When Mizelda announced that she would be abdicating her role as clan chief, her expression was resolute.
Her wild, sharp-eyed beauty and commanding presence hadn't diminished one bit — she looked exactly as she had the first time he'd laid eyes on her. The impression of a thoroughly strong woman, unchanged in every particular.
It was with that same bearing that Mizelda had decided to step down as chieftain and relinquish her right foot.
"————"
The ones steeped in deep regret were the people gathered around her.
The Shudrak tribe, who had witnessed Mizelda's strength firsthand — their frustration and sense of loss were not things that could be easily swept aside.
Kuna wore her usual stoicism turned up to eleven with a blank expression, and even the perpetually carefree Holly wore a somber face. Utakata, eyes glistening with tears, bit her lip and looked down, while the other Shudrak members all wore uniformly dejected expressions.
But the most visibly distraught of all was— "S-Sis, I can't do this! There's no way I could ever fill the role of chieftain—"
"— Taritta."
"It's only because it's you that the role worked! I don't have that kind of capacity...!"
Shaking her head frantically, Taritta pleaded desperately.
Mizelda's younger sister, personally named as the next chieftain by Mizelda herself — it was easy to imagine from the way she spoke and carried herself that Taritta revered her older sister with something approaching worship.
Precisely because of that, Taritta was in a terrible state of panic, unable to fully accept the fact that Mizelda had lost her foot. Her distress was, if anything, greater than Mizelda's own.
"...It's my inadequacy."
To Taritta's anguished appeal, a weak, self-blaming voice responded.
It belonged to
As the only person present who could use healing magic, Rem had been invaluable — rushing hither and yon to save as many of the wounded as she could. How grueling that must have been was evident from Rem's blood-soaked clothes, disheveled hair, and weary expression.
In truth, she refused to acknowledge it, insisting she was "fine" even when Subaru was the first to praise her efforts.
But no one had the right to blame Rem for inadequacy.
Without her, they couldn't have achieved a result with zero deaths from Arakia's attack. Everyone understood that.
And so— "Rem, you have nothing to feel bad about. Fighting an Empire's 'general' and coming away with just one lost foot was lucky. ...No, it was thanks to your help."
"Mizelda, but—"
"I'm grateful to you. Nothing more needs to be said."
Being thanked so earnestly by Mizelda herself, Rem could say nothing more.
Beside the silent Rem, Rui sat close, her long golden hair in disarray. Rem placed a hand on Rui's shoulder, where the girl gently gripped the hem of her clothes, and quietly lowered her eyes.
Rem's guilt and helplessness — Subaru understood them all too well, painfully so. But before Subaru could open his mouth, the dark-haired, handsome man stepped forward ahead of him.
"Mizelda. You have no intention of changing your mind."
At Abel's question, Mizelda, seated on her makeshift seat, nodded.
Touching the bandaged stump of her severed foot with her fingers— "No, I don't. The covenant between the Shudrak and the Volakian Emperor will be honored. For what comes after, don't ask me — ask Taritta. ...No, ask the chieftain."
"...Understood. Mizelda, you have served well."
"Hmph."
With Mizelda's resolve to abdicate firmly settled, Abel crossed his arms in acknowledgment. Upon hearing that, Mizelda let out a small breath and her stern composure cracked.
A faint smile on her lips, she looked up at Abel— "At the very least, humor me and smile. It's the duty of a handsome man, you know."
"...Hmph."
"That'll do."
Despite having just lost her foot, Mizelda was impossibly strong.
Even the arrogant Abel couldn't find fault with her insolence — instead, he showed a smile.
It was the clearest proof that the emperor who had been robbed of his throne showed genuine respect to a warrior woman who lived in the forest.
And then— "———Hear me, my people!"
Her smile hardening into a fierce expression, Mizelda raised her voice.
Upon hearing that fearsome voice, every member of the Shudrak straightened their posture and leaned in to listen.
"As I declared earlier, I am no longer able to fulfill the duties of chieftain! Therefore, I pass the role of chieftain to my sister, Taritta! All of you — follow Taritta!"
"————"
"This is my final command as chieftain. —With gratitude for the oath of our ancestors and the pride of our ancestral spirits."
"With gratitude!"
At Mizelda's closing words, the Shudrak repeated the response in unison.
Subaru had no knowledge of their customs or long-standing traditions. But even to an outsider like himself, he could feel instinctively that this was a rite of succession.
Brief, unceremonious — a pragmatic blend of the practical and the ceremonial.
Here, the chieftainship of the Shudrak tribe had been passed from Mizelda to Taritta.
"Sis..."
"Don't look so grim, Chieftain. Your hesitation is our hesitation. Your reluctance is our reluctance. Your death becomes our death."
"————"
Mizelda stepped forward and encouraged the new chieftain, whose expression remained clouded.
That wouldn't instantly lighten Taritta's heart. But she, too, must have understood that clinging to the situation would change nothing.
After a brief silence, Taritta gave a wordless, tentative nod.
"————"
The complex emotions that flickered through Mizelda's eyes at that moment were something the bowing Taritta could not see. —And it was a sanctuary that no one else should dare comment on.
*** "...Honestly, I didn't expect that."
Once the chieftain succession and the damage report were concluded, Subaru addressed Abel with that remark.
Stopping him mid-stride, Abel furrowed his brow at the subjectless comment and asked curtly, "Expect what?" — his displeasure plain as he pressed Subaru for the real meaning.
"There's a lot to think about. Don't trouble me with your inane remarks too."
"Don't be so harsh all the time. ...I just didn't expect it. That you'd accept Mizelda's withdrawal from the front line so readily."
"————"
"I was half-convinced you'd say losing a foot was nothing and demand she work herself to death for my sake."
Even as he thought it was an extreme take, Subaru voiced his honest feelings to Abel.
This was the emperor who had planned to add the Shudrak to his forces for the reconquest of his throne — and who had even considered poisoning the fortress city of
Abel — no, Vincent Volakia — Subaru had assumed would be the type to hold exactly that sort of attitude.
"What drivel. What meaning could such coercion possibly serve?"
But Abel's answer to Subaru, who had braced himself for insults, was calm.
In front of the dumbfounded Subaru, Abel gazed at the Shudrak members conferring in the distance— "In the first place, I never demand more from subordinates than they can give. To order someone to do their best and then demand they vomit up more than their limits is utter madness."
"————"
"Unexpected performance only throws off my calculations. I ask no more or less from subordinates than what they are. And Mizelda fulfilled her part. That being all, the only thing I offer is a reward."
Harsh words to drive them, rewards to extract more than their worth, and praise to secure their commitment to the next task.
Subaru had always assumed that was how those in power kept their subordinates in line. Abel's answer was the exact opposite of what he had envisioned.
Not demanding more from subordinates than they were capable of.
In a way, that seemed like a comfortable working environment for subordinates — yet at the same time, it felt like a lonely one.
"Naturally, performance that doesn't merit evaluation is met with punishment. Rewards for merit, punishment for failure — you understand the meaning, I trust."
"...Does that mean the punishment part applies to me?"
"If you were my subordinate, yes. But are you my subordinate?"
Gazing straight at him, Subaru blinked at Abel's words.
Of course, Subaru had no recollection of ever becoming Abel's subordinate. In his discussions with Priscilla, Abel had treated Subaru like a military strategist, but Subaru had no intention of pledging fealty.
"The title of strategist isn't exactly unappealing, but being your subordinate? No thanks."
"I'd imagine so. You are not my subordinate. Hence, you fall outside the scope of rewards and punishments."
"When you put it that way, what exactly am I to you..."
They had been forced together in the end, but fundamentally, there was no master-servant relationship between Subaru and Abel, nor anything more intimate than that. They were simply swept up together by circumstance — once the problem was resolved, they'd go their separate ways.
Ally, comrade, comrade-in-arms — none of those quite fit. If pressed, the closest term would be cross-dressing companions.
"Others have presumptuously called me their friend, but I doubt that's what we are."
"No. I'm not good with people — I don't make friends easily."
Given the current situation, anyone who would call Subaru a "friend" was either an extraordinary saint or a fraud. Flopp was merely the former.
And then— "I have unfinished business with Priscilla. You attend to your part."
"My part..."
"You already know what that is without being told."
Those sharp eyes cut into him, and Subaru's gaze shifted away from Abel toward a corner of the room.
There, Rem sat on the floor with her back against the wall. Her downward expression couldn't be confirmed from a distance, but she was clearly not someone who could be left alone.
Subaru was a little annoyed that Abel had called it out before he did.
"If you upset Priscilla and start another fight, I'm going to lose it. Watch how you speak to her."
"I would caution that it's not me, but you, who should heed those words."
Having his acid retort met with an even more cutting one, Subaru parted ways with Abel, who returned to the conference room.
With the situation surrounding Mizelda's foot changing the nature of the Shudrak tribe, the dialogue with Priscilla would need to account for those new circumstances.
Though, in truth, Subaru had little to contribute to conversations between Abel and Priscilla — two transcendents.
What should take priority was the conversation only Subaru could have.
"—Rem, is now a good time?"
Taking a light deep breath to settle himself, Subaru approached Rem.
Sitting with her knees folded and her back against the wall, Rem stirred slightly at Subaru's words, her unfocused pale blue eyes finding his figure.
"...It's you. When are you going to change your clothes?"
"Changing clothes takes a back seat to you, Rem. I'll change right after we're done talking."
"Is that so? Then we're done talking. Go change your clothes."
"What kind of brush-off is that!"
Rem's blunt dismissal left Subaru with nowhere to turn, and he raised his voice. At that, Rem's gaze sharpened and she said, "Keep your voice down."
Then, tilting her chin toward the girl leaning against her shoulder— "Rui-chan is sleeping. Please be considerate."
"That's—"
"Or do you not even want to show that much consideration for this child?"
"Don't say it like that. I was wrong."
Rui was fast asleep against her, a soft, small breath rising and falling.
Rui, whose white clothes were stained with blood in several places, had also been helping Rem tend to the wounded, or so Subaru had heard. From Rem's attitude and what Utakata had told him, she'd followed instructions competently enough, despite her inexperience.
Naturally, Subaru's feelings about that were complicated.
"You look rather grim in that state. It's making me uncomfortable."
"Ah — sorry. My makeup's a mess too, huh. Pretty unsightly."
"You were unsightly even when your makeup was done properly."
"Ouch..."
Rem's acerbic remarks landed with their usual sting, and Subaru slumped his shoulders in exaggerated dismay. Then, slowly, he sat down at Rem's side — on the right, opposite from Rui.
A flicker of protest shot from Rem's eyes, but he deliberately ignored it— "Rem, you did well. Everyone's alive because of you."
"...I was painfully aware of my inadequacy. Honestly, I'm not proud of myself."
"Rem..."
In response to his words of praise, Rem looked down at her own hands in frustration. Staring at those white fingers, she bit her lip weakly.
"Not proud? Your memory's still a blur, and yet you've already mastered healing magic and saved a ton of people. And yet..."
"I know. In truth, this magic wasn't supposed to be like this."
"Wasn't supposed to be like this?"
"Healing magic. The magic I'm using now is based on intuition — to put it another way, I'm self-taught. Rui-chan has been helping me, and somehow it's taking shape, but..."
Rem's words trailed off.
The reason she couldn't continue was something everyone already understood without being told — and because saying it aloud would be a blade that cut into herself, and even a small amount of solace would still be solace.
Weakness, once spoken, wounds both self and others. In exchange, it eases the weight in one's chest ever so slightly. And Rem was loath to let herself feel lighter.
It was proof that she was truly blaming herself for her inability — for failing to save others.
"————"
That weight Rem carried, Subaru understood all too well, freshly and painfully.
The regret of "I should have been able to do more" was far more punishing than simply hitting a wall out of reach. When it involved someone else's future — not your own — it was even worse.
—Mizelda's loss of her foot had left something heavy lodged deep in Subaru's chest too.
It wasn't life. But the magnitude of losing one of your limbs was easy enough to imagine.
Most recently, Al had become a one-armed man after losing his left arm. In the watergate city of
It was a shocking event, but not so remote a tragedy as to be inconceivable. If anything, for someone who lived on the battlefield, it might be more fitting to call it an everyday tragedy.
Even so— "...It's rough."
"...Yes."
Rem nodded softly at Subaru's dry murmur.
That honest, unresisting nod was virtually unprecedented, but Subaru was in no mood to appreciate it. Just then, Rem turned a glance toward him.
"If the old me... if the old me had been there, what do you think would have happened?"
"...If you'd had your memories, Rem?"
"Yes. If my healing magic had been what it was then — Mizelda's foot..."
Could it have been saved? The words that should have followed hung in the air, and Subaru closed his eyes.
He understood Rem's feelings. But as an outsider, it was difficult for Subaru to judge how much the presence or absence of her memories actually affected her healing magic.
Even if healing power could be quantified, Subaru would have no way to evaluate it.
However— "————"
Rem stared at Subaru with desperate intensity in her pale blue eyes.
Whether the answer she sought was something Subaru could provide — he didn't know. Before him lay only two choices: had the old Rem been able to do it, or not?
Which of those two would offer Rem salvation?
—No. Which answer would spare Rem any further pain?
"...I think even with your memories, it wouldn't have made a difference."
"————"
"Healing magic isn't omnipotent. And even within those limits, Rem — you must have done your very best."
After a few seconds — though it felt much longer to Subaru — that was the answer he gave.
That even if Rem had possessed her memories, even if her healing magic had been at its full strength, she wouldn't have been able to save Mizelda's foot.
Not because of what the truth actually was.
If they started down the road of "what ifs," there'd be no end to it. Rem had indeed failed to save Mizelda's foot. But she had saved the lives of many others besides Mizelda.
Her achievements deserved praise — there was no grounds for self-blame whatsoever.
If anything, the one who should be blamed— "I was the one who was inadequate."
"Wh—?"
"I didn't think it through enough. I should have examined everything more carefully."
Hearing Subaru's response, Rem's round eyes went wide.
In front of that Rem, Subaru clenched his back teeth hard and pressed both hands over his face.
If inadequacy was to be cursed, then the fault should rain down on Subaru himself.
"It's all my fault."
He'd paraded around touting "bloodless surrender," yet the reality had fallen far short.
Arakia's intrusion had produced a mass of casualties, and the subsequent recovery of her body had resulted in several deaths among the city's guards as well. No one from their own side had died, but when Subaru looked at Mizelda's missing foot, how could anyone call it "bloodless"?
He'd failed. He'd stacked failure upon failure, missed every opportunity to recover, and piled up mistakes.
What he'd pursued was the best possible happy ending — yet what lay before Subaru was a middling happy ending at best, or perhaps what could only be called a mediocre bad ending.
To use Abel's own words — rewards and punishments. He should be punished.
If Subaru had been Abel's subordinate, he'd deserve to have his head lopped off without anyone batting an eye.
—At worst, even if it meant using "Return by Death"...
As that thought crossed his mind— If he did that, the moment he'd most likely return to would be the bloodbath of his battle with Todd in Guaral. —The mere thought of it made his entire body bristle with fear.
Even so, if returning to that moment of terror could let him pick up everything he'd let slip through his fingers— "...Why?"
Suddenly, those words struck Subaru's eardrums while he was deep in thought.
Instinctively looking up, his eyes collided head-on with Rem's gaze, fixed steadily on him.
Rem's eyes, which moments ago had been glistening with self-reproach, now burned with an even fiercer self-blame as she stared straight at Subaru.
"Why are you making this your fault?"
Rem pressed the words on Subaru, who was frozen, unable to move.
Reaching out with still-glistening eyes, she gestured toward the wrecked city hall— "Mizelda's foot, Rui-chan's and Utakata-chan's injuries, Medium-san's and Flopp-san's wounds — all of it is your fault?"
"Yes. If I'd prepared more carefully, this wouldn't have happened."
"You came up with a plan, executed a scheme that looked reckless but actually produced results. You held the two generals in check and brought everyone into the city without a single battle. Everything went according to plan."
"But the aftermath—"
"—The aftermath?!"
At Subaru's persistence, Rem's brows shot up and her voice rose. In her agitation, she turned sharply, causing the weight of Rui, who had been leaning against her, to slump onto her lap.
Rui stirred faintly and let out a small groan but didn't wake. Supporting Rui's shoulder, Rem caught her breath slightly and looked at Subaru again.
"No one could have predicted the aftermath! That half-naked woman showing up, her going on a rampage — none of it was foreseeable. And yet—"
"————"
"And yet, why are you taking on all the responsibility for it?"
When she pressed him again with "why," Subaru's breath caught.
If she asked him why, it was because Subaru believed that was the responsibility of those who wielded power.
Just as Rem had lamented her inadequacy in healing magic, Subaru mourned and lamented the things his ability couldn't cover. "Return by Death" had an even greater scope than that.
When Subaru exercised his power, the future could become better — or worse.
But— "That's..."
—That was a truth he could not reveal, even to Rem.
Not just Rem.
The nature of Subaru's ability — this was the one thing he could never tell anyone, no matter how close they were. —No, it was precisely with those he shared a bond with that he couldn't speak.
Telling them might lead to their death. How could he reveal such a truth?
Pain was terrifying. The pain inflicted by the mere act of confessing "Return by Death" was horrifying.
The agony of having one's heart gripped — no matter how many times someone experienced it, they could never get used to it.
But what was truly terrifying was not the pain — it was the loss.
Was there anything in this world more terrifying than losing something?
It was because he feared loss to the extreme that this ability had been bestowed upon
"...Why did you shield me?"
"Wh—?"
Seeing Subaru fall silent, unable to give an answer, Rem continued as though she'd given up on getting one.
For a moment, Subaru didn't understand what she was referring to and blinked.
"When that half-naked woman attacked us. When the pillar was knocked over and that didn't work either... when she came charging at you, you stood in front of me."
To save Rem from Arakia's attack, Subaru had thrown himself in front of her without a thought.
Spreading his arms wide, desperate to keep every threat away from her — in that moment, Subaru would have been fine even if Arakia had taken his life.
He wanted Rem to live even one second longer than him — to live longer than he did.
That was— "The result of proposing bloodless surrender, shielding me back there, even Mizelda losing her foot — you've been trying to carry all of it on your own shoulders..."
"————"
"You're not strong enough to carry all of that. ...At first, I was on guard because of that dreadful stench about you."
Pausing there, Rem cast her gaze down toward Rui in her lap.
Gently stroking the girl's golden hair, Rem held her breath for a moment, then turned her gaze back to Subaru— "Rui-chan and I, Abel-san and Mizelda-san, Medium-san and Flopp-san — we are all people with our own will. You don't need to strain yourself trying to protect us all."
"Ah..."
"All of that — don't try to handle it alone. We don't need you to take responsibility for our actions."
Overwhelmed by the torrent of words, Subaru opened and closed his mouth like a fish.
His brain was refusing to process what was being said. But an unidentified sense of urgency was burning through his heart, telling him he must not hear any more.
Rem pressed on, her gaze intense and unwavering toward the Subaru who had cursed his own inadequacy.
He had to stop her — don't let her say any more— "You're not a special person—"
He knew he had to stop her.
"—You're not a hero."
*** Dazed, staggering, Subaru drifted aimlessly through the city hall.
He had no destination in mind. He wasn't even sure when he'd started walking. By the time he realized it, he was already moving, and his consciousness was now vague and hazy.
"—!"
Suddenly, he collided head-on with something hard.
Looking down, he'd been staring at his feet and walked straight into a wall. He pressed his forehead where he'd struck the bare surface and let out a breath.
Then, almost without thinking, he banged his forehead against the hard wall once more.
A sharp impact and a dull thud — Subaru felt a throbbing pain pulse through his skull.
By jolting his brain from the outside like that, he could feel something like stagnant sediment within his body slowly receding.
Keeping up that rhythm, Subaru hit his forehead against the wall again. And again. And again— "———Hey, hey, cut it out, brother."
A hand grabbed his shoulder from behind as he pulled back for another strike, and a voice called out.
Turning around, Subaru's vision met the gaze of someone peering at him through an iron helmet. The other man kept his grip on Subaru's shoulder and cracked his neck— "I get the dying feeling, really I do. But no matter how many times you do that, it ain't gonna fix a damn thing."