Arc 10, Part 13: "Cannot be Stained with Blood"

The mansion owned by Microtov McMahon—a member of the Council of Sages—located in the noble district of the Royal Capital, Lugnica, had a subdued exterior that reflected the character of its master, a man known for his integrity and simple lifestyle.

While many nobles favored evening parties and banquets, frequently hosting such events to boast of their power, Microtov never chose such typical aristocratic behavior. The wise elder, who had distinguished himself as a civil official of the kingdom from a young age and whose abilities were highly valued, had never taken a wife. Instead, he had devoted his entire life to the kingdom, working himself to the bone as if to demonstrate his total commitment.

Consequently, the McMahon estate in the noble district had never once been dominated by eye-catching flashiness—at least, until this very moment.

A scene of carnage where many lives had been cruelly cut short, where scattered remains drifted with the scent of blood and death—this was the moment that also brought the life of Microtov McMahon to an end.

Stunned, Natsuki Subaru stood frozen before the unbelievable sight.

"————"

He had been invited, yet he had not encountered a single living soul since entering the McMahon estate. He had witnessed the bodies of thirteen people—likely the mansion's guards and servants—all of whom had been cut down and killed with a single blow. Finally, he had reached this innermost room.

Judging by the desk and bookshelves, this was likely Microtov’s office. A historic place where the wise elder, grieving for the kingdom's future, must have racked his brain to deal with various problems—and there, against the far wall, leaned the man himself.

With his legs sprawled out and his back against the wall, he looked like a child who had fallen asleep after playing too hard. In a broad sense, that description wasn't wrong. The wise elder was indeed asleep—covered by a slashed flag of Lugnica, in a slumber from which he would never wake.

And beside the deceased elder—

"Crusch... san...?"

Microtov had collapsed, his wrinkled eyelids closed. With him still at her feet, the person who turned halfway to look back at Subaru made his voice tremble pathetically.

Standing there was a beautiful woman dressed in dark blue, military-style attire, with long green hair and amber eyes—Crusch Karsten, her left eye covered by a large eyepatch. She stood with a composed air, a person Subaru knew well.

"————"

In response to Subaru’s faltering call, Crusch narrowed her single amber eye. She tightened her grip on the slender sword in her hand, her gaze remaining sharp as she opened her thin lips.

"A wind of fear is blowing, Natsuki Subaru. —What is it you fear?"

"Fe...ar...? I’m afraid? That’s..."

"To begin with, what did you come here to do? Was there some personal connection between you and Microtov McMahon?"

"That’s... I was called by him, and I had things I wanted to ask..."

"On this day? That is incomprehensible. And what is it you wished to ask? Something regarding the Royal Selection, or perhaps another secret meeting? I have not struck the mark, yet your agitation only causes the wind to grow stronger. I shall ask you once more. —Are you the 'real' one I know?"

"—!"

Overwhelmed by Crusch’s relentless interrogation, Subaru couldn't find the words to respond. Still unable to process the information before him, Crusch’s sharp tongue pressed against him like a blade.

Crusch continued to pierce Subaru’s chest with her stern gaze, but—

"—That’s enough." "Yeah, this isn't exactly pleasant to watch."

Unable to stand the exchange between Subaru and Crusch, two people stepped in. One was Beatrice, who was holding Subaru’s hand, and the other was Tiga, who had accompanied them.

Beatrice, through the sensation of her small hand, and Tiga, by stepping forward diagonally to block Crusch’s line of sight, both helped the overwhelmed Subaru return to his senses. Thanks to them, Subaru remembered to breathe, the heat of his cold sweat finally cooling.

In the meantime, Tiga, holding his crescent-shaped curved sword, faced Crusch. He lowered the brim of his hat to hide his eyes and spoke.

"You should realize that this situation is very prone to misunderstandings, Duchess."

"Misunderstandings?"

"That’s right, misunderstandings. After all, this is a scene where so many have lost their lives, including a high-ranking official of the kingdom. If you’re standing there holding a sword, anyone would think the same thing. —That the one who killed everyone in this house was Duchess Crusch Karsten."

Though he maintained his usual way of speaking, it was a direct question. And it was the fact that Subaru, above all else, wanted to confirm.

"————"

Tiga was right. In this tragedy at the McMahon estate, Crusch was undoubtedly the prime suspect for the massacre of everyone, including the master, Microtov. However, Subaru, knowing Crusch’s character, wanted to deny that suspicion with everything he had.

Crusch was a person of integrity, a great individual capable of acting based on righteous judgment. Even after losing her "memories" and having to rebuild her dignified noble persona, the goodness at her core and her human common sense were things even "Gluttony" could never fully devour. It was impossible for such a woman to have a hand in such an atrocity. It simply couldn't be.

That was why Subaru wanted to hear a clear denial from her lips. He wanted her to say that she, like them, had noticed something wrong at the McMahon estate and rushed over, only to find it was too late. He wanted to find the person who killed Microtov and the others together with her, fueled by that shared regret and anger, and make them pay.

He waited for those words of denial to come from her—

"You seem to be a remarkably brazen sort."

Ignoring Subaru’s silent prayer, Crusch stared at Tiga without changing her expression. In response, Tiga gave a light shrug.

"A harsh evaluation, but I’ll take it. So, how about it?"

"————"

"Was it you who killed Lord Microtov McMahon? —Duchess Crusch Karsten."

"—It was."

To Tiga’s repeated, direct question, there was a short response. It was the worst possible answer—an affirmation of the suspicion that betrayed Subaru’s prayer-like expectations. Subaru’s throat involuntarily made a raspy sound, and that short reply echoed in his skull over and over. As if to push Subaru’s intense agitation further, Crusch slightly lowered her chin.

"I cut down the people involved in this house and Microtov McMahon with my own hand. These people were rebels who bore ill will toward the kingdom."

"—That would be you, Duchess!"

"Wai—!"

In an instant, Tiga roared and closed the distance in a single leap, swinging his curved sword—a shamshir—unleashing a fluid strike at Crusch. Without giving Subaru a chance to say "Wait," he launched a decisive opening blow. However, Crusch parried it with an upward swing of her sword, the pleasant ring of steel clashing against steel echoing through the office. With that single sound as the trigger, the screams of steel and bursts of sparks began to erupt between the two.

"————"

The clashing of blades began, and the two warriors showcased their skills on the stage of the wide office. Crusch wielded her sword with the techniques of one who had sincerely devoted themselves to the blade. Whether in the battle against the White Whale before she lost her "memories," or in the battle at Pristella after she lost them, the straightness of her sword strokes remained unchanged. Her sharp flashes of steel swept through the space in all directions, leaping about.

On the other hand, Tiga’s swordplay, keeping his body low and spinning like a top, was unique. Compared to Crusch, or the other masters of the blade Subaru knew—like Julius, Wilhelm, or Cecilus—Tiga’s style was different. Aside from Reinhard, who gave a stronger impression of hand-strikes and kicks than a sword, they were all swordsmen who had polished what could be called "orthodox" techniques. If their swordplay was the "Righteous Path," Tiga’s was what would be called "Heretical"—a technique of one who greedily sought victory, favoring striking the hands or feet without mercy, mixing truth and falsehood to catch the enemy off guard.

"Seah—!"

A strike released with a sharp shout—it was a flash of the shamshir held in a reverse grip, approaching the opponent from an unusual trajectory. When Crusch leaned back to dodge it, Tiga’s long leg followed, snapping like a whip. The kick, woven between the sword strikes, functioned as part of a dance-like sequence of movements, creating a ceaseless wind of blades that assaulted Crusch.

Against this high-speed, spinning barrage, Crusch maintained her distance with quick and precise footwork, her expression unchanged. She used her single sword to match him, aiming to seize control of the dizzying offense and defense. Perhaps he had steel plates in his shoes, for Crusch’s sword didn't cut his legs when she met his kicks. Against Crusch, who had reached the pinnacle of the orthodox style, the heretical swordsman showed a fighting stance that didn't give an inch.

"You are skilled. Does the 'Holy Dragon Church' teach such a way of wielding the sword?"

"Unfortunately, it’s self-taught. I’ve had bad habits with my hands and feet for a long time!"

"A brave wind. You are not lying."

Crusch dodged Tiga’s kick by a hair’s breadth and launched a vertical overhead strike. Tiga caught it with his reverse-gripped curved sword, and the two exchanged words as their blades locked. It was a back-and-forth struggle; because both were exceptionally talented, the advantage didn't lean toward either side—

"—Subaru! Pull yourself together, I suppose!"

"—Ah."

"It’s natural to be shocked. But you can't just stand there dazed, I suppose!"

Saying this, Beatrice hopped up and slapped Subaru’s cheek, making his eyes widen. At the stinging impact, Subaru realized once again that he had stopped thinking and was merely staring at the fight between Tiga and Crusch. He was deeply grateful to Beatrice. He was certainly in shock. Looking at the situation calmly, it didn't seem like he could maintain his composure. That was why, before he could calmly face the situation, he had to do what needed to be done.

"My friend."

Looking over, Subaru saw Tiga’s lips move slightly as he pushed his sword against Crusch’s, keeping Subaru and Beatrice in the corner of his eye. Though the call had no direct object, Subaru sensed Tiga’s intention. What he sought was not assistance or backup, but—

"—Outside."

He had to report this situation and stop Crusch’s atrocity. Fortunately, there were many powerful allies Subaru could rely on in the Royal Capital right now. Garfiel and Wilhelm were there, and even Reinhard. Since this was the noble district, there should be knights or guards stationed at other mansions besides the McMahon estate. He would call them and restrain Crusch. And then—

"————"

—And then, would he punish Crusch? As a traitor who killed Microtov?

"I’ll have you stay. I haven't finished assessing you yet."

The moment a lingering hesitation crossed the back of his mind, a wind of blades raced over Subaru’s head. "Whoa!?" Subaru instinctively ducked. The wind, grazing the tips of his standing hair, struck the upper part of the room directly behind him. The vacuum blade destroyed the ceiling and walls around the entrance, the resulting collapse burying the room's exit.

"The escape route...!"

The moment he realized it was sealed, Subaru was forced to understand that his options had been whittled down, and his hand was far too weak.

"—!"

The fact that the escape route was blocked meant the option to leave this place was gone. In this heated battle, there was no time to slowly move rubble and secure a retreat. Beatrice’s Yin magic, Minya, lacked physical destructive power, so they couldn't expect to blow the entrance open all at once. In other words, the only choices left for Subaru and the others were to watch or to intervene—and in this situation, just watching was absolutely not an option. But intervening meant—

"—Are we going to fight? With Crusch-san?"

It made no sense. He couldn't understand reality. He couldn't accept what he was seeing with his eyes.

Because, after all, that was Crusch Karsten. Subaru respected her. Even if they were in opposing camps in the Royal Selection, her virtue was something that had to be acknowledged. Crusch was noble and upright, an excellent leader who never lacked in effort or diligence. In terms of "kingly qualities," she was the first person to truly fascinate Subaru. When she acknowledged his achievement in subjugating the White Whale, the weight that moment held in Natsuki Subaru’s life was something no one could deny, and he wouldn't let them.

He had prioritized his love for Emilia. But at that time, Subaru had certainly thought it: Crusch Karsten was undoubtedly someone fit to be the King of the Lugnica Kingdom.

"—Please stop this, Crusch-san!"

Therefore, the choice Subaru made was what could only be called his most spineless card.

"————"

Crusch, engaged in the fierce swordfight, did not respond to Subaru’s cracking plea. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead on Tiga, who stood against her. But believing she couldn't ignore him, Subaru raised his voice.

"Put down your sword! Please! I don't know what to do! I don't know, but I’ll talk to you! I’ll try to talk so we can work something out!"

Before he knew it, the hand not held by Beatrice was tightly, tightly gripping the black orb hanging from his neck. —There were many words he hadn't been able to exchange with Al, and he had been forced to suppress Al's will. Priscilla’s death, which had triggered Al’s rampage, had carved into Subaru the weight of absolute loss—the inability to take back what was gone.

He might lose someone he knew without even being able to talk to them. —To the current Natsuki Subaru, that was far more terrifying than his own death.

"I don't want it to end like this! Like this... without knowing anything, I don't want to be separated from the people I like!"

"Subaru..."

"Please! I’m begging you! I’m asking you... please... stop it!"

Beatrice, her eyes trembling as she watched Subaru’s profile while he squeezed out his voice, bit her lip. He didn't know what kind of pained expression he was making. He was pathetic. Miserable. Even though he was the partner of the Great Spirit Beatrice, he couldn't use her wise and excellent power for anything, only able to scream like this.

"Please..."

Even knowing his own helplessness, Subaru couldn't choose. If he couldn't escape, he couldn't bring himself to the cold logic of fighting Crusch. There had been times before when his relationship with someone he met changed drastically. But in most of those cases, it meant a negative impression changed into a positive one. The only exceptions were Todd and Al. —He simply couldn't bear to add Crusch to that list.

"————"

Subaru’s clumsy, faltering plea was so faint it was almost drowned out by the intensifying swordfight. It was as if Subaru’s very existence in this battle was being disregarded, and his voice wouldn't even reach Crusch’s ears. However—

"—It seems there is no lie in your words."

"—!"

Hearing that murmur of conviction, Subaru snapped his eyes open. With Tiga positioned between them, Subaru’s eyes met Crusch’s across the heretical swordsman. Facing those amber eyes, Subaru felt a surge of hope that his words had reached her—

"In that case, I shall put you aside for now."

—In an instant, with Crusch at the center, a violent wind swept through the room.

"Wha—"

The moment his whole body felt the pressure, his feet left the ground. Subaru intuitively realized this was caused by the wind Crusch had stirred up—her signature technique, "One Sword, One Hundred Men," released in all directions without a fixed target. Normally, it was a powerful blade of wind released in a single direction. By spreading that pressure in all directions instead of focusing it, the resulting wind force mercilessly shook the battle-worn office, sending thick books, gathered documents, and even the body of the dead wise elder flying. But that was as far as Subaru’s grasp of the situation went.

"Gah—!"

His defenseless body slammed into the ceiling with tremendous force, knocking the breath out of him. He reflexively pulled his arms in, hugging Beatrice to his chest to protect her, but that was all he could do. Still tightly holding Beatrice as she screamed "Subaru!", Subaru’s body rode the wind and was slammed into the wall, before being thrown pathetically onto the floor without any chance to break his fall.

"—ugh."

Pressed by a creaking pain throughout his body, his last breath escaped his lungs. He felt a cold sensation spreading through the back of his head and intuitively knew it was bad. It wasn't "Death." But his consciousness was fading. This was the price of prioritizing Beatrice’s safety too much and neglecting himself. It felt as if a hole had opened in his head where he hit it, and his consciousness was flowing out from there. —Bad, bad, bad.

"No... way..."

If he lost consciousness now, who would speak to Crusch? Tiga didn't know. He didn't know Crusch’s character, that she was truly a person with a kind heart. He was misunderstanding her. He had to stop them. Crusch was a good person. If they talked, she would understand. Because if they talked, they could understand each other.

"...understand... because..."

So, please, don't close your ears to my words. —Continuing to pray until the very last moment as his consciousness drifted away, Subaru’s mind sank into the darkness.

Sinking—

"—It was."

"————"

The moment his consciousness suddenly awakened, Subaru almost lost his sense of balance. His brain couldn't understand the difference between himself just a moment ago and his current self, which had switched instantaneously. This affected his limbs, causing a moment of panic.

His feet were on the ground. It was obvious, but he was standing. Standing. Obvious. Was it really? Was standing the "obvious" state? It wasn't, which was why he was experiencing the sensation of the world being turned upside down—

"No."

What Subaru needed to focus on now wasn't the world being turned upside down. It was the cause of why he felt that way. And the cause went without saying. —Time had rewound.

"————"

Subaru, whose knees had almost buckled, saw the McMahon estate office before it had been violently trashed, and Microtov’s body embraced by the diagonally severed flag. In front of the body was the green-haired woman looking back halfway, and the back of the young man who had stepped half a pace ahead of Subaru. It was the confrontation between Crusch and Tiga. And this response had just happened—

"I cut down the people involved in this house and Microtov McMahon with my own hand. These people were rebels who bore ill will toward the kingdom."

It was the moment of that fatal affirmation to the question, the point of no return.

"—That would be you, Duchess!"

Before Subaru, whose blood froze in shock, Tiga let out a sharp shout and lunged forward. Tiga’s sword dance with the reverse-gripped shamshir began, a clash between the heretical and orthodox swordsmen as Crusch stood her ground to meet him. Witnessing the battle in the office, filled with the rhythmic clashing of steel and flying sparks, Subaru felt dizzy for a reason other than the initial loss of balance.

"No way... this is stupid..."

He put a hand to his mouth, a muffled voice leaking out. A shock as unstoppable as blood seeping from a wound was pounding the inside of Subaru’s head.

—It was "Return by Death." He had "Returned by Death."

Just before his consciousness cut out, what had blown Subaru away was the wind Crusch had created. He had slammed into the wall and ceiling, been thrown to the floor, and knocked unconscious. —The fact that Subaru had returned to this moment meant he had "Returned by Death" without ever waking up.

If Subaru’s life had been taken while he was unconscious in that situation, the one who did it was—

"—Subaru! Pull yourself together, I suppose!"

"—!"

"It’s natural to be shocked. But you can't just stand there dazed, I suppose!"

Beatrice pulled Subaru back to his senses with the same encouragement as before, though he was frozen for a different reason this time. She slapped his cheek with her small palm, and the pain and heat brought him back.

"Sorry, Beatrice."

Subaru stroked his slapped cheek with the back of his hand and gritted his teeth until they creaked. Even with "Death" in between, Subaru’s confusion and agitation in this situation hadn't faded one bit. Still, denying the events as a lie or screaming that he wouldn't accept them would lead to the same result. Without the courage to intervene in the fight between Crusch and Tiga, Subaru would die while screaming pathetic complaints. —He would let his life be plucked by Crusch’s hand.

"I can't."

He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let Crusch Karsten take Natsuki Subaru’s life. He couldn't let her nobility be tarnished just because he was weak. He must not let Crusch’s hands be stained with Subaru’s blood.

"Beako, lend me a hand."

"—! You don't even have to ask, I suppose!"

Due to the shock and panic, the puzzle pieces of his reason remained scattered. However, from those scattered pieces, Subaru grabbed the one that still held a clear shape and firmly squeezed back the hand of his partner, who inspired nothing but reliability.

The offense and defense continuing before his eyes—the battle between Crusch and Tiga—was a clash of equals, a true back-and-forth struggle. Knowing Crusch’s strength, Subaru wanted to marvel at Tiga’s ability to display comparable sword power. However, in the current situation, Crusch, who possessed the decisive move—"One Sword, One Hundred Men"—held a clear advantage. Whether Tiga knew this or not, he chose a tactic of closing the distance, not giving Crusch time to weave the wind. However, Subaru knew from personal experience that even during that swordplay, Crusch was accumulating the wind to overturn the situation. Therefore—

"Don't rely on magic, my friend!"

"I can't use it anyway, my friend!"

Whether it was reliable or not, there was a voice responding to his call, and Subaru pulled his arms up, hugging Beatrice to his chest. Then, from a distance where their cheeks almost touched, the two of them kept their eyes firmly on the same battle—

""—E.M.T!!""

Their overlapping chants simultaneously deployed an invisible field centered on Subaru and Beatrice—an original technique, E.M.T, which acted as "anti-magic magic," unraveling and neutralizing constructed mana formulas to negate their effects. Within this field, not only was it impossible to use magic, but even "metia" or magical tools fueled by mana would malfunction and become useless. According to Beatrice, the story would change if someone adapted to the "useless" state and wove a formula, but...

"I can easily create enough of an opening to slap a surprised Roswaal’s face, I suppose!"

"Not to mention if it’s their first time seeing it... they’ll be like, 'What the hell?!'"

The effect of the deployed field swallowed not only Subaru and the others but also the two clashing swordsmen, dragging them under its influence. As he had claimed, E.M.T did not affect Tiga’s non-magical tactics, but the same couldn't be said for Crusch, who was weaving wind as her trump card. Crusch, who seemed to have been bracing herself for whatever was coming from Subaru’s chant, flicked her single eye toward them at the impact the E.M.T field had on her. —Subaru had locked eyes with Crusch before "Returning by Death" as well. His expectations had been betrayed then, and he had lost his life in vain, but—

"Surrender, Crusch-san! I’ve removed your path to victory! You can't use 'One Sword, One Hundred Men'! I won't let you! This is the end!"

Subaru smothered his trembling voice with bravado, projecting an unbending, strong will. He had learned that reality wouldn't change through weakness, tearful voices, or pained pleas. What was needed here and now were powerful words strong enough to convey his will to the opponent. He had to put his soul into his words. —From the bottom of his heart, he had to completely deceive the opponent and himself.

Make her believe that Natsuki Subaru was someone not worth fighting.

"————"

Subaru’s black eyes and Crusch’s amber single eye stared each other down. During that time, their swords clashed once more with great force, and the swordplay between Crusch and Tiga came to a halt. Tiga, holding his curved sword and standing in a half-profile stance, remained in a position to protect Subaru and Beatrice behind him.

"And so my friend advises. If I were to add anything, I’d guess that this friend was also a friend to you... why not listen to him?"

"Tiga..."

"To be blunt, I don't have the power to unilaterally take your sword and subdue you. If I try to restrain you, I have to be prepared to get cut, and in the worst case, I’ll die. That’s not what I, or the two behind me, want."

Tiga’s gaze as he spoke was vigilant, watching Crusch’s every move. Perhaps from his perspective, he had joined Subaru’s plan thinking it would be a bonus if it created even a single opening in Crusch. Even so, what Tiga conveyed had undoubtedly digested Subaru’s intent and made it easier to penetrate.

There was no way Tiga could know what had happened between Subaru and Crusch. If anything, if he knew about the Royal Selection, it would be natural for him to have a preconception that they were from opposing camps. However, from Subaru’s brief words and actions here, Tiga had inferred that his relationship with Crusch was by no means a simple one of opposition. Subaru took advantage of Tiga’s quick understanding. —He would restrain Crusch.

Once she was restrained, then he would figure it out. He would think of a way for everything to work out from there.

"I—"

"—Minya."

Just as Crusch was about to open her mouth, Beatrice, held by Subaru, held out her hand, and a violet-black glow pierced the ground at Crusch’s feet. The strike of the purple arrow at her toes caused the office floor to crystallize and crack.

"Refrain from any careless movements, I suppose. Within E.M.T, only Betty and Subaru are exceptions who can use magic. Can you handle us while dealing with that glib-tongued man, I suppose?"

"That 'glib-tongued' evaluation hurts, but you can use your own magic? That’s cheating."

"That’s the whole concept. But yeah, that’s how it is."

Subaru saw Crusch’s expression stiffen slightly at Beatrice’s threat, which asserted their advantage. It was the reaction of someone who, until now, hadn't counted Subaru and the others as a threat, but was now clearly including them as targets of caution. There was a pain in being seen that way. But if she thought they were a threat, it was a stroke of luck. If the odds were against her, she should be able to make a correct judgment—

"I see."

Crusch swung her sword in a casual motion, tracing a path through the empty air. It was an unexpected move, but she was likely testing the effects of E.M.T. When the expected wind didn't form and "One Sword, One Hundred Men" failed to activate, she gave a small nod. And then—

"—Natsuki Subaru, what is it you fear so much?"

Once again, Crusch’s question flew at him. However, this time was different from the first. He didn't let himself be swallowed by confusion; he gritted his teeth and endured.

"The result of the battle? The safety of yourself or those beside you? The future of the kingdom? Or perhaps—"

"————"

"—Or perhaps, my sanity?"

It was a question asked as if to make him understand. Even against that question, Subaru used every muscle in his face to maintain his current expression. He put everything into his face so that not a single bit of his weakness or hesitation would be conveyed to the opponent.

What did Crusch see in Subaru’s face, into which he had poured his entire soul? Crusch simply opened her thin lips and murmured.

"I see."

"Duchess, we’ve given our demands. How do you answer?"

Tiga asked Crusch again in a stern voice, as if intentionally ignoring the wordless storm of emotion that had arisen between Subaru and Crusch for a moment. The tension in his voice clearly signaled that this was the final ultimatum. Crusch, exposed to the once-again rising battle aura, looked at Tiga.

"I understand your demands. In this situation, I am at a disadvantage with my wind sealed. Therefore, you claim I should surrender."

"—Yes. From here on, Beako and I will join in. There’s no chance..."

"—It is premature to declare that there is 'no chance,' Natsuki Subaru."

Crusch spoke with a dignified tone that seemed to trample over Subaru’s bravado, slowly raising her left hand, which wasn't holding a sword. —Her slender fingers, encased in a white glove, touched the large eyepatch covering her left eye. The eyepatch that hid a large portion of the left side of her face—the part she had said was still not fully healed, even while being treated by the miracle power used by Philore for the effects of the "Dragon’s Blood." Subaru watched with wide eyes as she hooked her slender fingertips under it and peeled it off. Because—

"It is not a form I wish to show for long. —I am a woman, after all."

When Crusch said this, her left eye, revealed by the removal of the eyepatch, was glowing gold—unlike her original amber eye. Seeing the reptilian, narrow pupil and the lines of light running under the eye like capillaries, a certain phrase flashed through Subaru’s mind like a bolt of lightning.

"—Ah."

He didn't even know if it was correct. He just thought it, looking at Crusch’s current, non-human golden eye.

"————"

—That Crusch Karsten’s left eye had become a "Dragon’s Eye."