"I may look the part, but I am quite fond of books."
The girl seated in an opulent chair, one arm resting on its armrest, spoke these words with effortless poise.
In her other hand, she held an elaborately bound volume open to its latter half, her eyes gliding across the pages—there was something subtly different about her demeanor compared to before.
She wore a negligee-like garment with sleeves draped over her slender arms, a white cloth the same shade as the fabric draped over her shoulder. The generous curves of her voluptuous body were laid bare without the slightest restraint, and yet, with a man's gaze fixed upon her, she showed not the faintest awareness of her own exposure.
As though welcoming a guest were the furthest thing from her mind, she was utterly absorbed in the world of her book.
Subaru trod across the carpeted floor in his sneakers, abandoned and at a loss.
He had been let inside, but the owner of the room had no interest in him whatsoever. Every time he tried to force a conversation, he received nothing more than a curt opening remark.
Could it be—was she really telling him to wait until she finished reading, since she was almost done?
"Come on, even I can't accept that…"
He mentally rejected the thought sprouting in his mind, but watching her delicately turn pages only deepened his unease.
In truth, Subaru knew all too well that she was the sort of person capable of making such an unreasonable demand.
Hair the color of sunlight rendered in orange, crimson twin pupils that could burn everything they beheld to ash, skin so luminous it seemed to glow, and a figure rich with feminine curves.
The sheer beauty of her silently gazing at her book defied any language he possessed.
And yet—if that personality of hers had not been crafted specifically to ruin other people's moods, how unjust the heavens would have been to her.
The girl's name was
One of the candidates in the Royal Selection, and the next person Subaru had come seeking aid from.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Subaru learned of Reinhard's absence from the capital while staying at the mansion he had been using as lodging during his time in the city.
It was a secondary residence belonging to the Astrea family—Reinhard's birth family—managed by an elderly couple. According to them: "For the upcoming Royal Selection, Master Reinhard has returned to the main household, accompanied by Lady
The critical detail was that traveling between the capital and the Astrea main estate by dragon carriage took nearly four days. Reinhard had departed the capital two days ago, which meant he had not yet arrived.
Furthermore, upon learning the location of his family estate, the quickest route to the Maison territory was a minimum of five days—no matter how Subaru strained, Reinhard's participation in the coming battle was hopeless.
"Roswaal and Reinhard both…useless when it matters most…!"
After bidding farewell to the elderly couple and putting the residence out of sight, Subaru clutched his head.
The timing between these two was catastrophically bad. With a candidate who might have lent unconditional power now out of the equation, Subaru had truly lost all margin for error.
What stung even more than the refusal itself was that he hadn't factored in Reinhard's absence at all. Worse, the man had left two days ago—which meant even a Return by Death wouldn't put him in time to catch Reinhard before his departure.
If he wanted to enlist Reinhard's help, it could only be done in the first world—the one where he hadn't yet lived through the two days preceding the Return. But that Subaru, the one who'd wasted his days in blissful ignorance of the coming tragedy, would never have done it.
"There's no point wishing for what doesn't exist…Think, think, think, think, think, think, I… I don't have enough power, enough people, or enough time. Cranking my head is all I've got."
Spinning his thoughts at a feverish pitch, Subaru racked his brain for a backup plan.
If Crusch was a dead end and Reinhard was a dead end, then Subaru—knowing so few people in the capital—was left with almost no cards to play.
If the report of the
Above all, Subaru currently held no position that would allow him to make a direct appeal to the Kingdom's knights, and before even that, his standing with them was presumed to be abysmal.
During his duel in the training grounds with Julius, Subaru had been beaten to a pulp while the knights jeered and cheered. He had not forgotten the ugliness of those who whooped at his humiliation. He couldn't imagine them lending him a hand, nor did he want to ask.
—Having been abandoned by Crusch, whom he had believed was treating him sincerely, a vortex of suspicion toward others now churned within Subaru.
In truth, by the latter half of the training ground battle, the knights had largely stopped cheering—many had in fact frowned upon Julius's actions. But there was no way the Subaru of that moment could have perceived that, and even afterward, he'd been too consumed by his dealings with
In Subaru's mind, the knights remained irredeemable scoundrels worthy of scorn, and even if he swallowed his pride to beg them, he couldn't imagine they would listen with anything resembling sincerity.
So Subaru proceeded by pretending not to notice that he was narrowing his own options through his own past behavior, eyes bloodshot, desperately scheming for a backup plan.
If the Kingdom's knights were out, then the only people Subaru knew in the capital numbered exactly two. And one of them—the same reason applied as with the knights—bowing his head was utterly impossible.
That left only a single candidate.
"Subaru-kun, what do we do now?
"I'm fine. Leave it to me. Rem, you don't have to do anything. You don't have to. Just… stay behind me. Always."
Seeing Subaru deep in thought, Rem started to say something.
He cut her off, offering a feeble smile as he continued to think.
Placing Rem in harm's way was dangerous.
He knew she would throw herself into danger—and even sacrifice her life as a pawn—to protect him.
That was the consequence of his own actions in saving her and fostering her dependency, so he had to accept it. But having accepted it, he absolutely had to prevent any outcome that would result in losing her.
For that reason, Subaru stubbornly refused to let Rem step forward.
It had to be Subaru who acted. Otherwise, he couldn't protect Rem, couldn't save Emilia and the villagers, couldn't vent his hatred toward Petelgeuse— "Oh, wait…"
For a moment, he felt as though something terribly dangerous had crossed his mind, and he touched his temple.
Just now, it had almost seemed like he was prioritizing Petelgeuse's killing over Emilia and the others' rescue. Worse still, the notion that their survival had to come by his own hand—what was wrong with him?
A momentary lapse. The fact that he could recognize it as such proved Crusch's accusation was off the mark.
"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm doing the right thing. I am."
As if drilling it into himself, chewing each word, pretending not to see what he'd seen, sealing the abyss shut, Subaru affirmed himself.
He had to. If he didn't affirm it, he couldn't hold onto his sanity.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ The following morning, after spending the night at an inn, the two of them visited Priscilla's mansion on the outskirts of the capital.
Built on the edge of the noble district, it was the Barielle estate—the very residence where Priscilla's late husband, Lye Barielle, an elderly man, had once lived.
He had apparently held a position of some standing at the royal palace, and his name was well-known enough that even Rem had heard of him. However— "At the very least, this can't have been the old geezer's personal taste."
Even from a distance, the mansion's gaudy splendor was seared into his vision, the morning sun glinting off every surface.
The roof appeared to have been repainted extremely recently—coated in gold that gleamed as though someone had scattered gold leaf across it, opulent and fresh. Maintaining that luster would require frequent repainting.
The walls beyond the gate were adorned with decorations no less ostentatious than the roof, and the windows facing them were all carved with artistic flourishes without exception.
He had no firsthand experience with nouveau riche aesthetics, but the sheer visual force of it left no doubt in his mind about the kind of money being flaunted here.
"W-w-well, this is actually the princess's taste. Pretty crazy rush job, too—she moved in from the territories only about a month ago. Feel bad for the poor saps who worked through the night, but when a bag of gold coins is slapping you on the cheek, you can't exactly complain."
"No, having a bag of coins smashed into your cheek is basically the same as getting punched. Don't just casually brush it off like wads of cash."
In the mystery novels that littered the streets, there were even those who stuffed sand into socks to use as bludgeons. Being beaten to death by a sack of gold coins would make the cause of death "nouveau riche" through and through.
"Dunno, maybe," the one-armed man replied, tilting his head and scratching at the nape of his neck through a gap in his helmet. This was Al—a mercenary employed by Priscilla who, like Subaru, appeared to be a fellow transplant summoned from Earth.
Between his frequent use of modern slang and his outlandish fashion sense, the evidence was strong enough, but since Subaru had heard Al's summoning occurred nearly twenty years ago, the generational gap was undeniable.
Putting that aside, oblivious to Subaru's inner thoughts, Al—who had greeted them at the gate—let out a yawn with an utterly unguarded air.
"So, what brings you here this early in the morning? As you can tell, I'm chronically low-blood-pressure, so mornings are my absolute worst. I'm basically a fair fight with a King Cobra."
"Save the talk about some crazy guy who fires crusher beams once he levels up. I know showing up unannounced was rude, but I need to speak with your princess."
"With the princess?"
Al straightened his boneless posture and stared intently at Subaru and Rem.
Behind the black helmet, the sharpness of his gaze was impossible to read, but being appraised so openly was hard to stomach. For quite some time—and it seemed like he'd been looking primarily at Rem—Al clicked a joint on his helmet and said: "Ah, maid replenishment complete. Fine by me. I'll put in a word."
"There's probably maids in this mansion too, and that was way too casual a response."
"Hey, you don't know the princess. When a girl thinks she's the most gorgeous thing in existence, she doesn't hire maids. All this place has are shota butlers."
"That sounds awful just hearing it… My opinion just nosedived, but put the word in anyway."
"Yessir," Al replied in a muffled, half-hearted voice, then vanished inside the mansion.
At his side, Rem took a half step back and kept silent, her expression unchanged. Yet her fingers, delicately pinching the hem of Subaru's jacket, betrayed an anxiety she couldn't fully conceal. He wanted to comfort her, but the same anxiety gripped him just as tightly, and there was nothing he could do.
Even considering he'd had no one else to turn to, this much anxiety from simply interacting with a retainer before the principal had even appeared was extraordinary.
For Subaru, who couldn't afford to be picky about his methods, this was his last stronghold.
"Maybe coming at this hour was a mistake, though. Knowing Priscilla, she'd say something like 'You've disturbed my precious sleep time'…"
The anxious words slipped out—only to be drowned by a loud shout from Al, who was leaning out the mansion's entrance, waving his arm.
"Oy! She'll see you!"
For a moment, Subaru was caught off guard, then tentatively pushed open the gate and walked toward Al's beckoning hand.
"That…that was surprisingly easy to get a meeting?"
"Surprised? Actually, the princess is a morning person. Trades that for going to bed ridiculously early at night, though. Anyway, come on in."
Through the helmet, Al probably grinned at the bewildered Subaru, then gestured casually for them to enter. Following him inside, Subaru found that, true to the exterior, the interior had undergone considerable renovations.
Hallways lined with art objects to the point of obstructing passage, lighting and picture frames adorned with precious metals—it was enough to feel the madness seeping from the walls.
"At first your eyes might sting, but you get used to it. It's not so bad right now since it's morning, but the hallways at night are seriously terrifying."
"You're not a kid. Don't say you're scared of hallways at night, you grown man."
"The statues' eyes glow in the dark, you know?"
"That's because your master is insane."
Looking up, the stone statues flanking the hallway did indeed have gem-like objects embedded in their eyes. Once dark, they would glow. Madness.
Quietly ignoring these acts of sacrilege against art, Subaru walked on. Al, as though sensing something off, tilted his head but said nothing more.
Subaru was trying to ensure Rem, who followed a step behind, didn't feel too anxious, but she had been sniffing intermittently since a while ago, her gaze fixed suspiciously on Al's back as though she'd detected something amiss.
Then— "The princess is on the top floor of this mansion. The entire floor is her private suite. Talk about luxury."
"Sounds like some fancy hotel suite. Can I go up?"
Reaching the staircase, Al jerked his thumb upward. When Subaru asked, Al nodded and replied meaningfully, "Brothers only, though."
When Subaru shot him a suspicious look— "No, no, no, I'm not saying that to be mean. The princess said she'll only meet with you two. The little lady will be escorted to the guest room."
"You really going to trust the guy who just said he needed maid replenishment…"
"On that front, I've been told to wait outside the room too, so relax. I hate to admit it, but your maid escort will be a shota butler."
Anticipating Subaru's concern, Al elegantly stepped aside, and from behind him emerged a boy with golden curls and blue eyes. The only word for him was "beautiful youth"—dressed in a miniature butler's uniform, he carried himself with a slight air of reaching above his station, which only made him more endearing.
"Well then, make sure you don't let anything happen to our guest," Al said, casually clapping the boy on the shoulder.
The shota butler extended a graceful hand to escort Rem, saying, "This way." Rem hesitated for a split second, glancing at Subaru.
"Sorry, just wait until I'm done talking. The dangerous people—including the guy over there—will be taken upstairs. So just relax and make yourself comfortable."
"'Dangerous people,' that's harsh, bro. People call me suspicious all the time."
"That's actually the less insulting of the two words."
Al responded with a nonchalant shrug. Subaru then turned back to Rem and, reassuringly, stroked the top of her head.
Rem squinted at the sensation of her hair being ruffled, and in a small voice reluctantly accepted, "I understand." Then— "Please be careful around that person," she whispered, leaning slightly closer.
Her gaze had flicked toward Al for just an instant—presumably the very danger she was warning about. His outward appearance was certainly among the most unsettling Subaru had encountered since arriving in this world, but it was a strange warning to receive from someone Al was, to a degree, trustworthy.
"Mm, got it."
In terms of trust, Rem naturally held the higher standing.
Considering the exchange at Crusch's estate, sharing complete trust with someone simply because they hailed from the same homeland was out of the question. He should treat this as enemy territory.
With a nod, Subaru watched as Rem was led away by the shota butler. As she disappeared down the corridor, still casting lingering glances back at him— "Heh-heh, nice work, bro. You're loved."
"If you're going to do that, at least whistle properly. Can't whistle either, huh? Just like me."
Mimicking a whistle sound effect with one's mouth—that was cold enough.
Having never been able to whistle no matter how much he practiced, Subaru felt a flicker of kinship with the gesture. But Al retracted it with a surprisingly heavy answer: "Ah, well, my lips aren't exactly intact."
Regardless— "Can't keep the little lady waiting too long, and pissing off the princess is worse. Let's head up."
"I appreciate someone who gets to the point. …By the way, what's Priscilla's mood like?"
Before entering an important negotiation, he wanted to avoid catching her in a bad mood. With anyone else, it might not matter much, but with Priscilla, that invisible "mood" stat seemed to carry outsized influence.
"Hmm—" Al tilted his head languidly. "Neither good nor bad, but that doesn't really tell you anything. The princess's mood flips like a coin between sentences—before, during, after, above, below, left, right. She doesn't even have a favorite topic, so just wing it and hope for the best."
"The spontaneous approach, huh… That's my worst forte."
Armed with his first retainer's encouraging advice, Subaru headed upstairs with a clouded expression.
Climbing the stairs, passing a landing, and reaching the top, a door stood before him.
"That's the princess's absurdly oversized private suite. I'm not invited inside, so I'll wait here. Go on in."
Al said this in a carefree tone, then sat down on the step just before the door. In the process, he unsheathed the blue dragon sword strapped at his hip and set it across his knee.
"Try not to rub her the wrong way, huh? I don't wanna be on the receiving end of her temper, and when she's in a foul mood she'll demand all sorts of crazy stuff—"
"…Sorry, but I'm actually here to make some pretty unreasonable demands myself."
Subaru responded bluntly to Al's plea, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.
And then— ※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ —and then the scene looped back to the opening confrontation with Priscilla.
Escorted in by Al, Subaru had walked a short way before encountering her in a grand hall, waiting. She sat in a chair placed on a raised platform, elegantly reading a book, and didn't spare Subaru so much as a glance.
As long as she hadn't thrown him out, he was presumably recognized as a guest—but with no initiative on her part, he found himself uncertain about how to proceed.
Yet even as he hesitated, time pressed on with every passing second.
Hesitation breeds only stagnation, he decided. Steeling himself to plunge into the topic, Subaru drew breath to speak— "Then—"
The instant he tried to open with an opener, the dry snap of a book closing echoed through the room.
Before him, Priscilla closed the book in her palm and shut both eyes, savoring the tingling sensation in her hand from the act of closure, relishing the aftertaste of the reading in a moment of silence. Then— "A tedious story."
"Despite the fact that you seemed completely absorbed…"
"While reading, immersing yourself in the world of the book is the correct approach. And one offers one's impressions only after finishing the story in its entirety. How could one dismiss a book as uninteresting without reading it?"
To Subaru's half-hearted retort, Priscilla responded with unexpected seriousness—as a genuine book lover.
It seemed her declaration of being a book lover was no lie. She stated firmly that she never criticized a book without reading it first, then casually tossed the finished volume into the air— "Oh—"
Before Subaru's astonished eyes, the book reached the apex of its arc and was engulfed by sudden, intense heat, bursting into flame in an instant.
Consumed by ferocious fire from binding to pages, the book vanished in a flash. After a blink, only black ash drifted gently to the floor.
"Now then—don't dare steal my precious morning reading time. …At the very least, you've brought a story more interesting than that one, haven't you?"
With a salacious, venomous smile, Priscilla crossed one slender leg over the other and pointed a white finger in Subaru's direction.
The tip of that finger seemed to bore heat straight into his forehead. Subaru felt cold sweat pool along his spine.
"—the candidate Emilia. The situation surrounding her, and the situation's current deadlock. I want to lend her my strength—and I need yours to do it."
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "The Witch Cult, is it…"
Priscilla rested her head on the arm cradling her elbow, tapping her knee with her free hand's fingers.
After Subaru finished recounting almost the same story he'd told Crusch, she murmured with an air of deep reflection and closed her eyes.
Subaru noted that she seemed to have some particular thoughts regarding the Witch Cult.
"If we leave them be, they'll harm the citizens. I want to cut them down before that happens. For that, I need your strength—"
"Ohohoho—"
"Huh?"
Before Subaru could press for agreement, Priscilla's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, her face hidden. Before the bewildered Subaru, she raised her head with a burst— "Ahahahaha! How amusing! How very amusing indeed! Indeed, that was far more stirring than the book just now. When a fool commits himself this completely, it becomes a spectacle of its own."
She laughed. She laughed, and she mocked Subaru.
The realization that this was not a laugh of fondness but the kind a ferocious predator wore—the kind a cat displayed while toying a mouse to death—hit his instincts.
"What's so funny?"
"The fact that you don't even understand what's funny. Good grief. Do you have any idea how utterly incoherent your actions are?"
She ran a finger through her orange hair, twirling a strand up to her shoulder with her index finger, and questioned him with evident relish.
That tone—as though she saw right through him—rang a bell. At Crusch's estate, she had directed it at him countless times, as though to say his comprehension was pitifully low.
Without realizing it, Subaru's gaze sharpened. Priscilla snorted.
"Whether you have no one else to turn to or whatever, what you're doing is simply going around telling your enemies about your own faction's weaknesses. 'We don't have enough power, you see…' You certainly have a wonderfully simple-minded little head, don't you?"
She tapped her temple with a finger, openly ridiculing Subaru's efforts.
With that utterly condescending attitude, Subaru's thoughts went blank. He hadn't expected to be berated this directly.
As Subaru sat tongue-tied, unable to organize his emotions, Priscilla looked down at him and continued: "Throwing caution to the wind is all well and good, but your thinking is insufficient. Dangerously insufficient. Trying to help someone and driving them into peril instead—your actions are the very image of an incompetent laborer. Unmanageable. You'd be better off dead."
Having said whatever she pleased, Priscilla rose from her chair, bending to lean forward, and stared directly into Subaru's widened eyes. Prefacing with "I wouldn't mind—"
"I could simply have your head chopped off right here."
The next instant, a fan drawn from Priscilla's chest was resting lightly against Subaru's neck.
He hadn't even seen her lunge—couldn't tell when her arm had moved. She was impossibly fast.
Against his right carotid, the tip of the fan—warmed by Priscilla's body heat—pressed gently. It was no blade, yet the instant it was moved, Subaru had the hallucination that his head was about to fall.
Involuntarily holding his breath, Subaru heard Priscilla murmur with evident boredom: "Can't even keep up with my eyes? How dull. Stupid and slow besides—truly beyond saving. …And yet, despite such cruel treatment, the fact that you still act out of devotion to your master is genuinely admirable."
As she spoke, Priscilla withdrew the fan from Subaru's neck, opened it to cover her mouth, narrowed her eyes, and continued: "Laughing at your antics alone would be tiresome, even for me. So—I'll give you a chance."
"A…a chance?"
"Indeed. A chance. A 'shot,' as they say."
Whether she'd learned it from Al, she stumbled through a modern word with an imprecise pronunciation. Extending the closed fan toward Subaru, she pressed it straight and unhurriedly against his forehead. For some reason, he couldn't dodge it—and the pressure sent him toppling backward into a sitting position on the floor.
Now inverted, the two faced each other with their heights reversed. Subaru, placed on the wrong end, stared up at Priscilla in shock and protest— "———"
"Lick it."
Before his eyes, Priscilla's bare foot—shoe removed—was thrust in his face.
Unable to comprehend the words, Subaru's gaze darted between her face and the foot inches from him. At his bewildered, lost expression, Priscilla snorted and spoke with the cruelty of disciplining a misbehaving child—of tormenting a slave: "Crawl on the ground. Grit your teeth through the shame and the humiliation. And like a pathetic, laughable stray dog—lick my foot. —Do that, and I'll consider your proposal."
"Wha—?!"
"Refuse if you wish. If you'd rather prioritize that petty pride of yours and abandon the master you wagged your tail for, that's fine too. Either way, it's entertainment for me."
Whichever way it went, she would enjoy herself—Priscilla giggled behind her fan.
That attitude, dripping with nothing but malice, sent Subaru's innards roiling with fury. But shouting and acting on emotion—he barely restrained himself at the last moment.
If he let his emotions take over and flew off the handle here, the negotiation would collapse.
More importantly, he had managed to coax a concession from her.
He looked at the foot still thrust before him and at Priscilla's mocking face.
Closing his eyes, he saw the silver-haired girl, the pink-haired maid. Then the faces of the village children and adults surfaced one by one, and the magma of his fury cooled, little by little.
And then— "I… understand."
Swallowing his humiliation, Subaru reached out and took Priscilla's foot in his hands.
When he thought of the pain-filled deaths that awaited Emilia and the villagers, what was the humiliation Subaru endured here by comparison? If it meant averting that future and reaching the world they were meant to see, he would become a dog or anything else if he had to.
His trembling lips approached the white instep, about to touch that supple skin— "Oh, you truly are—what a pathetic excuse for a man you've become."
His nose was kicked head-on, and Subaru was sent flying through the air with ease.
Spinning, his vision whirling, Subaru couldn't process what was happening. The staggering impact rattled his skull, his consciousness scattering—and the brief sensation of weightlessness was cut short by the feeling of hard ground slamming into every part of his body.
After a moment of silence, he finally realized he was splayed on the floor in a star shape. Thick, viscous liquid was dripping copiously from his nostrils.
"What you possess is neither loyalty nor devotion. It's something far filthier—a dog-like dependence and a pig's desire. A slothful pig that only knows how to want. The desire of a pig is the ugliest thing of all."
The endless ringing in his ears and the urge to vomit bounced erratically through his skull.
From somewhere he could hear Priscilla's voice, but the words refused to penetrate.
But— "Even if you drive off the Witch Cult, I will annihilate your wretched faction the moment you show weakness. Your reckless behavior has made me decide as much."
A small hand seized the collar of his shirt where he lay, and wrenched him roughly upright.
Blood poured from Subaru's nose, and as he coughed, gasping for air, more merciless words rained down.
"—Rejoice. For you are the one who will lead that woman, Emilia, to ruin."
He was shoved away with full force, and Subaru's body slid across the floor to the entrance door. A trail of blood drops marked his path, but Priscilla wore an expression that said she'd rather look at anything than at those stains.
"—Aldebaran!"
At Priscilla's sharp cry, the only door connected to the outside was opened from the other side.
Responding to the call, the person in the pitch-black helmet peered in. Surveying the room and spotting Subaru bloodied before the door, he placed his lone hand on his helmet.
"Well, well—what happened here…?"
"Take that repulsive piece of trash out of here. If you like, you may cut him down and dispose of him."
"Come on, now—give the guy a break, would ya? …C'mon, bro, let's move."
Without arguing with his indignant master, Al grabbed Subaru's body and hoisted him over one shoulder with ease.
"Don't be so angry, princess. That pretty face of yours loses value when it gets all fierce like that."
"If you don't want me to further destroy that broken face of yours, take him and get out. I won't say it twice, Aldebaran."
"Don't call me that, for crying out loud."
Tossing the words over his shoulder, Al carried Subaru out of the room.
After quietly closing the door behind them, Al descended the stairs at a brisk pace.
"First things first—you better get the hell out of here soon. Knowing the princess, she could flip and order your head chopped off at any moment. Get out before she actually does it."
"Huh…?"
"Nope, this ain't gonna work. I'll go get the little lady and bring her to you—after that, you're on your own."
Seeing Subaru still dazed and barely conscious, Al shrugged his lone shoulder and sighed. Then, picking up speed, he flew down the remaining stairs.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "Subaru-kun!"
At the sight of Subaru slumped against the gate, Rem's face drained of color and she rushed over.
She touched the limp, motionless Subaru, gauging the extent of his injuries, and began chanting a healing spell: "Mana of water…"
"Illuminating the path," she whispered.
A gentle light touched Subaru's face as she turned to the one-armed man standing nearby.
"What happened?"
Al answered, tapping his toe against the ground as though contrite: "Ah, that. Looks like he rubbed our princess the wrong way. I told him to watch out for that, but, well… expecting a human to perfectly predict a cat's mood is asking a lot."
While he sounded genuinely sheepish, there was not a shred of guilt in his words. He might have felt some sympathy for Subaru's plight, but he harbored no remorse for his master's actions. Rem, having observed this, was left momentarily speechless. She was about to voice a protest when— "—Rem, it's fine."
"Subaru-kun. Is your consciousness okay?"
As the concussion eased and his thoughts began to coalesce, Subaru spoke to Rem. Her expression brightened. She closed both eyes in concentration and resumed healing.
"You're really someone who can't be left alone for a moment, Subaru-kun. I was only away for barely an hour, and you come back like this."
"I didn't exactly choose to…"
As blood circulation returned to normal, blood began flowing from his nostrils again. He caught the drip with a hastily raised hand, and Rem pressed a cloth she'd produced from her jacket gently against his face.
"Hold it there. Once the wound heals and the blood drains out, it'll stop."
"—Okay."
Doing as Rem instructed, Subaru held his nose, savoring the gentle warmth seeping through the healing magic.
Al, looking down at them, said, "You seem fine enough," then: "Nothing more I can do here—I'll head back too. No idea what you two were talking about, but from the looks of it, it didn't go well. If I hang around too long, the princess might seriously order me to chop you up."
"Cut Subaru-kun…?!"
"Don't make that face, little lady! I said 'might!' Better skip town before she does. I don't wanna do that kind of thing, you know."
Al waved a hand dramatically at Rem's alarm, then relaxed his posture, slouching back with a casual step.
"Well then, recover well, bro. And the lady there—ah, Rem, right? Take care of him."
"—
Rem corrected him with a polite but firm tone just as Al was turning to leave.
Al froze mid-step.
He tilted his head slightly upward, then slowly turned back toward her.
"Don't be stupid. It's Ram, right?"
"It's Rem. …Pardon me, but have you met my sister somewhere?"
When she asked—prompted by being mistaken for her identical twin sister—Al gave no answer.
He raised his lone hand to touch the helmet covering his head.
"What the hell…"
"The little lady is Rem… and the big sister is Ram."
"Yes."
"I know this might sound weird, but… your sister—is she alive?"
"…? I don't understand the intent of your question, but of course my sister is alive."
The instant Rem answered, Subaru felt his skin prickle with goosebumps.
Shocked by the inexplicable reaction his own body produced, Subaru shuddered.
And then— "This ain't a joke."
Low, cold, and heavy, those words struck his eardrums.
They were muttered through clenched teeth from beneath the helmet, Al pressing his forehead with his lone hand.
At the same time, Subaru recognized that the chill which had seized his skin emanated from the unknown, ominous aura radiating from Al.
You should not be here—the instinct's alarm bell screamed. And it seemed Rem felt it too.
"Subaru-kun, can you lean on my shoulder and stand?"
She had interrupted the healing, and crouched as she was, her guard was fully up.
Subaru nodded, and waited for her movement. He needed her to help him out of here.
But their vigilance was— "Don't worry. I'm not gonna do anything."
—rendered moot as Al shook his head and suppressed the aura he'd been emitting.
The chill vanished instantly, and Subaru realized he'd been holding his breath. Even Rem's expressionless mask softened, just slightly, with relief.
And the source of it all, Al, addressed them: "Sorry to cut the tension short, but you'd better leave. I think you can tell, but I'm not in a great mood either right now."
"—Understood. Please convey our thanks for the time she gave us."
"Sure. Take care."
Exchanging stiff pleasantries, Rem offered Subaru her shoulder, and they set off.
Leaning his weight on her small frame, Subaru put distance between himself and the Barielle estate. Descending the slope, widening the gap from the gate, he briefly glanced behind him.
—Al was still staring intently at them, eyes locked on Subaru's retreating back.
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ "You've got to be kidding me. So that's what that is… Makes me sick."
The muffled whisper echoed only within the pitch-black helmet.