Arc 9, Part 46: "The Witch of Melancholy"

—God, Buddha, Od Laguna. I vow, for the rest of my life, never to be picky about what I like or dislike again.

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—The "Witch of Melancholy," Petra Leyte. In the first place, why did Petra end up in the position of being entrusted with the Witch Factor of "Melancholy"?

The reason Clind, the original owner, wouldn't suffice was that he had a role only he could fulfill—acting as the restraint for the "Divine Dragon" Volcanica. And ultimately, it could be said that anyone other than him could have been the owner. Of course, there were those suited and unsuited to using the Authority of "Melancholy." Emilia and Meili, who were already formidable combatants without it, and Rem, who had her own specific role, were removed from candidacy early on. However, even excluding them, there were still plenty of candidates. So, the reason Petra was selected as the holder of the Witch Factor, over others like Ram or Old Man Rom who remained candidates until the end, was a reason far greater than a judgment of overall combat strength.

—To put it simply, Petra was the one who could master the Authority most effectively.

"——The Sin Archbishop of 'Gluttony'... that Roy bastard. He claims he's just eating whatever he can get his hands on, but his variety of moves is insane. What's the plan?" "He handles close quarters, mid-range, and long-range attacks. It's troublesome." "Cheating. Just like Young Master." "「If he's the same as Reinhard, nobody can win!」" "Don't shout so loud! Glacis, don't say such reckless things. It'll make me lose heart." "Hah! How friendly. If you already feel like you've won, would you mind sharing that feeling with Ram?" "This girl and her sarcasm..." "But I get what the maid sister is saying. What's the move?" "Basically, we continue as we are. It's true the opponent has cards to play at any distance, but..." "「But?」" "No matter how many cards are in his hand, there's only one head choosing them. If we keep up the wave-like attacks, he's bound to misplay a card eventually." "Even if we don't, his wounds are deep. Once he loses his patience, he'll want to force the situation. For Master Rom, that was a job well done." "Heh, my Old Man Rom is amazing, right?" "Indeed, Master Rom is reliable." "Clap clap, Master Rom." "We are in the middle of a life-or-death battle!" "I hate to break up the fun, but I have to give all sorts of orders to the Hungry Horse Kings, and my head feels like it's going to split, you know?" "「——We're sorry!!」"

Petra uses the Authority of "Melancholy" to Compress the contents of that strategy meeting—which was as thorough as if they had discussed it face-to-face—into a single instant. She layered the Compression of the process where everyone agonized until they reached their best ideas.

If I can compress travel distance and time like Mr. Clind did, then I can compress thinking time and consultation time too... It's a shift in perspective, common with conceptual abilities!

"Clind-onii-sama's head was just too stiff because he used it the same way for so long."

While concentrating on fine-tuning the Authority's effects, Petra exchanged banter with an imaginary, translucent Subaru. They were in the middle of combat. Normally, one might complain that it was distracting, but for the current Petra, these interactions with "Subaru" were a great help. Carrying the small box where the Witch Factor of "Melancholy" was stored—the one she had inherited from Clind—Petra continued to feel the terrifying gravitational pull of this power within her soul.

"I hate to say it myself, but the word 'gravity' is just too perfect."

The sensation of being pulled in irresistibly; Petra likened it to gravity and warned herself. If she let her guard down for even a second, the Witch Factor would immediately tempt her with "I can do this" and "I can do that," attempting to strip away her essential human shackles. If left to its own devices, she felt she might surrender to the sensation of being sucked in, like peering over the edge of a cliff—

"But I can't."

The sense of omnipotence is a sweet nectar that intoxicates people. The Witch Factor preys on such human weaknesses. Moreover, its method is to present itself as a means to fulfill one's greatest desire, asking, "How about this?" The more one holds something precious, an unyielding wish, the more irresistible that temptation becomes. That was surely no exception for the "Witch of Greed," or even Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti, the Sin Archbishop of "Sloth." Petra didn't know what would have happened to her if she hadn't had a way to support her ego. But—

Petra! Tonchin needs backup!

"Kan-san is taking a break! Leave it to me!"

Her mental eardrums were struck by that boyish, brave voice, and Petra activated her Authority—Compressing the process of thought and communication for Rachins and Gaston, who were struggling with how to react to the downpour of filth and the strikes of the blood scythe. She made them choose the optimal move. The two switched their responses to the approaching attacks; Gaston took the blood scythe with his "Flow Method," and Rachins cleared the filth with a gatling of fireballs, managing to hold the line perfectly. "Subaru" gave a thumbs-up, and Petra responded with one of her own.

Nice, Petra! Keep it up! You're so cool!

Even if it was just an illusion, her heart swelled at the triumphant smile of the person she loved. This was it. Because of this, Petra could exceed her limits while remaining herself. —Unlike the many throughout history who were possessed by Witch Factors, Petra was not alone. That was what kept Petra from falling into depravity as the "Witch of Melancholy." Because—

"I don't want Subaru to hate me."

Laugh at her vanity if you will. Point your finger and mock her. If necessary, she could prepare as many public excuses as needed. This was a battle to save the world. To rescue the many people living in the Kingdom from anxiety. To protect the grand stage of the Royal Selection. Because she carried everyone's expectations on her shoulders. There were plenty of reasons besides the public ones. Ram-neesama, who usually wanted to slack off, was fighting hard. Frederica-neesama, who was staying behind, was praying for them. Otto-san was always overdoing it. It really sucked to be moved according to the Master's intentions. She wanted to show her good side to Emilia-neesama and Rem-neesama. She would "gao-gao" enough for Garf-san too. Meili-chan, don't look so worried. Beatrice-chan, I'll definitely save you, so don't cry. All of those things were precious, and they were certainly reasons for Petra to try her best, but the most important one was different.

The most important one is you. I don't want to show you my uncool side. I don't want to show you my pathetic side. Because I don't want to let my guard down for even a second while I'm in your sight. If I have to pretend to be someone who is always sparkling to make you turn toward me—you, who are captivated by people who are always sparkling—then that's what I'll do.

I fell, pulled by gravity, a long time ago. I have no need for a Witch Factor. —Everything about me is made of love and romance.

"So, I'm perfectly fine."

No matter how much the Witch Factor tempted her, Petra would never be broken. As long as this love existed, neither "Gluttony" nor the Black Snake was the least bit frightening.

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—God, Buddha, Od Laguna. I vow, for the rest of my life, never to cry for someone else's sake again.

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The hidden strength of the Ardebusters—no, the group that should be called the "Witch of Melancholy and her Apostles"—far exceeded Roy's expectations and imagination.

"Good, it's good, maybe good, right, isn't it, it's fine, nothing but good, because it's good, because I can be praised for it being good! Binge Eating! Binge Drinking!"

Ultimately, Roy didn't understand what the "Witch of Melancholy" was doing. However, he clearly understood that she was utilizing her Authority to its maximum potential, providing a path forward for Felt and the others, and countering the Authority of "Gluttony."

Even in battle, Felt and the others weren't producing results beyond their actual abilities. The upper limit of their strength was simply being drawn out and used to its fullest at all times. And what made that possible was the effect of the Authority of "Melancholy." However—

"It shouldn't be such a convenient thing that you can use it as much as you want."

As mentioned before, Roy had heard from his mother's mouth about the defects possessed by the Witch Factor of "Melancholy." A Witch Factor that would never be compatible with anyone was supposed to be a defective product that granted the owner immense power to interfere with the rules of the world, while demanding a price in return. In other words, even the seemingly perfect adaptability of the "Witch of Melancholy" would eventually reach its limit. The arrival of that limit would depend on how much of a price she could pay.

"I get it, I get it, Petra-chan loves Natsuki-san very much, after all."

If he traced the latest "Memories" stored in the "Soul's Stomach"—the treasury Roy had consumed—he could feel the devoted feelings of the newly born "Witch" in this world as if they were piercing his own chest. She was a young, immature girl, but she was a child who wouldn't hesitate to give her life for her burning love. If she were told she needed to burn something other than her life as fuel to reclaim the precious things stolen from her, she would likely offer it up without hesitation. And in fact, she was doing just that. —But her stock was not unlimited.

"The rest is just a matter of who runs out first."

Just as the "Witch of Melancholy" had her limits, Roy also had a time limit on his life. The reason he hadn't bothered to treat his wounds, from which blood was gushing, was that he was transforming even that flowing blood into armaments to fulfill his own purpose, using it as a means to resist. That massive blood loss continued to light the fuse of Roy Alphard's life.

Truly, this battle was now on the line of eat or be eaten.

"Haha."

Exhaling hot, feverish breaths, Roy felt grateful for the hunger that made his soul leap. Until now, Roy, as "Bad Eating," had devoured everything he could get his hands on. He had eaten, licked, gorged, and chewed, "eroding" many lives in search of something to fill the hunger Roy Alphard was born with. For that purpose, Roy had continued his food-hunting with the mindset of trying everything in the world until he found the desired flavor—eating and being disappointed, eating and being discouraged, eating and being let down, dominated endlessly by a sense of hunger that wouldn't be filled no matter how much he "eroded."

A change had occurred in his food-hunting activities. The cause was—

Go on, try it. See if you can eat me up, it's life or death. Hey, you.

It was largely due to being driven mad by the owner of an overwhelming soul who had nearly burst the vessel called Roy Alphard inside that tower soaring in the sand sea.

—Reid Astrea.

Touching the soul of the man called the first "Sword Saint" had brought about a great transformation in Roy. While calling himself "Bad Eating" and putting his heart into food-hunting everywhere, Roy had been grieving. —Grieving that the hunger his existence carried might never be satisfied.

It's not like you're special or anything, you know? Me, and every other damn person, everyone, everyone, everyone is searching for a love that can't be filled. I'll help you find that nameless thing you want. In exchange, what I want is... you understand, right?

Saying that, laughing seductively and sadistically, the monster declared she would become Roy's mother. Without opening his heart or becoming dependent on her existence, Roy used his mother, desiring the possibilities he couldn't find on his own. It was probably mutual.

But no matter how much he ate, or whose hand stained with love he took, he couldn't get what he wanted. Ley sought a way to fill his hunger by finding value in every single meal, and Louis apparently had a concrete vision of what she wanted to fill her hunger. It was only Roy. Only Roy lacked that. —And he had finally found it.

It ain't strange, you. To eat or be eaten, that's what it means to live, ain't it?

Ah, yes. That's right. Exactly. What I want is the sensation of living. A reason to be able to laugh from the bottom of my heart and say I'm alive.

Isn't it natural to pour everything I have into what I want?

Ah, yes. That's right. Exactly. Even without a shred of affection or respect, that teaching of his mother's was undeniably correct. So—

"You can't call it love unless you pour in every single move you've got, everything, all of it, without hesitation!"

Since the opponent was exceeding their limits, he had to respond in kind. If he couldn't finish the feast so carefully prepared, the name of "Gluttony" would weep.

"Come, come, come, come! Eat up, taste it!"

In exchange for his limbs growing cold from blood loss, his heart's voltage was at its peak. He transformed the flowing blood into thorn-like legs mimicking insect limbs, and in response to the leaping Roy, the Black Snake behind him became a pillar of filth piercing the heavens, resuming its simple, crushing hunt.

『————』

The wind roared, and the pestilence fell upon the forest without rhyme or reason. What was born was a wave of poison so blasphemous it seemed impossible to prevent. It literally swallowed the battlefield in black, pressing down to sicken and kill everything. But—

"Live—!" "「—Strongly!!」"

A simple command and its response became the opening arrow of a counterattack that bound their total strength together. Ram's rending wind tore through the black waves, and the herd of beasts led by the Hungry Horse Kings following Meili opened a breakthrough. The well-built men following them, including the newly summoned ones, acted as one—their swung hammers smashed the earth violently, forming a defensive wall against the evil poison. It was the brute force of those who were inferior individually, combined into one, a battle where the efforts of a gathered life struck back against the result of an encroaching death.

"From what I see, Petra-chan's Authority is basically 'Shortening' events, right?"

"Pfft. I'm not telling."

"That cold response is so enticing!"

Without stopping his attack, as the Black Snake's filth poured down like rain, Roy, clad in blood armor, charged. He switched between the different supernatural powers, techniques, and deviations of various "Extraordinaries" one after another, raining down punches, magic, and cursed songs in layers upon his prey. But each time, they immediately reorganized their formation, weaving together physical and magical attacks to counter—it was no longer clear who protected what. Only the fact that they all blocked and all pushed back together was rewriting the battlefield.

—Even in the midst of that battle, Roy's eyeballs rolled around, inspecting his prey.

Roughly speaking, the Authority of the "Witch of Melancholy" was undoubtedly "Shortening." With it, she shortened the time and distance of movement, and likely managed the time for thought and judgment as well. As proof, the Apostles of "Melancholy" who were appearing and disappearing on the battlefield one after another—even those joining for the first time—responded without being bewildered by the sudden situation. No, she "Shortened" the part where they were bewildered, allowing them to participate in the situation before them immediately.

"But I wonder how much longer that will hold!"

He admired their adaptability and high morale, but both sides were nearing their limits. However, if Roy had one advantage, it was the threat of the Black Snake looming behind—even if the "Witch of Melancholy" and her group could break Roy, they still had to deal with this vicious demon beast. In other words, they couldn't afford to exhaust themselves against Roy. He added that circumstance—the fact that they couldn't give their all—as a pinch of seasoning to the dish—

"——This is the moment of 'Erosion,' not just a turning point!!"

The Black Snake's massive body pierced the heavens again, standing by for the filth to pour down like a torrential rain. As the "Witch of Melancholy" and the others braced themselves all at once, he unleashed "Memories." That was—

"——『Eclipse: Coruscating Stars』"

It was neither "Solar Eclipse" nor "Lunar Eclipse," but a new, original table manner of Roy Alphard's that he showered upon them.

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—God, Buddha, Od Laguna. I vow, for the rest of my life, never to wish upon the stars with anyone again.

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In an instant, what surged across the battlefield were parts of the many "Memories" that Roy Alphard had consumed but found no value in remembering—what could be called "coarse meals."

After his experience at the Pleiades Watchtower, "Bad Eating" had reformed his consciousness regarding his food-hunting activities. Gratitude to all ingredients, and respect for all encounters. —There are no bad ingredients in this world. He had simply been a person with a dull palate who didn't understand their deliciousness.

For example, there are poisonous fish. But if the poisonous internal organs of that fish are handled properly, one can enjoy a delicacy far greater than the poison itself. The same was true for "Gluttony's" prey. There were no ingredients in this world that were useless from head to tail, with no value in tasting. Every ingredient has parts that can be used. —So, he used them.

"——『Memories of Pain』"

If one has lived a normal life, anyone would have one or two memories of pain so intense they could barely stand it. Roy extracted such numerous "Memories of Pain" from the "Soul's Stomach" he had accumulated, blended them, and scattered them toward the battlefield before him. —They were not something visible. Therefore, there was no way to dodge them. It was a blasphemous act of forcing a concept upon the opponent.

Of course, even if he struck them with "Memories of Pain," it wouldn't act directly upon the opponent. Since they were literally "Memories" they had no recollection of, there was no room for the prey to experience that pain just by being hit with it. If so, what would happen? —It would simply trigger a chain reaction of remembering approximate "Memories."

"—Ah."

At first, a faint voice leaked from the group. Until then, they were people who had raised brave voices, with courage and resolve in their expressions, hiding a spirit that met every obstacle head-on—truly worthy of being called warriors. From their lips, not a war cry, nor each other's names, but a high-pitched sound leaked out.

"Ah, ah, a, aaaaaaa——!!"

And once it started leaking, it knew no end. Eyes wide, mouths agape, they clutched the parts of their bodies that had become the source of the screams they didn't want to make, letting out blood-curdling shrieks. And it wasn't just one person. Everyone on the scene began to scream.

"「————!!」"

The "Memories of Pain" that Roy had scattered all at once made the bodies of those within the conceptual range remember approximate pains they had experienced, as if they were happening at this very moment. Could they endure a pain they had experienced once in the past? —The answer was no. A pain that was unbearable in the past is unbearable in the present or the future.

"Gah—"

Voiceless cries were raised one after another by Felt, Ram, Old Man Rom, Meili, Flam, Glacis, Gaston, Rachins, Doltero, and the Apostles who had been called to the battlefield by the power of "Melancholy." No one could withstand it. Above all, the one who screamed the loudest was—

——Petra!!

It was none other than Petra Leyte, who was made to experience even the various pains that had brought Natsuki Subaru to his "Death," her jaw jerking as if in a convulsion.

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—God, Buddha, Od Laguna. I vow, for the rest of my life, never to make an appointment to meet anyone again.

△▼△▼△▼△

——Petra!!

Hearing the desperate cry of the imaginary Subaru, Petra felt a sense of relief that he, the illusion she was seeing, didn't have to experience this pain—no, she didn't. She couldn't. Such luxury did not exist for Petra Leyte as she experienced the pain of "Death."

"—Ah."

A raspy breath leaked out. It hurts. It hurts. It hurtsithurtsithurts. It hurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts——.

"—Ee."

The sliced stomach hurts. The crushed eyes hurt. The pierced chest hurts. The back that was stabbed by a passerby hurts. The finger cut by poor knife handling hurts. The chapped skin from water chores hurts. The head suddenly smashed hurts. The body hurting from torture accompanied by the sound of chains. The throat gouged by the wind hurts. The sharp rock collided with after jumping off hurts. The body and soul hurting from being beaten to a pulp. The hands and feet hurting from training where someone held back to save face. The frozen and torn-off fingers and ankles hurt. The licked eyeball is disgusting and hurts. The wrists hurt from having the shackles frozen and shattered. Kneeling on the freezing ground, everywhere creaks and hurts. The body hurts from being pushed off by a confused Otto. After that, being chased by the White Whale, running around pathetically, it hurts. Being frozen in ice, the soul hurts in the extreme cold. Having the life force run wild to force a decision for a mercy kill hurts. Being stabbed in the chest for a mercy kill hurts. The heart being gripped by the confession of "Return by Death" hurts. Being gripped by the persistently pursuing Authority of "Sloth" hurts. Stabbing her own throat out of fear of losing Rem hurts. The stomach hurting from a disembowelment after several months. The whole body struck by rubble, arms sliced to pieces, and finally being devoured all over hurts. Being toyed with by a beast, and having the whole body bitten off again hurts. Finally, stabbing her own throat again, it hurts, it hurts, it hurtsithurtsithurts.

"—Oo."

Petra! Petra! No, don't go, Petra!!

Pain dominates her mind. The contents of her body, her head, her heart—everything should have been filled with ■■■, but everything is being painted over by pain. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, there isn't a place in her body that doesn't feel pain. Everywhere, everything that forms her becomes pain, and she is made of pain in order to experience pain, and the pain is pained, and the paining is painpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpain——.

"—Eh."

Her vision is dyed bright red, her own voice, which is too loud, sounds like a ringing in her ears, the sharp smell of blood is in the back of her nose, a lot of saliva that tastes like death comes out of her mouth, and all of her skin is bristling with an unbearable impact. Once again, the suffering of ■■■・■■■, which she could never have understood in a true sense just by reading the "Book of the Dead," clearly sinks into ■■■・■■■. Through that pain, ■■■・■■■ truly, literally, feels ■■■・■■■. The pain paints over both the outside and inside of ■■■・■■■, and in the midst of it, she feels it.

"—Oh."

All the pain she tasted was connected to the memories of remorse accompanied by a sense of staggering loss of ■■■・■■■, of Na■■・■ba■, of Na■ki・Suba■——of Natsuki Subaru.

"————"

It hurt. He let Emilia die. It hurt. He let Felt die. It hurt. He let Old Man Rom die. It hurt. He let Rem die. It hurt. He let everyone in Arlam Village die. It hurt. He let Ram die. It hurt. He let Frederica die. It hurt. He let Petra die. It hurt. He let Beatrice die. It hurt. He let Otto die. It hurt. He let Roswaal die. It hurt. He let Ryuzu die. It hurt. He let Garfiel die. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. ——It was frustrating.

"It's frustrating."

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. ——So what.

"I don't want to lose."

Even if it hurts, even if it's painful, being sad and frustrated is much harder. I love everyone, and I can't give up on everyone. And I love you, who loves everyone and can't give up on them, so I can't give up. So—

"——Who do you think I am?"

■■■・■■■ is, Pe■ra・■ey■e is, Pet■a・Leyte is——Petra Leyte is a quick learner, talented, a bundle of potential, promising, and her future is bright. That person, those people, believe in Petra like that. ——Then, that's what I'll do.

"I can do it."

You should be able to do it, Petra Leyte. If it's to keep everyone who said I could do it from being liars. Or were they all liars who believed in a weak, miserable Petra who couldn't do anything?

"There's no way that's true."

I can do it. I should be able to. If I say I can, I won't just say it, I'll do it. I'll do it. Do it. I can do it. Do it now. Do it immediately. Now! Look, do it, do it——I'll do it!!

"Compression... no."

With the power of the Authority of "Melancholy," I will Compress. Just as I Compressed distance, travel time, thinking time, and consultation time, I will now Compress the terrifying moment falling upon Petra and the others.

Pain is such a terrifying thing. Even a tiny bit of pain makes your eyes tear up, a slightly sharp pain makes you unable to sleep at night, and a heavy, dull pain might even affect the rest of your life. Whether it's tiny, sharp, or dull, the time spent experiencing pain feels long.

That time, which makes a second feel like ten, an hour feel like half a day, and a day feel like eternity—I will Compress it.

"Everyone, grit your teeth." ...It'll only take a second, but a hundred times the pain is coming——!!

She didn't say it might be ten thousand times. Whether she said it or not, whether they were mentally prepared or not, what she had to do wouldn't change.

"——『Compress Agony』"

The power of the "Witch of Melancholy," which had ascended to a new stage, was released.

△▼△▼△▼△

—God, Buddha, Od Laguna. I vow, for the rest of my life, never to regret parting with someone again.

△▼△▼△▼△

"————"

The new technique he had unveiled had undoubtedly exploded, cracking the perfect coordination of his prey. While hearing the roar of the wind as the Black Snake's body, made of filth filled with evil poison, fell over, the pandemonium of various screams, shrieks, and cries was delivered from beyond. All of it sounded so painful and agonizing that if he had time, Roy would have spent the whole night weeping for them, then put those feelings into a poem and set it adrift on a river.

But there was no time. Nor did he have the education to write poetry, so it wouldn't have been any good anyway. But it was true that he felt pity for them. He had no grudge against them. No hatred. There wasn't even a mix of love and hate; there was only simple love. Who would want to see their beloved ones suffering and screaming? That would only be a spice for enjoying their lives. Spice isn't the staple food. Making it the main dish is something only a madman would do.

"We wouldn't do something so terrible, after all."

Due to the "Eclipse: Coruscating Stars" which caused a chain reaction of "Memories of Pain," the actions of the prey were severed. All that remained was the downpour of the Black Snake's filth—since this head was in charge of "Old Age Suffering," it wouldn't take their lives. It would seal their thoughts and actions, holding them endlessly at the brink of death. After that, it would be just like a wine cellar. He would wait for the time of maturation until the right moment to drink and unravel their True Names arrived. He heard that the brink where they were held had no escape, and the suffering and darkness continued without limit, but in the end, the pain they tasted would all be contained within Roy and lost, so it should be fine. Tasting, licking, and savoring such bitterness was also part of food-hunting.

"Ah, even though I can't eat them right now, seeing ripe fruit is—"

Just as he was about to say it was hard, Roy's words were interrupted. It wasn't that there was a counterattack. Rather, it was the opposite. The prey raised a shriek so intense, so loud, it pierced the chest with its agony. A volume that wouldn't be strange to take as a death rattle. For a moment, Roy's eyes widened, but thinking that it was a sign of his plan's further success—

"——It huuuuuurts! Live stroooooongly!!" "「——Liiiiiiive!!」"

Immediately after, an impossible reaction and unity denied the end that was supposed to swallow the prey.

△▼△▼△▼△

—God, Buddha, Od Laguna. I vow, for the rest of my life, never to walk with someone at sunset again.

△▼△▼△▼△

In an instant, Felt experienced a hellish pain, as if her entire skin had been peeled off and Reinhard was scrubbing her with a metal brush soaked in plenty of salt water.

"Iu."

It was the first time she had felt as if her internal organs had been turned inside out from pain. The corner of her head was numb, and she even had the illusion that the blood in her body was flowing backward. She didn't know what had happened. —No, she did. Petra had done something.

"What a hell of a brat..."

Felt quietly praised the struggle of the girl who wasn't much different from her in height. She knew that in the discussion that had been so incredibly compressed until now, Petra had been leading the mixed army with outstanding coordination with Old Man Rom. This was an amazing story. After all, Old Man Rom was the smartest and most reliable person in the world, so Petra must undoubtedly be a genius. That genius had done something beyond imagination and crushed something of the opponent's.

"Even so, you've got some damn bad luck."

What Felt saw as she twisted her cheek was a small shadow at the edge of her vision—Cambury. Unlike Gaston, who had been in the fight from the start, and Rachins, who had joined halfway through, Cambury had joined at the perfect moment, fully prepared. —And at that very moment, that incredibly painful thing had been unleashed, so it was beyond just bad luck. However—

"—You've got no luck, but you're the best."

Felt snatched the item held by Cambury, whose eyes were tearing up. —The "Star Staff," which could be the camp's trump card.

She would fire it. With all of Felt's might, gathering all the strength in her body, putting everything she had into it. The rest was—

"Where to blast it!"

△▼△▼△▼△

—God, Buddha, Od Laguna. I vow, for the rest of my life, never to step on the shadow of the person walking beside me again.

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"——It huuuuuurts! Live stroooooongly!!" "「——Liiiiiiive!!」"

Screams and roars, so loud it was no longer clear which was the demon beast's cry, thundered across the area, and the Black Snake's body, which seemed to bundle a thousand calamities, was pushed back by a blast from directly below. A torrent of light and darkness raged across the battlefield, and a shock that seemed to rend the heavens scorched Roy's entire body with surprise.

What happened? How did they do it? —He would leave all of that unquestioned.

"Petra-chaaan!"

He knew exactly who had done it, and Roy Alphard was ecstatic. It was amazing. It deserved a standing ovation. Together with the many "Memories" inside him, he had to give her a thunderous round of applause.

Just how much of herself did she have to sacrifice to make the Witch Factor of "Melancholy" do that? He speculated and surmised that unless she let go of every bit of ordinary happiness, she couldn't have realized this battlefield, this close a contest, and that level of high-handedness.

—I want to be happy.

That should be the absolute, immortal, immovable, and inseparable wish of a human being. That should be an absolute prayer that doesn't change even for Roy—no, even for Ley, even for Louis, even for the Sin Archbishops, even for villains, even for criminals. They live for that. But to let go of that, just for this situation...

"————"

Drying his eyes, which were moist with joy, with a single blink, Roy saw Felt snatching the white staff from her companion. At this critical moment, since a demi-human who seemed to have almost no combat power had gone to the trouble of bringing it, it must be a special secret weapon. In other words—

"If that fails, I wonder if you'll cry!?"

Rainbow-colored butterflies danced, spears of fire and ice rained down, blood scythes were released from all directions, a compression that crushed front and back instead of left and right began, and a boyish soprano sang a curse.

"Protect Felt!!"

The wind cut down every single butterfly, magic bullets of ice and fire smashed the spears of fire and ice, thick muscles took the blood scythes while being sliced, a sudden double strike pierced the earth pressing in from front and back, and the giant bodies of an old man and a pigman blocked the cursed song that would collapse flesh and blood.

"Splendid! But—"

His wave-like attacks were blocked by their ironclad coordination, but Roy didn't lose heart. The "Teleportation" he had held back until now was activated, and in an instant, Roy appeared in the middle of Felt's group. His target was not Felt—but,

"These two are also key, right?"

Among those who stood to intercept him, he aimed for the backs of the two girls who had no strength left to stand. The "Witch of Melancholy" and the "Beast Master"—both were indispensable parts of the opposing force to keep the battle against "Gluttony" and the "Black Snake" in balance. No one's hand could reach Roy, who stood behind the two. Licking his lips, Roy harbored "Fist King" in his right hand and "Snow Eater" in his left, and gently—

—In an instant, Meili's hair squirmed, and a white light shot through Roy's left eye.

"Gyau!?"

Pierced by the sensation of being scorched by heat, Roy's left field of vision was lost. Wondering what had happened, Roy opened his remaining eye wide, and in his vision, the clever move that had crushed his left eye—a tiny scorpion hidden in Meili's hair—came into view. An existence he didn't know. A trump card, a hidden card, that wasn't in his "Memories." Long live the total war.

"Even such a small ally—"

He was about to continue, saying how devotedly it was doing its best, but he couldn't. Faster than that, the ground he stepped on betrayed him and launched him into the air without warning.

"————"

It wasn't magic. He didn't feel the wavelength of mana. Then was it the "Witch of Melancholy" again? —No, even she didn't have eyes in the back of her head. What happened was an upheaval of the earth. Without a sign, without coordination, it had bounced.

"—Good grief, my comrades are just too damn reliable."

The voice that suddenly reached him was a sharp one that he had far too many clues about in his "Memories." A voice that was far too dependable, and therefore shouldn't have been heard—the one who responded to the earth with his soles and became an iron wall that no one could beat as long as his feet were on the ground.

Spinning, Roy, who had been launched into the air, saw the ground upside down in his vision and worked to make the demon beast of the pestilence squirming there go wild. Unlike before, there was distance between him and Roy. His blood armor was peeling off, but if the filth was scattered like rain, the prey's hands would be occupied dealing with it.

"Sit!!"

A cry like a sob momentarily disrupted the Black Snake's movements. But the time it stopped was less than a blink. Even if that time was taken away, Roy's intentions wouldn't be thwarted—in an instant, the snake-like body of the demon beast that was about to stretch toward the heavens exploded. Exploding and scattering filth, a single shadow tumbled out onto that polluted ground.

"Buha! Cough, hack, wheeze..."

"No way."

Roy was speechless, struck by a shock that couldn't be explained by being stubborn or clinging to life, as he saw the red-haired man coughing and falling into the most hideous pool of filth in the world. Why was he alive? Roy's stomach growled involuntarily at the question and the surging appetite.

"Hey, look over here."

With a light leap, a blonde boy caught up to Roy in mid-air, gnashing his sharp fangs and swinging a fist clad in a silver gauntlet with great exaggeration. If that strike landed, Roy, who was in a half-dead state, wouldn't stand a chance. Even though he knew it was only a momentary stall, Roy chose to retreat, activating "Lunar Eclipse" to once again benefit from the supernatural power of the "Leaper"—

"Bu."

—His concentration was disrupted by the collision of a Zodda bug that flew in from his left blind spot.

"————"

As his gaze was drawn by the annoying buzzing and the unpleasant sensation, he saw a light-blue ground dragon leaning against the trees dozens of meters away, and the figure of the man who should have been empty, leaning his body against it. The man pointed a finger here, and when he noticed their gazes had crossed, he smiled. As if to say, "Gotcha."

Immediately after, the wind roared, and a fist wrapped in wind pressure was launched straight at Roy. It seemed strangely slow, as if there was time before it reached him—and he realized.

"Is Petra-chan doing this?"

"Yes. I thought I'd say it at the very end. Serves you right."

The "Witch of Melancholy" standing on the ground declared her victory to Roy within the stretched-out time. In response, there seemed to be nothing left for Roy to do. The fist of the enraged tiger was approaching, only five coins' distance away. What could he do in the time until that direct hit? He thought and had a flash of inspiration.

"Amazing, amazing, you're quite something, Petra-chan. But, didn't you sacrifice too much to win?"

"Sore loser? No one on our side has been taken down. You're pathetic for a Sin Archbishop."

"Against the 'Witch of Melancholy,' I'm helpless. But sacrifice isn't just about life. It's about the future, hope, possibilities, things like that. We're truly worried that Petra-chan's long, long life ahead will be a lonely one."

Four coins left. At the very least, he would dig up the price she wanted to hide and carve himself into her with that pain. At such a malicious food-hunting act of Roy's, Petra blinked and looked puzzled. There was no way she could have been paying the price without knowing it, yet her reaction was—

"—Could it be that you're mistaken?"

"Mistaken?"

"That's strange. I thought Otto-san would have said it. —Something like, 'The enemy this time is the whole world.'"

"————"

Three coins left. He hadn't been told directly. But such a determination was in the "Memories." Considering Aldebaran's actions and the damage he had caused, it could be said that it was a legitimate perception. However, that should have been nothing more and nothing less.

"No way..."

"That 'no way.'"

Two coins left. In his stretched-out senses, he couldn't do something as luxurious as gasping, but Roy gasped with his mental throat and looked at her as she smiled softly, like a "Witch." The girl who shouldn't have been compatible with the Witch Factor was, however, undoubtedly the "Witch of Melancholy." Because—

"The Witch Factor of 'Melancholy' can be used by anyone if they pay the price, and the price can be paid by anyone as long as it's balanced. —So, everyone in the Royal Capital is paying it."

"————"

"Then, I'll say it one more time. —Take that!"

One coin left. Because Roy didn't know of any existence that had abused the Witch Factor of "Melancholy" to this extent. If this wasn't the "Witch of Melancholy," then what was?

"—Ah, thank you for the feast!"

Zero coins left. —The blow of the "Gorgeous Tiger" exploded.

"————"

It ruthlessly smashed Roy's face and knocked him down toward the ground where the Black Snake writhed. Just before his small frame plunged straight into the filth—

"—Blast away!!"

The staff shining in the hands of the shouting Felt released a white light that painted over the world. It became an unerring, inescapable strike of judgment, swallowing those who were the followers of wickedness.

—That was the final act of "Bad Eating's" food-hunting.