soon, won't you bleed to death?"

"I appreciate... the advice."

At the young man's point, Roswaal relaxed his bloodless lips. Roswaal's left arm had been severed so brilliantly at the bicep that it lay on the hallway like a doll's, almost lacking any sense of reality.

When he dodged the initial strike aimed at his neck, his arm had been taken. Told to treat it, Roswaal placed his hand over the wound and cauterized it shut with an instantaneous flame. A tremendous, piercing pain shot through his brain, but he endured it with only a slight hardening of his cheeks.

Watching that forceful first aid, the young man widened his eyes slightly.

"I thought magic users were more cowardly. Anya and her lot are that type... ah, by the way, Anya is an acquaintance of mine—"

"I know, Cecilus Segmunt-kun."

"————"

"You're the strongest warrior of the Vollachia Empire, the head of the 'Nine Divine Generals,' aren't you? The name 'Blue Lightning,' given to the First General, is famous even in Lugunica."

"It is truly an honor."

At Roswaal's low voice, the young man—Cecilus Segmunt—bowed elegantly. He made no attempt to hide his identity; in fact, he acted with a refreshing dignity, as if there were no reason to falsify his name in the first place. Watching that theatrical gesture, Roswaal let out a sigh.

"Even so, I wonder what this is all about. To think that the Vollachia Empire would commit such an outrage in violation of the treaty, especially at a time when the next successor to the throne of the Lugunica Kingdom is about to be decided."

"Ah, that's a misunderstanding. Right now, I'm on a break from being a Divine General, or rather, I'm unemployed. Anyway, I'm just an ordinary person with no connection to the Empire... a wandering strongest swordsman, so to speak."

"————"

"I'm not joking. The Empire has absolutely no involvement in my actions. Of course, my loyalty to His Excellency still resides in this chest... but I have my own reasons."

With exaggerated gestures, Cecilus emphasized his lack of connection with the Empire. It was difficult to believe him wholeheartedly, but it was true that it didn't make sense as the Empire's intention. Because of that, Roswaal narrowed his heterochromatic eyes and questioned Cecilus.

"If so, it's even more of a mystery. You came all the way here, even throwing away your position as the First General of the Empire. Just what is it that drove you this far?"

"It's simple. —I was promised a stepping stone on the path to the Heavenly Sword."

"Heavenly Sword."

At that resonance, Roswaal knitted his well-shaped brows. Seeing that, Cecilus nodded deeply with a "Yes." His expression remained a smile, but what was decisively different was the emotion dwelling in his eyes.

Joy, anger, sorrow, pleasure—with joy and pleasure, the 'Blue Lightning' cuts people down. However, what was in the eyes of Vollachia's strongest in this moment was not joy or pleasure, but something with a deeper color and heat, to put it plainly—

"It's an ambition I've never told a living soul. To have that guessed, and then to be told they could help me... I suppose I had no choice but to accept this as an opportunity."

"Surprising. You don't look like the type to become someone else's puppet."

"Isn't the difference between being manipulated by someone and accepting the stage prepared by fate just a matter of subjective perspective? I accept the script as the star, the leading actor of this world. On top of that, isn't it the actor's skill to add lines and performances not in the script?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Roswaal nodded at Cecilus's eyes, which had regained their emotion. I see—he was impressed by the strength of the core of his argument. That solid philosophy was something Cecilus had built up while accumulating victories. Bending that was something even Roswaal, who had lived for four hundred years of obsession, could not do. To Roswaal, who favored things remaining unchanged, his philosophy was even like nectar.

"I probably don't dislike you either. In fact, I like you. But this is also my role... Head Court Magician of the Lugunica Kingdom, Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers, I shall take your head."

As if it were his way of showing respect, Cecilus once sheathed the sword in his hand. Then, as he made the guard of his other sword click, the beautiful blade of the sword was exposed to the world. The beauty of that sword was truly demonic; it was a magic sword hiding extraordinary power—

"—The First Sword, 'Dream Sword' Masayume."

"One of the magic swords that erodes the soul of its owner. —Cecilus-kun, may I ask one thing?"

Faced with the overflowing demonic aura, Roswaal raised a finger in a casual manner. With one arm, the smell of blood, and a peerless swordsman of all time in front of him in the freezing air, Cecilus also tilted his head in a misplaced, lighthearted manner at the question.

"What is it? My weakness? If it's my weakness, it's that I don't listen to people and that I'm still restless even after turning twenty. It was often a topic of debate in the Imperial Council."

"What is the name... of your employer?"

Asked that, Cecilus raised his eyebrows slightly. Then he took a low stance with his sword and pulled back his rear leg. Slowly, he leaned his upper body forward.

"Some gossips call him a villain, a heretic, and whisper about him as the 'Purge King' because of his methods... but I was told to tell you his correct name."

With that preface, Cecilus moistened his lips with his tongue. Then, after plenty of suspense, he spoke.

"————"

The moment the name became a power word and reached his eardrums, the floor of the mansion exploded, and Cecilus vanished. He was so fast it felt as if he had disappeared from the world. In this moment, the 'Blue Lightning' approached lightning, fitting for that alias.

Therefore, the crossing was instantaneous. However, in that split second, Roswaal slightly parted his lips and whispered.

"As I thought, it was you."

Before those words could truly give sound to the world, the trajectory of the 'Dream Sword' was faster. But before everything vanished into the distance, Roswaal's consciousness thought.

Of the safety of the girls who were in the mansion. Of the girls who were caught up in his ambition and, in the end, for whom he could leave no happiness.

—I have neither the right nor the time to apologize, he thought, and with that final thought, everything vanished.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

The mechanism of 'Door Crossing' itself is a simple one that connects the door of the Forbidden Library to another door.

Because of that simple effect, the versatility of 'Door Crossing' is high, and she took pride in it being an excellent magic. However, as with all magic, 'Door Crossing' was not omnipotent. If the mechanism was revealed, its usefulness could also become a weakness. That was why the existence of the Forbidden Library and the effect of 'Door Crossing' had to be kept secret from outsiders. Yes, it must not be known to outsiders.

—Therefore, I suppose this was inevitable.

"How ironic."

The moment she touched the door of the Forbidden Library, Beatrice understood that she was being lured. Despite the existence of countless doors within the vast mansion as options, Beatrice had no choice and was guided to the front of a single door. The method was also simple. —It was enough if the other doors were in a state where they could not be opened.

The way to seal 'Door Crossing' was to take away the options of doors to connect to. That was executed steadily, and the place where the doors in the mansion would open was limited to one. And she also half-understood that the existence who lent his strength to realize that method was her precious brother. It's a natural story for the scales to tilt. That is the unwritten law of their existence—

It would be misplaced to resent her brother for that. Therefore, Beatrice held no words of resentment toward her brother and simply opened the door to face it quietly.

"—Yo, Beatrice."

Beyond the opened door, he called Beatrice familiarly and raised his hand. She remembered that voice and attitude. That was exactly why Beatrice's body trembled with dread.

The face in her memory and the face before her did not match in the details at all. Even if it was correct as a rough reproduction of her memory, he was already in a state like a different person.

"What kind of eyes do you have?"

Faced with that dark, dark gaze, Beatrice shook her head. Rejection and denial—it had changed so much that she wanted to add a sense of revulsion.

While his rare black hair and black eyes remained, his hair had lost its luster, and his eyes shone dully with pitch-black emotions. Dark circles as deep as shadows appeared around his eyes, and his face was gaunt with sunken cheeks; the color of his fingers, which were slightly visible, was as pale as a corpse's. Wrapped in a black longcoat, his skin exposure was minimal—amidst the outfit unified in black, what stood out was his orange scarf. That alone ghastly betrayed his gloomy impression.

Some years had passed since then. But even so, this change was excessive. Can a human change this much?

"You seem to have changed your atmosphere quite a bit, I suppose."

"You haven't changed, though. Did you drop your growth period somewhere? Normally, after two years, you'd look a bit more grown-up."

A raspy voice responded to Beatrice's words with a quip. Two years, was it? If the person himself said so, then the passing time must have been about that much. Two years was a sensation as short as a blink to Beatrice. Just how meaningful those years had been for a human, especially for the human before her.

—Had they been meaningful enough for a man who was as good as dead to return for revenge like this?

"Do you remember, Beatrice? We ate a meal together here."

"—I have no such memory. I shouldn't have ever had a meal with you, I suppose."

At the words of the human she faced, Beatrice knitted her brows. The two of them were facing each other in the dining room on the first floor of the mansion. Seated in the middle chair of the table covered with a white cloth, the human threw a question at Beatrice that made no sense. At Beatrice's reply, the other person traced the dark circles under his eyes with a finger and—

"...Ah, that's right. You don't know that. Yeah, that was my bad just now. It's always me who's bad. It's always me."

"What happened... No, it's no use asking such things anymore, I suppose."

For a moment, hesitation crossed Beatrice's heart. But the girl killed it with a blink and immediately sealed away the unnecessary options along with a warning. Then, she pointed her small palm toward the suspicious human. There resided her pride as the librarian protecting the Forbidden Library—or perhaps, a fleeting sense of mission in martyring herself to a role desired by no one.

"It might be your legitimate right to think you want revenge, I suppose. Even so, Betty has Betty's role. For that purpose..."

"————"

Beatrice stared him down, intending to stick to her role and stop his outrage. Seeing that, his expression stiffened slightly. It also looked as if he were trying to endure some unbearable emotion, and Beatrice tried to step into that gap—

"Give me a break, Beatrice. —Didn't you contract to protect me?"

—In that moment, the one who caused the fatal stagnation was Beatrice.

"...Ah."

At the resonance of "contract," Beatrice's entire body was pierced by a shock and froze. And that freezing was fixed without being undone, regardless of Beatrice's will. It wasn't caused by something mental. She was physically sealed from moving. That was—

"Forgive me. You won't be able to move with this anymore."

Beside Beatrice, a person had appeared as if welling up from the shadows. It was a beastman who wore a black kimono sloppily and held a golden pipe in his mouth lined with sharp fangs—a tall man with a wolf's face. He looked down at Beatrice, who was about as high as his waist, with eyes as thin as threads. She couldn't find any emotion in those hard-to-see eyes, and Beatrice's throat made a thin sound.

"This... is..."

"It's like a mysterious shinobi technique that binds shadows. You can think of it as ninjutsu. Don't worry, I won't keep it on for that long. ...Because you are my benefactor."

Beatrice, who was frozen and robbed of her freedom of movement, had no choice but to listen to that voice. There was no tremor in the words spoken to her, and there was no error in the shared memories. Slowly standing up from his seat and walking toward her, his eyes were dark, but there was no color of unrest.

Beatrice had decided that revenge was the reason he had visited this place. However, that human's gaze no longer seemed like that of a vengeful person to Beatrice. Because she had found something in those black eyes filled with dark light that made her want to claw at her chest.

"Thanks to you letting me escape back then, I am who I am today. I've always wanted to tell you that."

"If this is your way of doing it... you are a troublesome man, I suppose. ...Truly, troublesome."

"My bad. But I realized it, Beatrice."

Interrupting Beatrice's words as she gnashed her teeth, he slowly shook his head. His lips drew the shape of a smile, and he looked down at Beatrice softly. Come to think of it, did she remember seeing him smile like this? During those hours she had allowed him to spend in the Forbidden Library.

As Beatrice reminisced, he reached out his hand and spoke.

"—That you and I are the same thing."

"————"

The corners of his eyes lowered, and only in this moment did his eyes return to the very first, truly first boy. Returning to the him before he went crazy during those few days at the mansion.

"Back then, when I had given up and thought I had no choice but to die, yet couldn't throw it all away, you saved me. Even now, I remember that sunset over and over again."

"You..."

"I'm grateful, Beatrice. ...Why didn't you kill me back then?"

"—!"

Was that truly gratitude, or was it a word of resentment? In any case, Beatrice could only stare wide-eyed at the words spoken with a face that looked like it was laughing and crying at the same time.

And so, she accepted the influence of what she had done, the despair that had eroded his heart. Naturally, the lack of freedom in her frozen body was undone, and her outstretched arm fell limp. However, with her regained freedom, the will to resist was already nowhere to be found. She could accept quite easily that karma had come around.

"Beatrice, I'm grateful to you. I think I probably liked you. I think you were the only one who truly stayed by my side during that time."

"...The worst confession, I suppose."

"No doubt about it."

Beatrice responded to his words with an empty state of mind. And in his black eyes as he smiled thinly, Beatrice saw the truth. —She realized that the dark emotion dwelling there was something very familiar.

It was the abominable lesion that nested in the hearts of many and eventually devoured hope.

—The disease called despair was nesting within him, and within herself.

"Halibel, a kunai."

At that call, the beastman standing beside Beatrice raised his eyebrows. The beastman, who had been silent and observing the exchange between the two, shook the pipe in his mouth up and down and—

"...Is it okay?"

"A kunai."

Ordered again, the beastman swung his left arm vertically. Immediately after, a mass of black steel struck the floor of the dining room with a sound. He crouched down and pulled out the kunai that had stuck at his feet, checking its weight, which looked quite heavy, with his palm. The dull-shining black iron was shaped to reap lives.

"I was happy you remembered the contract."

She didn't not think that he had used it despite that. But it was in a voice that truly seemed to look fleetingly at a distant joy. She just couldn't bring herself to reproach him.

"You have proper color, and you're beautiful..."

"————"

Beatrice's eyes simply widened, and large tears began to well up. In her blurred vision was his figure looking at her calmly. She blinked, and a tear traced her cheek. She wished to shed tears and watch his figure until the very end.

She was told that he and she were the same thing. If so, the one there was surely her current self.

What she did back then might have greatly distorted his life. If that had come back to her like this after coming full circle. If he was trying to save Beatrice now—

"Y-you..."

"————"

Trembling her numb, frozen tongue, Beatrice spun words. The power word, raspy like a breath, slightly stopped the movement of the one standing right before her. He was giving her time. She could see his resolve to accept whatever she said, even if it was words of resentment. To that resolve, Beatrice—

"—Are you Betty's 'That Person'?"

He surely didn't understand the meaning of that question. Beatrice didn't even expect there to be an answer.

She just felt that if this was coming to her at the very, very end, she had to ask.

"Yeah."

—That was why Beatrice's heart shattered at the sight of him smiling and nodding.

There was affection in his smile, kindness in his words, and a blessing in the blade he raised.

"I am your 'That Person'."

A particularly large teardrop traced down the girl's reddened cheek.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

"In my hometown, there's a saying: 'A drowning man will clutch at a straw'."

While staring at the red carpet spread on the floor, the man was listening to that voice.

The distance between the carpet and the man's face was close. Speaking of closeness, the interval of the man's breathing was also close. His heart continued to beat like a fire bell, and his breath was panting as if he had just run across a field at full speed.

The man was an elderly person approaching sixty. His son, and even his grandson, had reached adulthood, and he took pride in having carved the rings of his life accordingly. Due to his position, he had to exchange words and compete with many people. His battle record was respectable enough to be proud of, and he had confidence in his eye for people.

He didn't intend to boast of being unparalleled, but he believed he was blessed with more talent than average and had pushed forward to enrich his life. That was why the man was unable to understand whether his current situation was a dream or an illusion.

—The situation where he was made to kneel before an opponent about the same age as his grandson.

"Do you know what a straw is? I think there are straws here too... well, it's like wheat or something like that. And because a drowning person is so desperate, they'll clutch at it even though there's no way it'll save them."

"————"

"To put it simply, it's a maxim about how a person on the verge of death is desperate to live. It's different from 'Hedgehog's strength' (superhuman strength in a crisis). That one has a chance for a reversal, but a straw is just a futile struggle."

The voice from above threw words at him fluently. Most of it sounded like useless talk, but he couldn't afford to miss a single word. There were mountains of gruesome rumors about what happened to those who displeased him.

In the two years since he rose to power, the cruel and grim rumors had never ceased. The representative of the organization 'Pleiades,' who cornered enemies, their families, and associates by any means, made examples of them, and continued to expand with the force of a breaking bamboo. Evaluating his gruesome achievements and exceptionally wicked methods, people called the man who did not name himself:

—The 'Purge King.'

"————"

The place where the man knelt was the headquarters of the organization that had at some point begun to lurk in the shadows of the four great nations and rule the underworld. It was a reception room where he had been invited as a business partner in a building filled with an almost vulgar collection of magnificent furnishings, paintings, and luxurious items.

The King, who was the representative, sat on the throne at the back of the room—truly, a supreme throne worthy of being called a treasure—looking down at the visitor. The gorgeous appearance and luxurious construction made his eyes swim when he thought of the amount of money spent on it. It felt as if the violence of assets, which could never be reached by a thousand or two thousand human lives, was being struck against his eyeballs.

Even someone with poor intuition could understand at a glance that this was a display of the organization's—no, the King's—power. Even if there were someone who couldn't understand, once they entered this room, they would likely never see the light of the outside world again.

The display of power, namely the proof of financial strength, was not limited to objects. The dozen or so men lined up against the wall were all well-known warriors and mercenaries. Even if it were possible to make them obey with money, how much would it cost to execute that? If there were a dozen of them, a vast amount of money would be needed just to maintain them.

Among those who moved for money, he thought the highest peaks were gathered, but the abnormality of the existences guarding the left and right of the throne was enough to make the kneeling man feel a sense of intoxication.

—The transcendent beings beyond the norm, the 'Praiser' Halibel and the 'Blue Lightning' Cecilus Segmunt.

The Kararagi City-States and the Sacred Empire of Vollachia. Two warriors who reigned supreme in their respective countries stood by his side. There was no better reason for the outrages of this young brat who led this suddenly appeared organization to be permitted.

"Sigurm-san?"

"————"

For a moment, his mind went blank, and when his name was called, the heart of the man—Sigurm—froze. Looking up, the Purge King, resting his cheek on his hand on the armrest, was pointing his dark black eyes toward Sigurm with an expression from which his smile had vanished.

Sigurm panted, feeling as if his heart were truly being grabbed. He had to make some excuse, and his lips trembled in search of oxygen. However, at Sigurm's pitiful reaction, the Purge King shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah—sorry for boring you. Getting sidetracked is a bad habit of mine. Since long ago, I haven't been able to get to the main point unless it's in a roundabout way."

"N-no... that is... I..."

"I'm talking."

"————"

Placing the finger of his right hand on his own lips, the King's left hand pointed at the man. His excuse was interrupted by the quiet point, and a cold sweat drenched the man's back. Just like that, a bone-chilling silence lasted for a dozen seconds, a time that felt like an eternity, and—

"...Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just, look, these two and the people around me follow me because I hire them, but you're not like that, right? So, how should I put it... I wanted some peace of mind, sorry."

"————"

He used polite language, and his tone was quiet, which only made his abnormality stand out. The Purge King was polite, showed respect to the person he faced, and then exercised violence without hesitation. The King's tone and the words he used to speak couldn't help but sound to the listener as if they harbored completely different intentions. The eyes of the young man, who looked timid and lacked confidence, were narrowed as if to see through his inner thoughts, and his every nerve was observing the other's every move. The question his dark black eyes were asking was just one question.

—Are you my ally, or my enemy?

"————"

Of course, he should claim he wasn't an enemy. However, Sigurm's words were sealed, and he was forbidden from returning an answer with his voice.

If he spoke, if he responded with his eyes, if he showed it with his attitude, would he lose his temper? Such fear ensnared the old man's heart, making the longest dozen seconds of his life feel like an eternity.

None of those who had laughed this off as an exaggeration had survived. The organization's way of being was fierce; his hands reached into the heart of the underworld in the four great nations, and it had become a lesion that could no longer be peeled off.

To survive, there was no choice but to not contract that disease and to overcome it. And the method to overcome it was nothing but total surrender in the name of submission.

An incurable disease one must not get involved with—finally unable to escape it, the old man had come here. He had prepared all the answers in advance and come with the resolve to submit.

But Sigurm finally understood in this place that even that thought was naive. Like being thrown into water with his hands and feet tied, unable to move, his breathing became difficult, and his lips panted for oxygen. On land, in a room, he was being made to drown in a gaze.

"————"

It wasn't a disease. This was a curse.

The Purge King was ruled by an unerasable curse. A pathological fear clouded his eyes, and an unerasable paranoia was eroding his heart.

He was afraid of humans. He feared, doubted, and hated others. Because he himself harbored the strongest fear, he was desperate to see if the same thing was eroding others, and he infected others with the same disease.

A drowning man, the King had said at first. It was exactly as he said. If it would save him now, Sigurm would try to clutch at a straw or anything else.

"And so... yes, the story about the straw. About being desperate to live... yeah, so I understand. The fact that Sigurm-san came to talk to us like this is the result of trying to follow proper procedure."

"————"

"I like people who follow procedure. A person who wants to talk is much more trustworthy than someone who suddenly attacks. I don't know how many bad rumors you've heard about us, but please don't judge me by rumors. ...I want to avoid making waves as much as possible."

While talking, the Purge King opened his left hand toward him. Then, he showed a gesture of gently reaching out his hand as if to show he was yielding the turn to speak.

"Ah."

Suddenly, as if his freezing was undone, a raspy breath leaked from Sigurm's lips. For a moment, he was terrified that it might get on the King's nerves, but the young man before him didn't react. It seemed that patient silence had somehow guided Sigurm back to the world.

"Sigurm-san?"

"N-no... my apologies. The offer is as stated in the letter I sent. I hope to maintain a long-lasting relationship with everyone in the organization."

Choosing his words carefully, without being excessively humble, Sigurm stated his position. Receiving that, the Purge King narrowed his eyes, and after thinking for a while, he smiled.

"————"

Sigurm was surprised that the expression with that smile suddenly looked like that of someone his age. Then, to the surprised Sigurm, the King nodded deeply and—

"Let's have a good relationship, Sigurm-san. Please discuss the details with the person in charge later. This is the wisest choice."

"Ah..."

"I look forward to working with you."

Raising his hand and still smiling, the Purge King concluded the business talk. At those words, Sigurm slowly lifted his body. His kneeling body was stiff, and he almost lost his balance, but he managed to endure and let out a long breath.

"Thank you very much. I look forward to your continued favor as well."

"Mm."

He managed to hide the numbness of his tongue and finished his final greeting. Then, Sigurm bowed to the Purge King, who nodded as if his business were done, and stepped back.

"————"

What blew through his heart was a storm of relief and achievement. The leaden tension that had tightly bound his whole body until just a few seconds ago thinned, and the man nodded, thinking of the faces and names of his family waiting for his return one by one with naturally lightened steps.

He had weathered the rough seas and somehow connected his hopes—

"—?"

It was then. Behind him, there was a very faint, light sound.

Familiar to his ears, it was the sound of a coin. It was very similar to the sound of a coin slipping from a palm and falling onto the floor.

"Back."

A single, short word was heard. Before Sigurm could understand what it was—

"————"

The old man's vision tilted and became parallel to the floor. The carpet was closer than when he had knelt. —And that was the end.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

"————"

Halibel watched with narrowed eyes as the remains of the man whose head had been severed fell.

It was a brilliant skill. There were no convulsions in the old man's limbs, and the head that fell onto the carpet had not realized its own death. It was a work of art-like remains because it met no conditions for being a corpse other than the deprivation of life. However, a corpse was just a corpse, and he didn't have the hobby of evaluating it as beautiful.

"O-ugh... blegh..."

Seeing blood erupt from that corpse, the boy sitting on the throne covered his mouth. He must have seen corpses and people turning into corpses many times already, but his nerves remained thin and never got used to it.

"Isn't it a bit of a desecration of the dead to do that after ordering it? I won't tell you to get used to corpses, but how about making an effort to avoid making them?"

"I don't... I don't kill them because I like it. Even if I can't look at them directly, I'm present at the scene. That's at least..."

"It's a deception."

His colleague's words were merciless toward the employer who held a handkerchief to his mouth and fought against nausea. Of course, the one who was correct in this place was his colleague—Cecilus. The fact that the employer didn't get angry at that was proof that he was aware his actions were a deception.

Then, to the boy who had made his pale complexion even closer to a corpse's, Cecilus continued his words. His gaze was directed toward the fallen remains, the pitiful old man.

"Even so, I'm more than a little amazed by the Boss's contradictions. To order me to kill him so suddenly after ending the talk so peacefully—even His Excellency would be surprised by such a change of heart."

Saying this, Cecilus puffed out his cheeks in dissatisfaction. It wasn't a gesture a man in his twenties should make, but combined with his mental immaturity, that kind of gesture suited Cecilus quite well. It was likely because he was physically handsome and his usual behavior made it permissible.

Anyway, at Cecilus's words that bordered on verbal abuse, even the boy distorted his cheeks and—

"That's why I'm telling you, I didn't want to kill him either. Just like I told him, I wanted to believe him if possible. He didn't look like he had the face of a liar."

"Then, why?"

"Because even if someone doesn't look like a liar, liars lie."

To Cecilus, who looked puzzled, the boy sitting on the throne with his knees up bit his lip. In that parched view of life alone, a strong will that no one could shake was glimpsed.

Neither Halibel nor Cecilus knew what had happened in his past. However, there must have been an event in his past that made him believe that.

An experience where a person who smiled and treated him familiarly actually harbored calculations and doubts in their chest, and spat out hatred and murderous intent with the same fingers and lips that had been kind to him. Such an experience had taught this boy.

"I'll nip the buds first. I'll cut off the branches. I will never, ever be deceived again."

Tightly, the boy grabbed his own shoulder and dug his nails into his skin through the cloth. Looking at the merciless digging of his nails, it was clear that the skin had broken and blood was oozing out. Because the confidants who knew him and the subordinates who had managed to stay with him for a long time knew that self-harm was a necessary ritual to keep himself together, no one stopped him.

Eventually satisfied with the pain, the boy slowly stood up from the throne and—

"Clean up the corpse and bury it. Also, send a messenger to that man's shop. Confiscate everything, but tell them I won't treat them badly if they obey. If they resist, kill all the family members and burn the shop. Once the takeover is done, have the next person in charge come to give their greetings. Then, I'll decide whether to keep it or crush it."

In a flat tone, the boy gave instructions so that the people in the room could hear. It was a broad instruction for "someone" to do it, not directed at anyone in particular. That call for results rather than the process actually made the organization run well. By having everyone focus on the results rather than individual credit, the organization maintained a perfect system.

Everyone had a reason to do so and a weakness that forced them to. And because everyone thought it was better to give their all than to risk losing everything as a result of someone being opportunistic, everyone put their full effort into the task. —In a way, it was an ideal work environment.

—For example, family; for example, a lover; for example, property; for example, life and various other things.

Holding those as insurance and continuing to hold safety measures was the principle of the boy who was the representative of the organization. It was the way of fighting for the cowardly boy who was feared as the Purge King.

"Boss, you've forgotten your coat."

"Ah, thank you."

As the boy stood up and tried to head for the door, Halibel softly placed a black coat on his shoulders. Just draping it over his shoulders. Adding a word of thanks. —Immediately after, Halibel's whiskers twitched as they caught a faint murderous intent. At the intense intent, Halibel lowered his eyes behind his thin lids.

The source of the murderous intent was, without even thinking, the boy before him. Likely because he had stood behind him.

"...Halibel-san, I don't want to kill you."

"Hahaha, then you just shouldn't kill me. It's fine if you use me well."

"But isn't it the worst to ruin yourself by having a tool you can't handle? ...Dying because of 'playing around' (underestimating an opponent) is a crappy way to lose."

Muttering to himself, the boy put his arms through the sleeves of his coat while thinking of how to kill the confidant right behind him. He listened to those complaining words in a lighthearted tone, but the boy's words were not a joke. He would try to kill Halibel if possible. Right now, it was simply that he was leaning toward not killing him after comparing the trouble of killing him and the insufficiency of preparations to kill him with the trouble and insufficiency of preparations after killing him.

"Boss, Boss. Where should I take the tribute this person brought?"

"Tribute... what was inside?"

"Inside... ah, magic stones. I wonder where he heard about the Boss's tastes. To be beheaded despite showing such consideration, this person is more and more pitiful."

"It was your own decision to take his head, Cecilus-san..."

At the entrance of the room, the boy who was stopped distorted his cheeks hatefully. Then, he sighed at Cecilus's nonchalant attitude and—

"Please take the magic stones to my room. As for the other things, do as you like."

"Yes, yes, certainly. Also, Boss."

"...What is it?"

To the boy who let out a displeased voice, Cecilus traced his own eyes with a finger and—

"The dark circles are quite bad. Isn't it about time you went to the Princess's place for a nap?"

At Cecilus's suggestion, the boy clicked his tongue loudly. Cecilus laughed it off, but the other men around him stiffened with tension. Perhaps he would order the subjugation of Cecilus here because of his displeasure. Of course, if that happened, killing Cecilus would be no ordinary feat. It would be a matter of using up all the combat power of this building and Halibel aiming for a mutual kill.

"—I'll think about it."

Fortunately, the boy didn't lose his temper and left with just those words before turning his back. And so, in the room where a sense of relief spread, the men watched the back of the departing representative. The lightheartedness of Cecilus, who waved his hand alone, was also a source of worry for Halibel.

"I'm not that good at group activities either..."

Shaking the pipe he held up and down, Halibel followed the back of the boy who went ahead. As the confidant with the longest relationship, Halibel's role was something like a bodyguard. Anyway, whether inside the headquarters or outside, there were very few people who would harm him.

The former was out of fear, and the latter was because many didn't know of his existence.

"————"

Halibel watched the boy, who carefully appraised everything, with his thin eyes. In the building he made his headquarters, various works of art and paintings were displayed in places other than the reception room, showing off that violent financial power and maintaining a stance of pure defense. Showing authority through financial power and displaying strength was a desperate measure to avoid making unnecessary enemies.

He had said he would win without fighting, and it could be called an ideal.

Of course, excessive financial power became the target of others' envy and jealousy. Ultimately, no matter what he did, enemies would increase. The boy's method was a good plan in terms of reducing the absolute number. And if the number of enemies became small, he only had to counter them with the quality of violence.

"Halibel-san... please watch Cecilus-san appropriately so he doesn't explode."

"Yes, yes, leave it to me. Is the Boss going to the Princess's place?"

"Mm."

Whether it was humiliating to accept Cecilus's suggestion, the boy answered with distorted cheeks. Just like that, the two of them reached the very back of the organization's headquarters—the room most strictly guarded in the building named 'Pandemonium.'

—That door was covered with such a large number of keys and padlocks that anyone who saw it would shudder.

The amount of keys, approaching fifty, vividly impressed the importance of what was hidden behind this door and the thoroughness, persistence, and obsessive nature of the person who prepared the keys. But the most obsessive thing about the owner of this door was that not a single key corresponding to the keyholes existed in this world. In other words, this door could never be opened by normal methods. To open it—

"—Puck."

"You called, and here I am, nya-nya-nya-nyan!"

Receiving the boy's call, a small cat with gray fur appeared in mid-air along with a silly voice and an excessive light show. Despite his playful attitude and adorable appearance, he was a Great Spirit—Puck—who hid immense power, and he landed softly on the boy's shoulder.

"Ya, it's been a while. Do you have business with Lia?"

"Open the door."

"Mumumu, what's with that way of speaking? If you upset Papa, I might not let you see my daughter. Try to be a bit more sympathetic to the feelings of a father with a daughter of that age..."

"Puck."

The boy called Puck, who was making a gesture of stroking his Kaiser mustache on his shoulder. Looking at the boy's face covered in deep dark circles, Puck let out a sigh of "Good grief."

"You held back until the very last minute again, didn't you? It can't be helped. I'll do it in light of that effort."

Saying this, Puck, who had made a big deal out of it, pointed both his short arms toward the door. Then, a faint light poured into the countless keyless keyholes and—

"Click-clack."

Immediately after, the faint light turned into ice keys, and they played the sound of release deep within the keyholes. The way to open a door that couldn't be opened—a trick of creating keys that didn't exist.

"It's a clever way to hit a blind spot. If there's a keyhole, it's human nature to want to look for a key that fits it. It would be a problem if someone imitated it and opened it, though."

"There's also the mana wavelength. If anyone other than me does the same thing, a report will immediately go to me or you guys. Besides, I'm always with Lia."

"That's true too."

Halibel nodded in agreement with Puck's words. Ignoring their exchange, the boy placed his hand on the unlocked door and stopped. Looking back at Halibel, who was standing there as if nothing had happened, he said,

"Halibel-san, you can go."

"Really? I'd like to greet the Princess once in a while too..."

"You can go."

The casual offer was rejected by a flat tone. Halibel also clearly took that as an absolute rejection. Thinking it wasn't something to persist in, Halibel bit his pipe and stepped back.

"If anything happens, feel free to call me."

"————"

With his hand on the door, Halibel turned his back on the boy who was directing a wary gaze. Until he turned the corner and was no longer visible, the boy's gaze was piercing his back.

An employer and benefactor who was wary to the core, more cowardly than cautious.

"Even if I say that, he'll never call me."

With such a listless mutter, Halibel blew out purple smoke and looked up at the ceiling. The smoke hit the ceiling, had nowhere to go, and dispersed.

—Somehow, that felt like an omen for their future.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

The boy's sleeping face was so quiet that she thought he might have died.

"————"

Emilia watched the boy as he fell into a deep sleep on her lap, as if falling into the abyss of death. Around his eyelids were dark circles so deep they looked as if charcoal had been smeared on them, telling of the boy's severe lack of sleep and the harsh environment he was forced into.

"He hasn't been able to sleep for a long time again."

"It can't be helped. With this child's current position, he probably has no time for his mind to rest. It's probably only when he comes to be spoiled by Lia once in a while."

Stroking his forehead and tracing his eyelashes with a finger, Puck, who was floating in mid-air, let out a sigh while wrapping his long tail around his stomach as Emilia freely observed his sleeping face. Just like that, he looked around Emilia's 'private room.'

It was a white room. White walls, a white floor. A white ceiling and a white bed, white furniture and white curtains—everything in the room was unified in white. In such a room, the thin nightgown Emilia wore was also white, so it was almost pathological.

This room was the extent of the freedom given to Emilia. —Inside a caged bird's cage. Emilia herself was still unsure whether it was okay to use a word like "imprisonment."

"Does Lia still feel angry at this child?"

"...I wonder."

Emilia hesitated to answer Puck's question. It wasn't that it was hard to say. It was just that she didn't quite understand where her heart resided.

Of course, she was angry at first, and even now, they haven't made up. They haven't even set aside time to apologize and be apologized to. Without touching on that, time simply passed, and a lukewarm daily life just continued.

"But I'm angry at Puck. Taking me out and even preparing to take me away without telling me."

"I'm sorry. But it couldn't be helped. I couldn't leave Lia with Roswaal in that state, could I? It's irresponsible of him to drag you into such a dangerous place and position and then end up like that himself. In that regard, this place is top-notch for Lia's safety."

"————"

"The thought of not wanting to put Lia in danger is the same for me and this child."

That was why Puck had agreed to the secret offer to take Emilia away from the Roswaal Mansion, executed her withdrawal from the Royal Selection without hesitation, and spared no cooperation with the organization. And only Emilia knew nothing, and before she knew it, she was a caged bird in this white room—

However, Emilia also understood that she had no right to blame Puck's judgment.

"In the end, I couldn't do anything..."

In the Royal Selection—the battle to decide the next king of the Lugunica Kingdom—Emilia suffered a miserable defeat, and moreover, she had to accept a loss by default. The biggest reason for that was her refusal to participate in the meeting where the Royal Selection candidates were gathered, and as a result, she was not permitted to participate in the selection. That also meant the downfall of Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers, who was Emilia's backer, and his own breakdown.

To put it simply, Emilia was unable to express her intention to participate in the Royal Selection, and her backer, Roswaal, lost his qualification; the Emilia camp collapsed before it could even function as a camp. As a result, Emilia had the rug pulled out from under her and was forced to lose by default without being able to do anything.

"...My wish was..."

It was to create a world without discrimination. Being a half-elf, or the circumstances of one's birth, should not be the absolute evaluation of one's subsequent life; building such an environment should have been Emilia's wish, however clumsy. But that wish vanished into the distance of a dream before she could even voice it.

And beyond that wish, she was also unable to liberate her hometown—to save her comrades who had turned into ice statues and continued to sleep in the Elior Forest.

"If you were just going to stay in a mansion with no protection, it would have been better to return to the forest, but Lia was unable to do even that. Honestly, I was surprised when the secret messenger first contacted me."

"...I was very, very surprised. Because..."

Because Emilia had thought the boy who reunited with her here had died.

—The event that decided the fate of her non-participation in the Royal Selection was the death of a young maid at the mansion. The first victim of the incident triggered by the mabeasts was the girl, Rem. The one suspected of involvement in her death was the boy, an outsider who happened to be staying at the mansion. The boy, unable to bear the suspicion, fled. Ram, Rem's older sister, also ran out of the mansion chasing after him—and never returned.

The collapse likely began from there. It was only after the damage had spread to the nearby village and irreparable blunders had piled up that it was discovered the cause of Rem's death was a mabeast's curse.

Following the mabeast incident, Roswaal fell from power without being able to seize an opportunity for a comeback. Emilia was also unable to declare her participation in the Royal Selection and suffered the humiliation of a loss by default, and the mansion steadily, surely approached a collapse that no one desired, day by day.

It was at such a time. It was when the boy, who should have been gone, came to pick up Emilia, who was crushed by a sense of helplessness that she couldn't change anything and was living through slow, repetitive days.

"————"

It was as she had answered Puck. Emilia felt anger toward the boy. He didn't consider her circumstances, gave no explanation, and in the first place, said nothing when he left or when he returned, and suddenly took her away like this.

He might have been the trigger for the world around Emilia beginning to crumble. And yet—

"Like that..."

To the reunited Emilia, the boy, with a weak face, a face exhausted by anxiety and fear, a face much worse than now, clung to her, wailed, and sought salvation. And seeing the boy wailing like a child, Emilia forgot to be angry.

Perhaps she was soft. Perhaps she was cheap. Even so, Emilia didn't feel her own way of being was noble enough to scold the boy who wailed like a child and finally showed a sleeping face like a baby.

And so, the boy only visited Emilia when he came to seek salvation. He would come to Emilia and never speak a word of what he had done outside the room, but simply tell her of his painful feelings haltingly and entrust his life to Emilia's lap.

Whether to accept that as receiving absolute trust or as the humiliation of being looked down upon, it was up to Emilia, and she had not been able to give either answer.

"Surely, this is very, very unhealthy..."

Even Emilia, who was ignorant of the world, knew that this was not a normal state. However, Emilia had no other way to prove her own existence than to accept the boy clinging to her and continue to watch him as he sank into a moment of peace.

"————"

The frequency of the boy visiting Emilia was once every ten days. During the other times, he was surely begrudging even the time to sleep and continued to struggle desperately.

They didn't exchange many words. But just like this, the boy who visited her, the meeting once every ten days, Emilia...

"...I think I was looking forward to it," Emilia realized.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

—If the flipped gold coin shows tails, he kills anyone, just like that.

Frederica could not hide her revulsion at such an abnormal way of being for her master. Cleaning up the headless corpse that had fallen in the reception room, Frederica replaced the stained carpet and then prepared meals for the mercenaries inside 'Pandemonium.'

"Throwing the fate of others to literal luck... do you intend to have become a god?"

Receiving the conclusion of how the corpse became a corpse, Frederica gnashed her sharp fangs, which were the cause of her own inferiority complex, and suppressed her heart trembling with rage.

She had heard that Frederica Baumann was hired by the organization because Emilia, who was rumored to be the mistress of the 'Purge King,' the representative of the organization, had pleaded strongly.

On that day, when the mansion was filled with freezing cold air and she was certain that her life had been taken by the Great Spirit who had betrayed them, Frederica woke up here for some reason. Since then, she had been in a position where a collar was put on her and she was used as a maid to serve the person she hated.

Just how much of a blunder did she have to commit to be subjected to such an unreasonable fate?

"—Margrave, excuse me."

It was a rule that Frederica directly carried the meals to the master's room. It was entrusted to no one but Frederica, and the representative would not eat anything other than the meals Frederica made. She had no intention of considering that an honor. In the first place, taste or trust was not the reason it was entrusted to Frederica. It was simply that there was a certainty that Frederica would not do anything foolish.

"Enter."

The sound of many keys being unlocked and a blunt command permitted Frederica to enter the room. Following the instructions, Frederica stepped into the master's room along with the cart carrying the meal.

The master's room, in contrast to the luxurious interior and decorations of the building, was a very simple room except for its size, or in other words, a boring room lacking human touch. In the four corners of the room, a large number of books—books gathered haphazardly regardless of the field—were stuffed in randomly, making it an unbearable space for the methodical Frederica. Even so, the master strongly disliked her offering to clean the room.

He was likely wary of something being planted in the room. Knowing that such a thing couldn't be done, yet still being wary of it, was an expression of cowardice rather than caution—a terribly contemptible and ugly sight.

"Margrave, should I handle these fallen documents as usual?"

"...Mm. Ah, please. Just show them to someone who looks like they'd understand."

Saying this, the master pointed with a gesture as if he were uninterested at several pieces of writing scribbled in messy handwriting scattered on the floor of the room. At first glance, they were pieces of paper that could be dismissed as mere miswritings, but in reality, these were the triggers for the many mysteries brought by the Purge King—the source of this organization's wealth.

"Those might not be very useful. ...I don't understand the mechanism of things like engines at all. As I thought, food-related things are the easiest to understand..."

Muttering to himself, the master was looking at somewhere that wasn't here. What he spoke of were clues or goals for knowledge and culture that no one had ever seen, discovered, or noticed before.

The black-haired boy who repeatedly made cold-blooded decisions whenever he met people—but he was, by a prank of fate, blessed with the talent of a pioneer of culture, carrying many extraordinary ideas.

The many fragments of knowledge he spoke of set fire to the wise men who had been smoldering in the countryside. The wise men honestly verified and debated the nonsense of the boy who showed goals that ordinary people could not understand in a single leap, and finally established them as a theory. As a result, that generated vast profits and raised the boy who had nothing into a great villain.

'At this late stage, it's almost laughable to be making an overpowered "cheat" with modern knowledge.'

Frederica knew that the master had once muttered such a thing when he was praised for his achievements. She also knew that he wasn't laughing at all when he said it.

Anyway, while he made many people unhappy, he also generated happiness for many, which was the wicked part of this black-haired master. Even if he was a person to be spat upon, his intellect had certain value. There were surely not two people in the world as difficult to handle as him. —In that regard, perhaps he might have gotten along with Roswaal.

"————"

"Frederica, the meal. Take a bite first."

While thinking, Frederica efficiently proceeded with the meal preparations. This boy was just skin and bones. It wasn't that he was a light eater; it was likely something mental. For someone who hurt, robbed, and bought the hatred of many, his heart was thin, and she often saw him throwing up. As the person in charge of meals, it didn't feel good, but he probably wasn't throwing up because he wanted to.

"Margrave, here."

The meal she prepared was for two people for some reason. She served all the menu items for two people, on double the plates, and lined them up on the table. Then, her role was to take a bite of every dish and prove they weren't poisoned.

She had never thought of poisoning him. She had thought she wanted to. However, for Frederica, her work as a maid was an important part of her life. Thinking of the people who taught her and the people she was involved with, she didn't want to commit an outrage.

"Then, I will be outside, so if you need anything."

"Mm."

During meals, the master did not like to be seen. Therefore, Frederica, who had finished the meal preparations, would leave the room at the right time. On this day as well, she thought of leaving the room and waiting outside—and then, something caught her eye.

What was spread on the desk looked like a roster with the names of the organization's members. She saw a gold coin placed next to that roster.

In an instant, Frederica, who realized the meaning of that, could not hide the dread running up her back.

"Margra—"

"Frederica."

Turning back, Frederica tried to call the master, but empty black eyes were staring at her. Frederica choked at that empty darkness. Before her, the master slowly walked to the desk and closed the opened roster. Then, he picked up the gold coin next to it, placed it on his thumb, and—

"—Front."

With a light sound, the flipped gold coin fell into his left hand. Receiving it and checking the front and back, the boy smiled at Frederica.

"It's front, Frederica. —Your brother and grandmother are safe."

"—Ah."

"Get out. Don't come in until I say it's okay."

At the master's words, Frederica no longer even replied and nodded like a doll. And, unable to hide her welling tears, she left the room while wetting her cheeks with hot drops. Then immediately, Frederica covered her face and started running.

"U-ugh, uuu... uuuugh!"

She couldn't talk to anyone about anything. She wasn't allowed to confide in anyone.

Why did it turn out like this? Why did it turn out like this?

Those days at the mansion, with an uncute junior, a cute junior, and a troublesome master—the days they spent together were far, far away—where did that time go?

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

—Receiving the report from the secret messenger, Cecilus closed one eye and looked up at the moon.

"Fumu, fumu-fumu, fumu-fumu-fumu."

Just like that, he twisted his neck, twisted his waist, and leaned so far that his long hair brushed the ground. Originally, he wasn't good at thinking. Cecilus had no education and no intention of learning anything in his life; for his entire life—though it was only about twenty years—he had only devoted himself to one thing.

He took pride only in being a swordsman and had spent years swinging his sword. Since that was his only life, his honest feeling was that he wanted to be excused from difficult things.

"Now, what should I do? As for me..."

Straightening his leaning body, Cecilus brushed off the hair that had brushed the floor. Then, he made the guard of the sword at his waist click and turned back as if dancing—

"Hey, Halibel-san. What do you think?"

"—Good grief, when you're that dignified, I feel embarrassed for having held my breath."

On the balcony of the castle—Pandemonium—in a space looked down upon by the moon peeking from the sky, a beast shinobi appeared as if staining out from a slight shadow.

Halibel, whose concealment had been seen through, scratched his head and walked toward Cecilus, who had an unrepentant face. He took a pipe from his breast pocket, dropped fire onto the tip he held in his mouth, inhaled the purple smoke, and blew it out.

"Who was that secret messenger just now?"

"That? He's one of the 'Nine Divine Generals'... well, if it's Halibel-san, who's a top-class shinobi, it's only natural that he'd be found."

"Ce-san, you're really not suited for keeping secrets. With that, didn't I just find out that you haven't cut ties with the Vollachia Empire at all?"

"But didn't Halibel-san already know that?"

"————"

Halibel, who had a troubled smile, deepened his smile at Cecilus's point. Cecilus simply understood that it wasn't a denial.

"Originally, cooperating with the Boss was an order from His Excellency. Of course, it's not a lie that I was lured by the Boss's invitation and came here."

"A collar-wearing dog of the Empire... well, it would be easy to turn Su-san's movements into their own country's profit if they could guide them appropriately. The knowledge he brings from who-knows-where would also be easier for Kararagi and Vollachia to accept compared to Lugunica and Gusteko."

"Exactly."

Putting his hands into the sleeves of his kimono, Cecilus affirmed the fact that he was a spy. Cecilus was cooperating with the organization's plot because he was following the orders of the Vollachian Emperor, just as he had declared. That said, the Emperor understood Cecilus's nature, so he hadn't received any detailed instructions. He wouldn't be able to remember them even if he heard them.

However, Cecilus's role, which he was briefly ordered to do, was—

"As long as it's not His Excellency, I just have to kill the opponent the Boss orders me to kill. As usual."

"Ce-san, aren't you more like an assassin than me, a shinobi?"

"No, no, that's not true at all. After all, I can't do things like staying underwater for a long time, hiding poison all over my body, or welling up from shadows."

He waved his hands and head in humility, simply admitting the difference in fields. As a shinobi, as an assassin, he was far from reaching Halibel. In exchange, if it came to a head-on fight, Halibel would not be able to reach Cecilus.

"So, I happened to come across the scene where you were meeting a secret messenger, but what will you do? Shall we try a duel here?"

"Well, that depends on the content of the secret message."

"Fumu, and that content is?"

"If it's about being able to kill Su-san, I'll have to fight to stop it."

Halibel, who held the pipe between his fingers and blew out purple smoke, had his hair swayed by the cold night wind. Faced with the declaration that he would fight with his life on the line for his lord, Cecilus nodded with a "I see."

"I've been curious for a while, but why are you doing this for the Boss, Halibel-san? I'm following His Excellency's orders, so it's not like I have genuine loyalty."

"Repaying a debt."

"—A debt? Was there something that made you owe the Boss?"

An unexpected word jumped out, and Cecilus asked back with honest surprise. Some might have called it impudent and rude, but Halibel didn't take it that way. Halibel simply looked up at the waning moon in the night sky and—

"When I first met Su-san, there was a small incident at the edge of Kararagi. It was an incident involving the Four Great Spirits... and Su-san settled it."

"Heh, the Four Great Spirits! I know one of them too, but they're usually impossible to talk to. To settle that... wait, is the Boss stronger than I thought..."

"No, no. Don't take it so combatively. What should I say... well, I don't know what the direct deciding factor was, but yeah. It was like that strange foresight Su-san sometimes shows. It was something like that."

Cecilus, who had made the sword click, returned it and closed one eye at Halibel's explanation. He felt as if he somewhat understood, yet somewhat didn't, because Cecilus evaluated the boy who was the Boss in a certain way.

Halibel called it a strange foresight, but Cecilus didn't take it that way. He believed that was a weapon born of being prepared for everything, born of cowardice. And Cecilus respected and liked the strong. No matter what the fighting style, he recognized those who were greedy for victory as warriors.

"Well, I'm a swordsman among them, so I'd prefer sword against sword if possible."

"Ce-san, Ce-san, is my story done already?"

"Yes, that's enough. Anyway, I've never thought of doubting Halibel-san or anything like that. Unlike the Empire, the thoughts of the leaders in the City-States are intertwined... it's much more trustworthy than being told you're moving by someone's intention."

When he responded like that, Halibel dropped his shoulders as if he had lost all strength. Cecilus tilted his head at that gesture, and then clapped his hands as if he had remembered.

"Oh right, I forgot. About the report from the secret messenger just now."

"Is it okay to tell me that?"

"I thought it might be troublesome if I didn't tell you. Actually—"

There, Cecilus gave a full smile and told Halibel.

"—Since the murder of the former Margrave has come to light, it seems the Kingdom is going to get serious about destroying the organization."

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

—And so, the moment of the end arrived flatly.

"Thank you very much for granting me an audience today."

Saying this, the young man who was shown into the reception room as a guest stood boldly before the 'Purge King.'

"————"

He was a man who was said to have killed many, held many lives, and held many weaknesses. Among those who faced him, there were many who tried to remain calm, and many who acted tough—

"—You're quite bold, it's impressive. Even though you're probably not much different from me."

"—I am honored by your sudden words of praise."

The one who bowed was a slender young man in a black suit and tie. He had a gentle face, but a faint darkness could be glimpsed in the depths of his eyes. The smile he wore was likely a fake, and moreover, he took it for granted that it would be seen through. He wasn't reckless, but he was bold. —He was a young man who gave a disjointed impression.

"Um, you are certainly..."

"Actually, I'm thinking of doing business extensively around here in the near future. So first, I wanted to have the opportunity to give my greetings and a gift to the organization."

"I see, well, I appreciate the consideration."

His attitude of trying to carry out his role efficiently made a good impression. Following that attitude, the boy also tried to stick to his flat work.

"Here is the tribute. —I heard the representative desired this."

"Heh."

His eyes were drawn to the tribute the young man presented, which the attendant carried in and opened the lid of. There, a large number of stones—magic stones—were stuffed in, and as if to prove their high purity, the concentration of mana filling the room became even thicker. Staring at the tribute, the Purge King muttered.

"Which color is more common?"

"—?"

"Red and blue are more common, I think. But looking at the back, there's also yellow and green... it looks like a complete set. My, you're quite thoughtful."

At the question that made no sense, the young man hesitated for the first time. Instead of the young man, Cecilus, who was standing beside the King, answered. Receiving Cecilus's report, the King nodded solemnly and—

"I see, I appreciate that. I certainly accept your thoughtfulness. Um..."

"I am a messenger from Russell Fellow."

"Mm, I understand. From that Russell Fellow, right. I understand well. If there's anything you're troubled with..."

There, the Purge King cut off his words. The reason was that the young man who was the messenger spread his hands as if to interrupt his words.

For a moment, a sense of unrest spread through the room. The guards became agitated at the act of interrupting the King's words, wondering what kind of reaction the Purge King would return. But among them, Halibel, Cecilus, and the young man who was the party involved remained calm and—

"Wait. Actually, this isn't the only gift."

"—Heh. I'm more and more impressed."

At the young man's continued words, the King replied as such, and the tension thinned slightly. And in the place where the tension had thinned somewhat, the young man nodded deeply. And—

"—It is said to be a return gift from the Lugunica Kingdom for the Purge King's outrages."

—Immediately after, the white light that erupted swallowed and crushed the reception room whole.

A tremendous torrent of light swallowed the magnificent reception room, the demon castle Pandemonium, as if purifying it, and turned it into white dust.

Eighteen people were evaporated by the white light without knowing what had happened—all of them were warriors with skills they were proud of and had names for themselves, but this was on a completely different level. Even if there were a way to tell the evaporated people the truth, not a single one would believe it.

—That the blow that evaporated them was a deed performed by just a single swing of a sword.

The collapsing headquarters of the organization. The existence of light and glory that blew away the place where the main members were gathered and reigned supreme.

The 'Purge King,' who had committed numerous evil deeds and was finally recognized as an enemy of the world. The assassin sent by the Dragon-Blessed Kingdom to slay that existence was none other than—

"—The lineage of the 'Sword Saint,' Reinhard van Astrea."

The irrational hammer of God, which ruined all efforts, had manifested.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

In the destroyed reception room, the man stood leisurely. With burning red hair and blue eyes that reflected the sky, the Knight of Knights stood like a single painting, without leaving a single blemish on his white Royal Guard uniform.

In the knight's hand, the holy sword he had been holding shattered into pieces. With just a single swing, the steel forged by a master who left his name in the world easily turned to dust. In exchange, he had wiped out the man who had committed countless outrages and his gang in one fell swoop—

"—You understand that he's not such a charming fellow as to be finished by that, don't you?"

"————"

At lightning speed, he pierced through the smoke, and a tremendous sword strike was struck against Reinhard. A shockwave like thunder echoed, and the 'Sword Saint's' tall body was blown back significantly. However, he hadn't received a slash on his body. —He had received it with the scabbard of his beloved sword. Reinhard, who hadn't held it but twisted his body to receive the slash with the scabbard, made the young man who had unleashed the blow—Cecilus—whistle.

"My, my, truly, as inhuman as ever... I'm happy you haven't changed, Reinhard-san."

"I don't think I can be very happy about this reunion, Cecilus-dono."

Cecilus, who kicked the floor where dust was dancing with his sandals and shouldered the drawn 'Evil Sword' Murasame. Reinhard knitted his brows at that strike and greeting. And, as he peered into the back of the room where the smoke was clearing—

"...It didn't reach him."

"Ah, it didn't reach the Boss. Well, it was a blow against a place guarded by me and Halibel-san, so it was quite difficult. To be blunt, I wasn't doing anything to protect the Boss at all, so Halibel-san's achievement is 100%."

Saying this, Cecilus pointed with his chin in a carefree manner at the back of the room—where the 'Purge King' was resting his cheek on his hand on the throne in the cleared smoke, and the wolfman, Halibel, was shielding him from behind. Halibel blew out purple smoke from the pipe he held in his mouth and—

"Ce-san, correction. This isn't my achievement."

"Eh! Then, could it be that my hidden power..."

"It's not that either. This is Su-san's doing. ...This throne seems to be protected by an incredibly powerful force. We hadn't heard of it either."

To Cecilus, who was staring at his own hands in wonder, Halibel shook his head. And behind Halibel, the 'Purge King' who had been sitting on the throne stood up. Then, he grabbed the orange scarf he had wrapped around his neck and—

"—I saw your one shot at the loot cellar. Of course I'd be prepared for it."

He distorted his cheeks and gave a terribly painful smile. That was the reunion between the 'Purge King'—no, Natsuki Subaru—and Reinhard.

"Subaru...!"

"You drew the short straw, Reinhard. If you hadn't helped me at the loot cellar, things wouldn't have turned out like this. —Though, since you wouldn't have been able to meet your precious master in that case, maybe it's not so bad for you?"

"—っ"

As if peeking from behind Halibel, Subaru stuck out his tongue at Reinhard. At that wicked face, Reinhard hardened his cheeks as if he felt pain. Subaru, who had been making a hateful expression like a demon, looked at the blue eyes that were swaying sadly. Suddenly, his expression vanished and—

"—What. You're still monochrome after all."

"—? Monochrome? What on earth is that..."

"Shut up, you liar. —I can't let myself be killed by you like that."

In a voice with frozen emotion, Subaru turned his eyes away from Reinhard as if he had lost interest. Just like that, after tapping Halibel's shoulder, he looked at Cecilus, who was facing Reinhard, and—

"Cecilus, do as you like. I've lost interest."

"—. I don't quite understand, but it seems the Boss and I see different things. I'll gratefully take the worthy opponent."

"Seeing different things... haha, that makes sense. You'll make me laugh until the very end."

Subaru laughed happily at what was interesting about Cecilus's words. Then, the smile immediately vanished and—

"It was reasonably fun, Cecilus. You had no weaknesses, and I wasn't good with you."

"As for me... I'm afraid of mayonnaise."

"Hah!"

Subaru laughed heartily at Cecilus, who spoke shamelessly. Subaru's figure sank into the shadows as he was held by Halibel. Just like that, Subaru and Halibel would leave this situation in the face of danger—

"Wait! We still have to talk..."

"—It's over, 'Sword Saint.' If you don't want it to be over, then catch up and start again. Before that, a subordinate who is as loyal as a loyal subordinate can be to the 'Purge King' will stand in your way."

"Ku...っ"

Reinhard tried to chase after the vanished Subaru and the others, but a slash passed through his feet. The strike that cut a single line across the floor was a flash beyond the norm, achieved by an overwhelming sword speed that didn't even show the moment it was drawn—a swing of someone who had reached the height of the sword.

"Unfortunately, it's too early for me to be given that evaluation. I'm still in the middle of climbing the mountain. I think I could reach it if I could overcome just one more step."

"Reach where?"

"Of course, the Heavenly Sword."

In an instant, the air made a sound of tension, and it was cut, and he knew he would die. The transparent sword-aura emitted by a swordsman—no, a sword-guest—who had truly reached the height of a single blade. It had already reached the demonic realm and caused events that could not be measured by common sense.

The incarnation of the sword standing there would kill even the invisible just by touching the sword.

"I've been waiting for this moment. —The moment I cross swords with you."

"...Cecilus-dono, you and I have already crossed swords before. That match had a big meaning for me too. Why would you..."

"Naturally, as my body is one that swings a sword. —We shall only meet on the line of death."

The second sword, 'Evil Sword' Murasame, was drawn with an eerie glow. The first sword, 'Dream Sword' Masayume, bared its blade so beautiful that it made one wish to be cut.

Two of the ten magic swords, famous swords, and holy swords existing in the world—no,

"—'Dragon Sword' Reid."

The sword that was always by the 'Sword Saint's' side, yet was never drawn except for an enemy worthy of the 'Sword Saint,' exposed its white-shining blade to the atmosphere. The reason he felt a sound in the drawn blade must have been because the Dragon Sword was cheering.

"You know, don't you, Reinhard-san? There is a wall before us."

They faced each other with the Holy Sword, Magic Sword, and Dragon Sword in hand, as super-class existences. As if rubbing against each other, the distance shortened, the world feared the collision, and the atmosphere distorted.

"Those who have reached a certain realm will have their path to the future blocked by a wall. There will be those who can give up without overcoming that wall no matter what. But for me, that's impossible. If I don't overcome that wall, I can't be me."

"————"

"That's where the Boss's invitation came in. A way to overcome the wall... well, in short, a way to cross swords with you on the line of death, he said he would seriously set the stage for a life-and-death struggle. Truly—it was a feeling of clutching at a straw."

"A straw...?"

"A drowning man, so it seems."

That was the only solution that had brought Cecilus Segmunt to this place. Or was it inevitable when his wish as a swordsman was guessed?

Cecilus moistened his lips toward Reinhard, who widened his eyes. And the 'Blue Lightning,' who laughed and cut people down with a smile, said.

"I am drowning, Reinhard van Astrea-dono. According to my employer-dono, those of us who strongly desire something are all drowning. We continue to drown in a 'Great Ocean' we've never even seen."

"————"

Reinhard gasped. There, Cecilus, who lowered his body and held two swords, took off his sandals.

"—Swordsman, Cecilus Segmunt."

Vollachia Empire, First General, 'Blue Lightning'—extra titles are unnecessary. This body, only a single swordsman, and one who desires the path to the Heavenly Sword.

—Lightning, thunder, pierced Pandemonium.

Blood spray danced.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

—The shockwaves continued in Pandemonium.

The aftermath of the battle, the violent shaking and impact, reached all the way to Emilia's private room. Watching the light hanging from the ceiling shake violently and dust scatter, Emilia, curled up on the bed, was forced to make a choice.

"————"

Stay here, she was told. Or perhaps it was even like a plea: "Please stay here."

Should she believe that and wait, or should she ignore it and jump out? While hesitating about her position and the state of her heart, she continued to postpone her choice. However—

"—Lia, the conclusion is coming."

"Eh..."

Amidst the continued shaking of the fierce battle, Puck spoke to Emilia on the bed. Looking into the air with trembling purple eyes, Puck, who was crossing his short arms, was twitching his small nose.

Told it was the conclusion, Emilia gasped.

Again, she couldn't do anything. Postponing her choice, she accepted the result by not choosing. Half-realizing that was a cowardly act, she again—

Trying to hold back her attitude toward Subaru—

"—Reinhard is here. It's Subaru's loss."

"————"

Emilia's thoughts were frozen by Puck's continued words.

"Eh."

Letting out a voice that wasn't a word, a thought that didn't take shape, Emilia widened her eyes. Hearing it was the conclusion, Emilia had been certain of Subaru's victory. She realized for the first time in this moment that she had never once doubted it.

Natsuki Subaru does not lose. No matter what opponent comes, he will surely win using his selfish logic and strong distrust of humans as weapons. Taking all things as pawns, manipulating all the forces he can think of, he will destroy any enemy. And, tired of thinking, he will visit Emilia to seek a moment of peace—

Emilia had believed that Subaru would surely come to her place.

"Until today, I've never rushed Lia's choice, but I guess this time is no good. The time has come when you have to choose."

"Choose, you say..."

"Whether to stay here, or to leave here."

Puck's flat words had a certainty, as if he knew everything. Puck was looking down at Emilia, who was tightly clutching the sheets. His expression had none of his usual lightheartedness, but only a strong color of pity for his precious beloved child. It was the gaze of a parent, worried about the path of a beloved child who had lost her way.

"It seems Subaru was controlling the information well. There's no trace of Lia's involvement in the organization's activities. Well, Lia really wasn't involved, but since you were together for quite a while, people who make malicious guesses will appear, and it's a necessary measure, right?"

"Not involved... then, what kind of position was I in?"

"You're being treated as having been taken away from Roswaal's place and imprisoned. It seems the children who are trying to destroy Pandemonium now are also a rescue team who came to save you."

At the unexpected explanation, Emilia was simply stunned. It was a fact that Emilia had been taken away from Roswaal's place regardless of her own will. And it was also a fact that she had been angry about that and had resented Subaru. But it was also a fact that she hadn't rejected Subaru, who clung to her seeking salvation, and that she had overlooked his desperate efforts to protect his time with Emilia. Receiving that, could Emilia say she was unrelated to his actions?

Wasn't it the height of shamelessness to insist on that?

"Lia, if you wait here quietly, the rescue team will save you as a pitiful princess. But..."

Whispering, Puck landed on Emilia's slender shoulder. The continuation of the words the cat spirit didn't say was painfully clear to Emilia.

If she waited, she would be rescued as a victim. But if Emilia left here of her own accord, she would be a perpetrator with free will.

Faced with that fact, there wasn't even a second of hesitation.

"————"

Emilia, who stood up, touched the only door of the white room. To open it from the outside, a personal authentication by a complex ritual was necessary, a door that was ruled so that no one but Subaru and the caretaker Frederica could enter or leave. That ritual shattered without a trace the moment Emilia placed her hand on it from the inside.

"Subaru, you dummy..."

While seeking the traces of the shattered ritual in her palm, Emilia muttered in a faint voice. Originally, this ritual was set up so that it could be easily broken only by Emilia. In other words, Subaru had made it so that Emilia could escape whenever she wanted to. The door of the birdcage was always made so that it could be broken by a single decision of the caged bird.

Was it just that Subaru was confident that Emilia wouldn't escape? Or was it Subaru's own kindness, respecting Emilia's will to want to escape?

She wanted to hear that answer from Subaru's own mouth.

—That was the answer Emilia chose at the end of the time when she couldn't choose anything.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Taken out of the reception room and running through the castle with Halibel, the 'Purge King,' the boy, the Boss, the master, he—Natsuki Subaru—was laughing lowly.

"I should have properly taken Felt or someone as a hostage..."

If he had done that, would he have been able to bind Reinhard's movements? —No, rather than that, it was more likely that he would have bought Reinhard's wrath and ended up fighting a 'Sword Saint' who had powered up with that force.

It was a flow exactly according to the simulation. He probably had a premonition that it would be like this when Pandemonium fell.

"Being the big boss of the underworld was a bit fun, I guess..."

He looked back. On the path he had taken to get here. Just how much hard work it had been. Grabbing the weaknesses of many people, being directed hatred, while ruling over their lives and taking their lives on a whim—

—No, it was decisively not on a whim.

If it was thought to be a game, that was a great misunderstanding. He had never thought of trying to clear that up, nor was there any meaning in trying, so he had never even considered it.

—Subaru was afraid of humans. They were gruesome.

On the surface, they would treat him with a smile, but in reality, they harbored something in their bellies. Such a way of being for humans, who hid the truth and could move according to countless intentions, was terrifying.

Whether the person he was with could be trusted or not—it became foolish to even consider such a thing. That was why Subaru decided to simplify human relationships.

All humans lie. On top of that, even if all humans hated Subaru, the establishment of a world where there was no problem.

Every human has a weakness. Family, a lover, property, a dream, hope. So—

"—If only I could grab the weaknesses of every human in the world."

If he did that, Subaru would finally no longer have to doubt anyone. In a monochrome world, in a world where there was no colorful he could trust, he could find peace with hatred as his fuel.

"————"

Halibel, who was escaping with Subaru. Subaru could not see Halibel's figure in its true form. —To Subaru, his figure looked monochrome. It looked like it was in only two colors, white and black.

"————"

Looking monochrome was not limited to Halibel. Now, the world Subaru saw had lost all color and had changed to two colors.

People, objects, paintings, furnishings, jewels, magic stones, fresh blood, water—all were white and black. He couldn't distinguish between blood and water, and he couldn't distinguish between soup and poison.

Everything was monochrome. It was monochrome. In such a world, there were a few things that looked colorful to Subaru.

He believed those were real. He believed everything else was fake.

Beatrice was like that. Emilia was like that. And, the only other one, and.

Anyway, Subaru couldn't trust anything else. Everything brought from elsewhere looked literally faded.

Only the real things that didn't become lies. Only the real things had the right to decide whether Natsuki Subaru lived or died.

"...I was expecting a bit from Reinhard, though."

He expected that perhaps if it were someone related to him before those days—before the event that truly became the trigger for losing color—they might remain without fading. But Subaru saw even people he met for the first time as monochrome. Such an expectation was faint, and the once brilliant Reinhard looked like a gray mass to Subaru. He looked dingy.

After all, Reinhard is also a child of man. Surely he also continues to live while telling lies. That was all it was.

"Margrave—!"

A high voice called Subaru, who was running around inside the castle, from the side. Looking, the one running from across the hallway was the tall maid with long hair, Frederica. He couldn't distinguish colors, but someone with a strong facial features was easy to remember. Subaru secretly liked Frederica. So—

"Prepare yourself—!"

He thought it was charming that she would step in and formally shout that she was taking his life. Of course, that action of Frederica's would not be overlooked by Kararagi's strongest.

"Ah, ugh!"

The dagger she held was taken, and Frederica's arm was locked as she was pressed against the wall. Frederica turned only her head back toward Halibel, who had done that, and—

"Why, Halibel-sama! If we take advantage of the confusion now, that man..."

"Can be killed. I understand that feeling well. The children who are held by their weaknesses must want to kill Su-san and be liberated. But..."

There, Halibel opened his narrowed eyes and glared at Frederica. At that gaze he received at close range, Frederica's slender throat made a sound.

"Unfortunately, I'm not following him because of a weakness. I'm following Su-san out of a debt of gratitude."

"Gratitude!? To this man, gratitude? Don't be ridiculous...!"

While pressed against the wall, Frederica glared at Subaru with bloodshot eyes. Her already sharp fangs enlarged, and the slender fingers of the woman transformed into a thick, powerful beast.

"I will definitely..., what!?"

"Su-san?"

Beside Frederica, who was desperately twisting her body, Subaru was standing before she knew it. Frederica widened her eyes, and Halibel called out to stop him, but Subaru didn't stop. Just like that, Frederica's desperately raised arm grazed Subaru's neck.

In an instant, the piece of cloth Subaru had wrapped around his neck fluttered down—

"—Hi."

Frederica's throat hitched as she saw that. Halibel also showed a faint surprise at seeing it for the first time.

—On Natsuki Subaru's neck, the finger marks remained clearly.

"No, Frederica. I can't let myself be killed by you, who are monochrome."

"————"

To the frozen Frederica, Subaru brought his face close and clearly declared. Or perhaps he had expected that if it were Frederica, color might appear. However, even at this moment, at the decisive moment, Frederica remained monochrome.

"Halibel-san... take Frederica and let her escape."

"...Su-san. Probably, the internal collaborator who brought in the 'Sword Saint' was..."

"I know."

Looking at Frederica, who was unable to move, Subaru interrupted Halibel's words. He knew without being told. That Frederica would work internally like that was an emotion he could understand after that treatment. —No, it wasn't limited to Frederica. If it wasn't her, someone else would have just done it. Everyone but her was just a miscalculation.

"You don't have to come back, Halibel-san. I'll settle things in my own way."

"————"

"If you're going to repay your debt to me, this is enough. In the first place, there was no need to feel a debt for something like that. ...I just cheated."

Shaking his head, Subaru smiled thinly at Halibel. Halibel probably felt like he was interacting sincerely with Subaru. Even so, color didn't appear on Halibel either. Perhaps once lost, color does not return.

Because Subaru had lost the qualification to believe in anything. So no longer, would anything in the world take on color for Subaru.

"I truly wanted to become friends with Su-san."

"...If I hadn't run away, we might have been able to."

Accepting Subaru's will, Halibel simply made those short words his parting greeting. Subaru also felt it would be boorish to exchange more than that with him. At the very end, he wanted to look cool for the person he might have been able to become friends with.

"Frederica."

"————"

At the call, Frederica slowly turned toward him. To her, who had already lost her will to fight, Subaru hesitated whether to tell her. But since he had been told to tell her,

"He said to tell you the food was always delicious."

—Probably, that strange phrasing made no sense to Frederica.

Until the very end, Natsuki Subaru must have looked like a monster to Frederica. That was fine. That was okay. He acted so that he would look that way, and he saw it through. Though he couldn't get the result he wanted to see.

"Now, where should I go?"

Halibel took Frederica and vanished as if sinking into the shadows. And so, alone, Natsuki Subaru was left behind in the ruins of his dream.

The shaking continued in Pandemonium, likely proof that the fierce battle between Reinhard and Cecilus was unfolding, but the multiple voices heard from afar made him judge that it wasn't just Reinhard who had attacked, but also potential enemies who had taken advantage of this opportunity.

Enemies, enemies, enemies. It was nothing but enemies. Since he had lived so that it would be that way, it couldn't be helped.

"————"

Subaru reached a fork in the road ahead and hesitated for a moment which way to go. If he went right, it was the sleeping quarters of Emilia, whom his weak self had relied on. If he went left, it was the place of her, whom his weak self had relied on—

"—Eh."

It was the moment he raised his head at that choice.

Someone who had rushed up stabbed a sharp knife into Subaru's left side.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Through the unfamiliar castle, through the unfamiliar scenery, the barefoot Emilia was running.

Although she had spent about a year in Pandemonium, the only castle scenery Emilia knew was her white private room. Everything outside the room, and everything outside the building, was beyond Emilia's consideration. And that remained the same now. Emilia's interest was not in the world.

Now, Emilia's interest was directed only toward the boy who continued to seek her, alone.

"—Emilia-sama!"

Her name was called, and Emilia stopped her feet with a startled face. Pandemonium was collapsing everywhere and losing its original shape. The one who called to stop Emilia in the white hallway with cracked windows and a tilt was the young man with burning red hair and blue eyes.

"Reinhard..."

"Are you safe, Emilia-sama? I am more than happy to see you again."

Even in such a place, his posture of sticking to the knight's etiquette was brave and too noble. Emilia's purple eyes swayed with confusion at the sight of the young man, Reinhard van Astrea, who rushed up to her and bowed his head.

"Reinhard, you have a terrible injury. Are you okay?"

"There is no need to worry. I cannot say it is a light wound, though."

Saying this, Reinhard relaxed his lips at Emilia's words. But Reinhard's figure was in a state of being covered in wounds that one could not even imagine for him.

Sword wounds from countless sword flashes ran all over his body, and the bleeding that still hadn't stopped was dropping spots of blood on the white hallway. His messy red hair was stuck to his cheeks on his精悍 face, and there was a certain color of fatigue on his profile, where she had never even seen his breathing become labored. The white Royal Guard uniform was stained with his own and others' blood, and what was most surprising was—

"Your sword..."

"The sword judged that this was a scene where the 'Dragon Sword' should be drawn."

The Holy Sword that was never drawn, the 'Dragon Sword' Reid passed down in the Astrea family, shone white. Seeing that brilliant and beautiful blade, Emilia swallowed hard. She wondered just who that blade had been swung against in this castle, and who it was intended to be swung against from now on.

"Anyway, I'm glad Emilia-sama is safe. ...Come with me and leave this place. There is a dragon carriage outside the castle. With that, to Lugunica."

"To Lugunica... where is this?"

"This is the hidden castle of Giral Red Hill, at the edge of the Kararagi City-States... I had trouble finding its location, but thanks to a skilled intelligence agent and an internal collaborator, I managed somehow."

While responding to Emilia's question, Reinhard was wary of his surroundings. The fact that the shaking still continued meant that a battle was occurring somewhere in this castle. From Reinhard's perspective, he would want to head to support his allies. No matter how covered in wounds he was, he was still the strongest in the Kingdom—no, the strongest man in the world.

If it were him, falling Pandemonium would also be a matter of time. If only he wasn't here—

"Emilia-sama, for now, let's leave this place—"

"Let's leave quickly," Reinhard was probably going to continue. But those words were suddenly interrupted by the action of Emilia, who had turned her back.

"————"

It was an instant.

An ice sword pierced through Reinhard's abdomen from behind. Blood traced the pale blue ice blade, his internal organs were invaded by destruction and freezing, and the 'Sword Saint' spat blood at the unprecedented impact.

"Emilia, sama."

"Ah."

Reinhard, who was unable to understand what had happened, fell to his knees. Watching him, Emilia stared at her own white fingers in a daze. She was stunned by her own action, which was truly an unexpected one.

—If this had been a betrayal from Emilia's true heart, Reinhard would have prevented it.

If it were an attack with enmity or murderous intent, it wouldn't be able to slip through Reinhard's intuition. Or if his Divine Protections were working properly, it still wouldn't have been able to pierce Reinhard's defense. However, the fact that this was Pandemonium and that Emilia herself was unable to control her own heart—that gave Reinhard a fatal opening.

"No, ...no. Subaru is no good. Reinhard, no. I won't let you hurt Subaru. Subaru needs me..."

While shaking her head "no, no," Emilia backed up the true meaning of her action. A reflexive action, the reason she had attacked Reinhard reflexively, was because she had instinctively realized that his existence would destroy Pandemonium and corner Natsuki Subaru. And because she had instinctively thought she had to stop that realization.

Emilia had no choice but to kill Reinhard to protect Subaru, unconsciously.

"Subaru is, I..."

Having reached this point, Emilia finally understood her own heart. Many, many times, she had continued to watch Subaru as he came to her place and tried to find peace, and while spending such time, Emilia had also been saved.

—Just as Subaru needed Emilia, Emilia also needed Subaru.

"I will protect him. I have to protect Subaru..."

"Emilia-sama, that is..."

"—Puck! Please!"

With a roar, a tremendous cold wind erupted, and her silver hair fluttered beautifully in the white hallway. Basking in the bone-chillingly cold wind that had even sublimated into murderous intent, Reinhard jumped back significantly while drawing a line of blood in the air. Then, he held his sword while spitting blood with his cough.

In his blue eyes reflecting the sky, the 'Witch of Frost' and the 'Beast of the End' stood side by side.

'Sorry, Reinhard. Lia's wish is my desire. —If you're that weakened, there's a chance to win. It's a feline-like cruelty, isn't it?'

"Please, Reinhard. Just go home. Leave me and Subaru alone."

"—I cannot do that."

To Emilia, who was trying to find a peaceful solution even at this stage, Reinhard shook his head. The negotiations had already broken down. When she had struck him from behind—no, or perhaps Reinhard himself might have responded to a reconciliation regardless of his wounds if the situation permitted. However, Reinhard's conviction had already reached a point where it would not permit that.

"The representative of the organization 'Pleiades,' the 'Purge King' Natsuki Subaru, has already caused the deaths of 126,702 people, including the former Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers, citizens of the Kingdom, and subjects of the Vollachia Empire, the Kararagi City-States, and the Holy Kingdom of Gusteko."

"————"

There was a sincere resonance and a plea in Reinhard's words. There was a resonance as if he were wishing for Emilia's change of heart by hearing his words and knowing Natsuki Subaru's evil deeds. In fact, Emilia was shocked. Emilia, who had stayed in her private room and whose role was only to watch Subaru's sleeping face, knew none of his evil deeds. She had a faint inkling that he had caused Roswaal's death and taken her away, though.

And, after that shock, Emilia looked down. Shock, there certainly was shock. But the shock Emilia felt was not a disappointment at the weight and number of the sins Subaru had committed—

"—I'm sorry, Reinhard. Even so, Subaru is precious to me."

The shock at herself, whose attachment to Natsuki Subaru did not thin even now after knowing those evil deeds. Emilia's position was not going to change even after knowing the truth.

"—っ"

At Emilia, who said that, Reinhard bit his lip. Then, he immediately raised his face and held the drawn Dragon Sword in front of him,

"—The lineage of the 'Sword Saint,' Reinhard van Astrea."

"I am Emilia. Just Emilia."

They named themselves to each other, and the next moment, a white shockwave destroyed the top floor of Pandemonium. The imprisoned princess who was supposed to be saved, and the knight of the sword who came to save her, accomplished a killing of each other.

※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

"Damn, it... damn it... that, damn, idiot...!"

Through the collapsing castle, Subaru was running while swearing, stumbling along. His unsteady feet, the fresh blood dripping down—the knife from when he was attacked by the assassin was still stuck in his left side, and the pain was endlessly "Dempsey Rolling" through his brain.

"That monochrome bastard... if there's a next time, I'll definitely kill him...!"

While breaking out in a greasy sweat, Subaru, who continued to move forward relying on the hallway walls, thought of the assassin who had vanished after giving a final push and not giving the finishing blow—the man who should have vanished in the reception room.

'Since anything more is beyond the scope of my work. Natsuki-san, please watch your step.'

To stab the general in the enemy camp and then flee—that escape and way of talking were a masterpiece—Subaru had no hobby of praising his enemy. He was a man who did exactly what he hated. He felt pure humiliation and disappointment at his own carelessness for overlooking that difficult enemy, which turned into rage.

But the venting of that passion was not likely to be fulfilled in this situation.

"A fitting end, a fitting conclusion, huh..."

While placing his hand on his left side, which ached like a burn, Subaru muttered gloomily. Thinking of what he had done, he knew it was certain that he would receive his reward someday. Even so, his ideal was to postpone the moment he received that reward until hell, but after all, it was the shallow wisdom of an ordinary person—to reach his limit in less than three years since he started was pathetic.

That's just the kind of end a dictator meets. The fact that he had overdone things as a result of his paranoia surely spurred on that destruction.

However, there was no regret. If he had done this, if he had done that—he couldn't find any such easy-to-understand points for correction. He knew from the beginning that he was wrong, and he had never thought of correcting it. Subaru was just struggling in his own way of living, however wrong it was.

He was just drowning. A drowning man was just being desperate to catch his breath. Just with that—

"—Subaru."

"————"

Someone called Subaru as he moved at a crawling speed through the hallway, leaving a trail of blood.

For a moment, he didn't know the identity of that voice, and Subaru knitted his brows. —It wasn't that he didn't have an idea. It was just that he didn't understand the reason that voice was heard here. Because her private room was in the exact opposite position from here, and if it was to escape outside, there was no reason to come to a place like this. So—

"U-woah!"

"I'm glad, Subaru... I managed to see you properly...っ"

"Emilia...?"

Subaru only accepted that it was reality after being jumped on by Emilia, who rushed up, being pushed down in the hallway, and looking at her beautiful face at close range.

In the monochrome world, silver, purple, and cherry-colored lips—color was being added. Only Emilia was taking on color, as if to tell him she was the only one in the world.

"—But, why?"

To the figure of the coloring Emilia, however, Subaru could not understand the situation. A certain warmth, a hug so tight it was painful, was given to Subaru from Emilia. It was always Subaru who sought Emilia unilaterally, and he couldn't understand why she had come to Subaru in this situation—

"...Emilia, that injury."

"—. It's okay. Truly, it's nothing. I'm fine."

Looking at Emilia again as she clung to him, she was covered in wounds despite her smiling and acting tough. Her beautiful silver hair was messy, and part of it had been cut off, making it uneven. Her white thin nightgown was frayed and stained with blood, and there were several painful lacerations on her bare feet.

He should have applied countless defense measures to her private room so that she wouldn't end up like this. And the spirit who wouldn't permit her to meet such a fate should have been with her.

"What was Puck doing..."

"Puck is... no, that story is fine for now. It's fine for now..."

"—?"

For a moment, hesitation crossed Emilia's eyes, but it was immediately hidden by her closed eyelids. Subaru was suspicious of that reaction, but when Emilia opened her eyelids next, the glimpsed hesitation was nowhere to be found.

"Subaru, let's escape together. Right now, no one can chase us."

"—Escape, with me?"

"Yes. Who else is there? Don't say strange things."

Emilia poked Subaru's nose with her finger, looking a bit angry. That seemed like such a misplaced gesture that question marks continued to fly over Subaru's head. In the first place, Emilia should have resented Subaru.

"Even so, because you were kind, I was just taking advantage of that..."

"—Was that how it was? I thought so too, but..."

"Emilia?"

Placing her hand on her chest, Emilia lowered her eyes sadly and fleetingly. What crossed her chest, her mind, was it the days she spent here after Subaru took her away? Was it the time she had no choice but to watch the sleeping face of the hateful opponent who visited her frequently? Subaru had been saved by that time, but it should have been a humiliation for Emilia—

"I think I was angry at Subaru. But that was truly only at first... after that, I think I was always being saved by Subaru."

"Saved by me...?"

"Because Subaru needed me. I felt like Subaru permitted me, when I had given up and thought no one needed me, so..."

Codependency—such a word floated in Subaru's mind. Just as Subaru needed Emilia's existence for his mental stability. Emilia also came to such a conclusion while seeking the necessity of that time within herself. Because of that, the two of them fell into a codependent relationship where they needed each other.

"I want to be with Subaru. So, let's escape?"

"...I'm happy you say that, but..."

While responding haltingly, Subaru still couldn't accept Emilia's confession. In his heart, which was struck by the shock, his thoughts derived a realistic answer.

As Emilia said, it was impossible to escape with her. Reinhard was here. Even if Cecilus was holding him back, there should be many enemies outside the castle seeking the subjugation of the 'Purge King.'

There were no longer any allies for Subaru outside the castle. The many tricks to suppress potential enemies would not function in this situation. Potential enemies would become certain enemies and stand in his way.

Escaping with Emilia was not realistic at all. Natsuki Subaru is finished here. Finished here—

"—Then, I'll die with you."

"————"

In an instant, Subaru was more stunned than when he was stabbed in the abdomen, more than when Reinhard appeared, more than when he realized the end.

The smiling Emilia looked at Subaru and said with affection and certain endearment. If Natsuki Subaru was finished, Emilia would also be finished here—

"I'll finish with you. I don't want to be in a place where you don't need me."

"—Ah."

"Please, Subaru. I need you. I want you to be with me."

Emilia clung to his chest. Feeling the sensation of hot drops and her breath, Subaru strongly realized that he was needed, in a way that was the exact opposite of usual. Just as Subaru clung to Emilia, Emilia was clinging to Subaru.

Subaru had always needed Emilia. He had been saved by her. So, the moment when Emilia needed Subaru and sought salvation was now.

The moment when Emilia needed Subaru and sought salvation was now, now, such a moment, he had never even thought—

"Subaru...?"

Grabbing the shoulders of the clinging Emilia, Subaru pushed her away. And standing up before her as she stared with wide eyes, Subaru stepped back.

Emilia was looking up at Subaru. To such an Emilia, Subaru said with trembling lips.

"L-lie..."

Shaking his head "no, no," Subaru was looking at Emilia—with eyes of fear.

"Suba, ..."

"No, stop, stop it. Why, now, why! Stop! Stop stop stop! Stop it!!"

Fear, it was fear. There was fear. There was only fear. There was only fear. It was only fear. Fear, fear, fear, fear, fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear fear—

'—With such a scent of the Witch lingering on you.'

He covered his ears. He held his head. He raised a voice, a scream, trying to escape from the voice he heard.

'—It's beyond the limit of being transparent to say you're unrelated.'

Even if he tried to cover his ears, Even if he tried to hold his head, Even if he tried to raise a voice, a scream, and escape, he couldn't escape.

'—Older sister is too kind.'

"How should I know that!!"

Screaming so much he spat blood, Subaru backed away. Emilia stood up and was saying something to him. He couldn't hear. With sweet, sweet, kind words, she tried to stay by Subaru's side. He couldn't hear. Her words, her voice, didn't reach him. He didn't want to hear them.

Don't spoil me. Don't be kind to me. Why are you trying to stay by my side now? Such a thing should be impossible. Just how many evil deeds do you think I've committed? Emilia shouldn't be able to forgive that. She shouldn't have been. Did I change that?

By Subaru clinging to her, pathetically dripping snot, and getting through sleepless nights by relying on Emilia—did Natsuki Subaru's foolishness change Emilia?

Does Emilia change too?

"If only you had hated me! If only you had resented me!"

"————"

Emilia was fading. Color was falling away from Emilia, and she was sinking into the monochrome world.

It was a lie, it was a lie. Deception was making Subaru's world fade. Silver, purple, the colors that composed Emilia, the colors that composed the beautiful Emilia Subaru believed in, were falling away, and she was being dyed in the monochrome of deception. He couldn't accept that reality. Emilia was supposed to be noble and unchanging.

Even if it was a hateful opponent, she couldn't distance herself from the person clinging to her. Because he believed her kindness was an expression of such a heart, because he could believe that she would never forgive Subaru, Subaru was able to drown in Emilia.

But if he realized that Emilia also changes—

"Don't be kind...!"

"Anyway, you'll end up hating me. You'll doubt me. You'll think I'm in the way, want to kill me, hate me, curse me, and betray me, right!?"

"Then, just hate me from the beginning! If only you had stayed that way, unchanging! If you hate me, you'll stay that way. If you hate me, you'll stay that way...!"

Anger was welling up. He was drowning in anger toward the world where nothing went well.

He had struggled desperately to save his drowning self and had repeatedly caught his breath, but finally, even Emilia betrayed Subaru.

—Since things that change will eventually betray, she had as good as betrayed him now.

"Don't pretend to love me when you'll eventually betray me!!"

"—っ"

He pushed away the monochrome Emilia who had reached out her hand to Subaru. Pushing her away with all his might, the unsupported Emilia fell in the hallway. In an instant, hesitation crossed his chest, but Subaru painted over it with fear.

Even Emilia was no longer peace. The situation he had been considering as a final possibility—that it might come someday—had come. —He hadn't thought as far as being needed, though.

—Emilia might eventually forgive Subaru.

He had wished such a day wouldn't come, but it had come after all. So Subaru, in this world with only two colors, white and black, clung to his final means.

"—!!"

The fallen Emilia was screaming something. Leaving that behind him, Subaru started running.

He didn't even feel the pain in his side. He no longer cared about such a thing. What existed was only the will to the end. Subaru's coloring world had all vanished.

What remained was only that. The final straw the drowning Natsuki Subaru could cling to was only that—

—The hatred that would never change, that would never forgive Subaru.

"—!!"

The voice of the half-crazed Emilia didn't reach the half-crazed Subaru. The collapse of the demon realm, Pandemonium, proceeded at an accelerated pace, just like the collapse of its master's heart.

In the breaking world, in the world losing color, Subaru arrived.

"————"

It was Natsuki Subaru's office, which hadn't completely broken. A room with defense as strong as Emilia's private room—that was because something that must never be broken, just like Emilia, was in this room.

In the exact opposite of Emilia, whom he distanced because he didn't want to hurt her. Subaru opened what he had kept in his most immediate place.

The door hidden behind the bookshelf was truly a door that no one but Subaru could open. Subaru slowly opened it.

Beyond the opened door, the sound of chains, the sound of chains connected to the wall, echoed. And, while playing the sound of chains, the 'pale pink' eyes looked at Subaru and said.

"—Did you finally want to die, Barusu?"

—The smile of the woman who killed him for the sole reason of hatred was the color of blood.

『Life in a Different World Drowning from Zero』 Fin

※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Sorry for being late this time. This route branches off from the fourth loop in Arc 2, if Subaru was unable to choose the option to jump off the cliff after Rem died from the curse, and was instead let escape outside the territory by Beatrice. To put it more briefly, it's the case where 'STRAIGHT BET' did not play.