—Aldebaran's "Territory" was an Authority tied to the
But Aldebaran was not a holder of the Witch Factor.
The "Witch" called this an exception or special case, but Aldebaran insisted it should be called what it truly was—usurpation and an anomaly.
As a phenomenon, it wasn't without precedent. For instance, the "Witches of Sin," who had once resonated with a Witch Factor and obtained an Authority, still retained that same power even after death, reduced to nothing but their souls.
Regarding this, the "Witch" theorized that the Witch Factor might be a key that opens a door granting the right to interfere with the world—and once that door was opened, it remained open even if the key was lost.
In that case, while the "Witches of Sin" could be explained, neither Aldebaran nor the "Witch" herself could be accounted for. On that point, she championed the inheritance theory.
That perhaps a deep connection with an entity that had resonated with the Witch Factor had opened the door to the right of Authority—the power to interfere with the world—from the moment of birth.
However— "It's difficult for a winged being to explain the sensation of moving wings to one who has none. Our Authorities, not acquired after the fact, are similarly hard to explain. It's as if the door was half-open from birth, you know?"
The "Witch" looked smug when she said this—probably because she considered it her finest bit of humor. Unfortunately, Aldebaran couldn't laugh at all, though he could nod along with the content.
Indeed, if the door had been wide open, things would have been more breathable.
Instead, he was peering through a half-open door, sticking his hand through it. That was why he got blocked by the door, caught his fingers, and met with unintended accidents.
Perhaps it would've been better if he could simply resign himself to not opening the door, like the "Witch." But Aldebaran was too mediocre and powerless for that.
He lacked the ability to fulfill the role the "Witch" expected of him if he didn't open the door.
If that was the case, then the option of not opening the door wasn't available to Aldebaran—whether it was half-open or not.
Consequently, Aldebaran's Authority as a half-open door had many opaque aspects.
Through feel, empirical evidence, and the "Witch's" speculation layered on top, he'd grasped roughly eighty percent of the whole picture. That was still enough to use the Authority without issue, and Aldebaran didn't hesitate to employ it.
Some might find that reckless, but it was like how you didn't need to understand how a phone worked to use it without risking your life. Though perhaps the comparison fell short, since Aldebaran's Authority was intimately tied to life itself.
In any case, having spent what amounted to over ten times his lifetime with this Authority through subjective time, the Territory still had numerous black boxes. And the bugs that occasionally occurred were the most glaring example.
A bug within the Territory—it was a phenomenon where control of the set matrix shifted from Aldebaran to another subject placed within the same matrix.
Normally, Aldebaran created the Territory of his own will and was permitted to make infinite challenges within its designated time and space. Throughout, he maintained his memories, conducted different verifications with each attempt, and searched for a breakthrough—that was the unspoken rule.
However, when a bug occurred through some kind of misaligned trigger, the right to redo the Territory was transferred to someone else within the matrix, and that person would be forced to repeat the endless matrix until the Territory was dissolved.
This bug, which hadn't manifested during his time under the "Witch," had been triggered—Aldebaran was convinced—by his first defeat and the resulting erosion of trust in his Authority.
In truth, the bug always occurred when Aldebaran doubted his own Authority.
Dating back to the gladiatorial island, when he was forced into a death match against an overwhelmingly powerful foe with not even a one-in-ten-thousand chance of victory. After that, it manifested during clashes with Lye Barielle, when Aldebaran was tormented by indecision, and during his battle against Yae, an assassin sent by Priscilla.
But more than anything— "—Interesting. Delegating the initiative of your Authority to another? I've never heard of such a thing."
It happened when he challenged the "Witch of Greed" who awaited him in the dream castle.
"It was quite a rare experience. I see, so that's the world you see. Indeed, if you can't pinpoint the cause of the events occurring before you, it would drive anyone mad."
He had lunged at the transformed "Witch of Greed," demanding she return the "Witch" he knew.
When he attacked from every conceivable angle, and his trial-and-error and ingenuity proved completely futile, the suspicion of his Authority that was born within Aldebaran—just as if to prove it—the bug triggered.
"Doubt in the absolute nature of an Authority, and the change born from it… That is power derived from weakness. The only pity is that it has no effect on beings already maddened. She is such, as am I."
To the bewildered Aldebaran, the "Witch of Greed" recounted the details of the hell she had tasted.
It was, without question, the world of the Territory as Aldebaran knew it—and at the same time, something fundamentally different. He couldn't understand how the "Witch of Greed" had endured it.
Was it, as she herself said, because she had been insane?
"When exercising an Authority, in most cases, you are the weaker party. You cling to the Territory—scraping together a minuscule chance of victory, prying it open, and ultimately seizing it. You could call yourself the victim. And if the one forcing the Territory upon you is the perpetrator, then what we have here is an exchange of initiative between victim and perpetrator."
The sight of the "Witch of Greed," gleefully exposing the truth of that hell, sent a chill through Aldebaran's entire body—and he understood that it was a nightmare of his own making.
The transformation of the dream castle into a nightmare, the bug within the Territory—all stemmed from Aldebaran's weakness. It was a punishment born from the unforgivable sin of being weak.
"The plan is still alive. The first objective was thwarted, but the second remains intact. However, this last desperate gambit… You and I are both here because of that. Isn't that right?"
The "Witch of Greed" sneered as she promised to drag that cross—too heavy, nearly dropped because he couldn't bear it alone—together with him.
At that smile—half-wished for, half-dreaded—Aldebaran steeled his resolve.
"I will kill you. I swear it."
—Even the bug within the Territory, power born from his own weakness, even the brand of his own defeat—he would use all of it to fulfill his role as the "successor star."
"—Why does love decrease, I wonder?"
The whispered murmur of the "Witch of Greed"—Aldebaran did not know the answer.
He had lost the "Witch" who desired love. He had lost the "Sun Princess" he loved. Even now, he still didn't know.
—He didn't want to know.
△▼△▼△▼△ His thoughts were accelerating.
Probably crushed beneath the weight of Petra's Authority, Aldebaran's mind was overflowing with a torrent of miscellaneous thoughts he couldn't prioritize, threatening to burst at the seams.
"—Damn."
It was a terrifying Authority.
Unlike blessings with their hit-or-miss quality, most Authorities manifested power that was both extraordinary and beyond specifications—and Petra's "Compression" was no exception. An Authority's effectiveness often depended on the flexibility of its wielder's mind, and in that regard, her adaptability was excessive.
Either you had extraordinarily strong convictions, or you had flexibility born from weakness. The talent to draw out the Witch Factor's immense power was closely tied to those mental qualities. The Sin Witches and Sin Archbishops were the former; Aldebaran and Petra could be called the latter.
And regardless of whether they were a blessing holder, a Witch Factor resonator, or someone with no power at all, the type Aldebaran found most formidable was always the latter.
In practice, the attack of "Compression" against his thoughts worked exactly as intended. For Aldebaran, who wanted to avoid mental exhaustion, it was annoyingly effective at draining his reserves.
Setting aside the Authority, Aldebaran was also a weaker party. In a battle demanding split-second judgment, he understood well the value of a power that could always search for the optimal move. But in the midst of combat, you could never be at your best no matter how hard you tried. That was why, at some point, you had to make a decision, sever your train of thought, and act. Petra's "Compression" forced him to fill the mental margins he would have otherwise cut away, compelling double the exertion just to reach the same conclusion.
And so, Aldebaran—trading enormous amounts of mental stamina—continued to produce optimal actions and needle-thread-thin solutions against the fully motivated "Aldebastars."
And in the midst of that exhaustion— "—Old Man
What he heard in the instant the Aldebastars' assault broke through was a voice like a scream.
Without understanding what had happened, Varga Cromwell had fallen.
"————"
Naturally, even without knowing how, the only candidate who could have done it was a certain someone. As a result, with the exception of those who rushed to the fallen Varga, the rest of their hostility concentrated on Aldebaran. Exposed to that hostility, Aldebaran—beneath his helmet, invisible to the Aldebastars—stared wide-eyed with the same shock they all felt.
"I've become the perpetrator of the Territory's bug."
He hadn't intended it. But he knew what had happened because of him.
The Territory's bug had activated, and Varga—one of the perpetrators—was forced to hold the initiative. And the old giant had probably been forced to repeat that brief moment so many times it would crush his heart.
"Tch."
A chance for a miraculous reversal, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—Aldebaran did not welcome it.
As described above, the bug's activation was unrelated to Aldebaran's will—or at least, it hadn't been activated deliberately. And Aldebaran couldn't rejoice in its triggering.
Because the bug, in most cases, destroyed the mind of whoever it ensnared.
"The gladiatorial island, Old Man Lye, that brat Yae…"
Those who had clashed with Aldebaran, swallowed by the Territory's bug, and trapped in an inescapable loop of "death"—without exception, they had all suffered mental breakdowns.
The broken gladiatorial slaves had their heads lopped off by Aldebaran. The mad Lye Barielle forgot his years-long ambition. The terrified Yae Tensen became a loyal servant.
The Territory's bug, which twisted the very nature of a being's mind, was—for Aldebaran, who had imposed the condition of no killing on his plan—essentially a "death sentence" with nothing else to offer.
That was why Aldebaran couldn't celebrate this resolution.—Really?
—'No one can defeat the you I created.' The voice of the "Witch"—once betrayed—rang in his ears. The expectations. The ideals.
Fearing the opponent's tenacity, their strategy, their solidarity, the one-in-a-million chance, the one-in-a-hundred-million, the one-in-a-trillion—and through that wariness, that vigilance, that distaste—the Territory had met the conditions for the bug's activation. In other words, it was none other than Aldebaran doubting his Authority, himself, and the "Witch."
—'No one can defeat the you I created.' The "Witch's" voice came again.
—And he saw the next perpetrator collapse, eyes rolled back.
△▼△▼△▼△ —Dear God, dear Buddha, dear Od Laguna. I swear I will never seek tranquility in this life.
△▼△▼△▼△ "—Old Man…?"
The situation was moving.—And for Petra's side, it was moving in the worst possible direction.
The sight of Old Man Rom suddenly swaying and collapsing to the ground made Petra's eyes go wide. Within her chest, shock, confusion, bewilderment, and countless other emotions surged, threatening to consume her—but— —'Petra!!' "—!"
The Imaginary Subaru's shout barely pulled Petra's consciousness back from the brink.
It was fine to be surprised by the unexpected. No one was immune to being shaken when blindsided from outside their awareness. But as Petra, the Witch of Melancholy, there was something she needed to do before merely reacting.
The "Compression" of every possible reaction to the event that had occurred.
"You gotta be kidding me, what the hell just happened! Someone wake up Old Man Rom!" "Don't be ridiculous, his eyes just rolled back! What happened to him?!" "Hey, what do we do?! Without the old man, who's gonna—" "Damn it! It's
In an instant, compressing the spread-out panic into a single moment, Petra fulfilled her duty as the Witch of Melancholy.
The cause hadn't been identified. But the response was arrived at immediately, and everyone united in searching for the optimal course of action.—Of course, Petra was no different.
Leaving the command to Ram, who had taken over Old Man Rom's role as strategist, Petra activated her Authority of "Melancholy" and compressed the distance that had existed between herself and Old Man Rom.
"Old Man Rom…!"
The fallen giant's massive body was beyond Petra's slender arms to lift. But peering at the old giant's face, turned to the side, Petra choked on an unmistakable anomaly.—The fallen Old Man Rom's face was devoid of vitality, as though he had aged a hundred years in an instant.
—'He wasn't exactly bursting with life energy to begin with, but still…' "He wasn't like this just a moment ago, definitely. And if he thought something was wrong with his body, Old Man Rom would have reported it right away."
He knew full well that concealing a change in condition would only serve the enemy.
If the Authority of "Melancholy" had been putting excessive strain on him, or if there had been any sign he would collapse like this, he absolutely would have reported it on his own.
—'Could it be that you overused the Authority and burned through Old Man Rom's lifespan? No, that's too ridiculous to even entertain…' "That's exactly why I'm rejecting it… I don't think it's my Authority. Al did something to Old Man Rom."
—'But what?' Lost in the same dead end of questions, Petra wavered alongside Subaru.
All the while, under Ram's command, the Aldebastars continued their fight to corner Al, and Petra couldn't afford to devote all her thinking to Old Man Rom's collapse.
Thinking this, Petra started to straighten up— "—You idiot! That's the priority!"
"————"
From behind, Felt—her back turned to Petra—corrected her priorities outright.
Eyes wide, Petra watched as Felt, brandishing her Star Scepter, bared her sharp fangs.
"If we can't do something about that first, everyone's gonna go down the same way!"
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Felt's words were proven by the fact that the Aldebastars—who had been surrounding and cornering Al—had already lost members. Looking around, many who had been caught up in the fierce battle had collapsed on the ground.
Given what Felt had said, their collapse was for the same reason as Old Man Rom— "Old Man Rom wouldn't go down for nothing! Look for it! There's gotta be something!"
Spending only a few seconds on this exchange with Felt, Petra looked over Old Man Rom's massive body.
Old Man Rom was shrewd, and he was someone who would meet Felt's expectations. So if Felt believed there was something, then there certainly was.
—'But if he was hit by an Authority out of nowhere, there's no way he could have left anything behind…!' "…An Authority, you think?"
—'What else could it be?! If it were magic, Ram would've noticed!' "Yeah."
Felt's assertion × Trust in Ram's perception.
The combination of those two confirmed that what had been used to strike down Old Man Rom was Al's Authority. And if Old Man Rom had truly left something behind— "—! This."
Searching the prone Old Man Rom's body thoroughly, Petra noticed that the old giant's large fingers were dirty with soil. Freshly soiled—they bore the marks of scratching at the ground with his fingertips.
Shifting the fallen giant's massive body by charging into it—nearly tripping in the process—Petra found the message Old Man Rom had left in the dirt.
It was— —'A symbol? A kanji… No, a map symbol…' "No, something simpler!"
Cutting through the Imaginary Subaru's contemplation with a sharp cry, Petra held up her hand.
The marks Old Man Rom had left on the ground—four short vertical lines crossed by one thick horizontal line. Not a kanji or a map symbol, but a tally—the "five-bar" method where every five strokes counted as one.
In other words, just before his consciousness was taken— "—He was counting something?"
△▼△▼△▼△ —The bug of the Territory was beginning to eat away at Aldebaran's plan.
"Damn…"
The loathsomeness of that truth leaked through the gaps of Aldebaran's clenched teeth as curses.
The first to fall was Varga Cromwell, the Aldebastars' chief strategist. That they had been able to reorganize immediately despite losing their commander—was that thanks to Petra's Authority? But if that Authority's role was to fill the gaps, then rebuilding morale came down to individual fortitude.
Every time he felt the strength of each of those hearts, Aldebaran's own weakness was laid bare.
"Damn…!"
The instant he thought of his own inadequacy, another member of the Aldebastars dropped out. A thug with a massive cleaver slung over his shoulder collapsed to his knees, retching yellow bile before losing consciousness.
Aldebaran hadn't counterattacked. He couldn't. As a base strategy, he was pushing forward Garfiel, whose base stats vastly eclipsed his own, leaving him unable to mount a counter. And yet, the enemy's fighting force was being steadily whittled down—by the unintended result of his bugs.
—'No one can defeat the you I created.' The "Witch's" voice echoed again.
In that instant, another bug triggered, and another defector emerged.
For Aldebaran, it was agonizing. Painful. Unbearable.—The mental erosion that the Territory's bug brought—sometimes more abhorrent than physical "death." Aldebaran had learned that firsthand since his awakening on the gladiatorial island.
That was why he didn't desire an involuntary resolution brought about by the Territory's bug— "—What the hell are you blaming others for, huh?"
"—Huh?"
"I don't even need to look at your face to tell. Acting all self-sacrificing like Reinhardt, 'It's all my responsibility'—that's annoying enough, but yours is even worse than his."
From behind the crowd of Aldebastars, Felt glared at Aldebaran, who had been creating openings and breaking through. The sharp crimson of her gaze held nothing but genuine contempt and fury.
It was a passion she hadn't shown even when he'd taken her hostage, or when he'd ordered Roy to devour her "Memories." What could have truly touched her wrath this time—it was hard to tell.
Not because the giant who was like family had fallen, not because her own path had nearly been stolen—but the source of Felt's anger toward Aldebaran right now was— "When that princess was around, you did whatever she told you, and now that she's gone, you're doing whatever someone else tells you instead? You go around saying you'll make enemies of the whole damn world, but you don't have anything that's yours, do you?"
"————"
At Felt's words—her face showing genuine, bottomless fury—Aldebaran's cheek tightened, and then anger rose at the ignorant girl's absurdity.
Didn't have anything of his own—there were limits to such outrageous claims. To say Aldebaran had no self—without even knowing why Aldebaran could only ever be Aldebaran—how dare she.
Indignation burned through his organs, even sending a familiar ache down the arms he no longer had.
Such useless passion should be thrown away. He was supposed to be good at that. Cutting it off, scoffing, mocking what was in the way, tossing it aside. Getting caught up in such things and losing sight of his objective—that was putting the cart before the horse. Never confronting genuine, living emotion—that was Aldebaran's specialty—no, it was a survival mechanism he had cultivated over the eighteen years since his release from that black sphere.
So this time, too, he would do the same— "She's absolutely right, isn't she?!" "Pay for what you've done!" "Drop dead, you idiot!" "Nobody's on your side anymore!" "Lord Al, prepare yourself." "The time for judgment has come." "Squeal like the pig you are." "—What an idiot."
"—!"
The torrent of vitriol and contempt directed at Aldebaran—normally, he would have let it wash over him as always. But his thoughts were being "Compressed," forcibly processed. The processing circuit, accelerated to a speed incomparable to normal, chewed through the unnecessary thoughts, the emotions.
—'No one can defeat the you I created.' —'No one can defeat the you I created.' —'No one can defeat the you I created.' The voice was flooding inward, filling up the part of him that screamed he couldn't let this continue. Unwilling to simply submit, Aldebaran searched for the girl at the root of it all— The Witch of Melancholy, who forced him to consider everything— "—He was counting something?"
"————"
He spotted her in the distance—the Witch of Melancholy,
In that instant, from deep within Aldebaran, a thick, dark, hot impulse overflowed, taking the shape of words.
"—It's because of the star, wasn't it."
"Yeah, that's right. Not because you're at anyone's beck and call. That's what's really in your heart."
At the words spun from Aldebaran's voice, hoarse with passion, Felt bared her teeth.
And despite the fact that there was absolutely, completely, not a shred, not an iota, not a millimeter of resemblance between them—it looked exactly like the same smile
A nightmare.—He would end it.
And for the first time, Aldebaran deliberately triggered the Territory's bug.
"—Territory Expand. Matrix Redefinition."
△▼△▼△▼△ —Dear God, dear Buddha, dear Od Laguna. I swear I will never ask for anyone's kindness in this life.
△▼△▼△▼△ "—Territory Expand. Matrix Redefinition."
Hearing the words Al had spoken, Petra turned at the unmistakable shift she felt.
That declaration, which she'd already heard numerous times during this battle, was probably one of the activation conditions for Al's Authority. As Old Man Rom had hypothesized beforehand—regarding the Territory, the Matrix—Al's "time regression" appeared to be limited in scope but powerful in effect.
The span was shorter than
—'If you could manually save in a baseball game, you could save and load after every pitch at bat, memorize the next pitch type and location, and hit home runs every time, right?' "I get it, but that's hard to explain. Do you really do that?"
—'Explaining gaming concepts to someone who only knows them on the surface is tough…' Having read Natsuki Subaru's "Book of the Dead," she understood more than just the surface—but in the sense that the "memory" lacked personal conviction, what Imaginary Subaru said was true.
She had been peering into Subaru's "Memories," but Petra's sensibility was ultimately her own. Of course, as with her attitude toward
In any case— —'Don't take your eyes off him.' "Got it."
The shift in his voice and atmosphere—Al's fight with them had likely entered its next stage.
In the meantime, the same method that felled Old Man Rom was still draining their forces, but the main force of the Aldebastars—centered on Ram, Garfiel, and Felt—had miraculously survived. The "Compressed" thoughts and coordination had become a tremendous asset, and it was worth Petra continuing to push the Authority of "Melancholy" to its limit despite all the drawbacks.
"Let's do this, you bastards!!"
""—Yeah!!""
As if to bolster Petra's resolve, Felt's rallying cry sent morale skyrocketing.
The pressure the Aldebastars were piling on was steadily draining Al's reserves, eroding his mental stamina, and pushing his mind and body to the brink of critical exhaustion.
All that remained was a war of attrition—whose willpower would give out first, who would be unable to stay standing. Just as Petra gritted her teeth and steeled herself— "Huh?"
Her mouth, which she was certain had been firmly closed, fell open involuntarily, and Petra was struck dumb.
And no wonder. Just moments ago, the Aldebastars had rallied, morale at full strength, and launched their all-out assault on Al.—And now the members of the Aldebastars were toppling over one after another like dominoes, utterly powerless to resist.
"————"
Ram, Garfiel. Felt, and Fran and Grassis, Rachins and
Everyone. Everyone.—No. Only one person was still standing.
"It's the star."
Stepping over the collapsed ring of the Aldebastars, a figure advanced, toying with the metal fitting on their black iron helmet.
Hearing those words, Petra felt a sensation like part of her brain had gone numb, unable to think clearly. Thought shutdown—she couldn't let that happen. "Compression" could fill the gaps between events, but it couldn't fill the void itself.
"It's because of the star."
Speaking, Al's hand withdrew from his helmet and reached toward Petra, who stood frozen.
She needed to respond—counter—find a solution— —'Petra! Compress straight behind you!!' "—!"
Reflexively obeying the demand that sounded like a roar, Petra compressed the space and launched herself backward. Creating far more distance than a mere leap would have, Petra landed on shaky knees and looked at Al across a stretch of rocky ground.
In her gaze, Al opened and closed the hand that had nearly caught her, then sighed deeply. Maintaining the distance, they locked eyes— "—Play ball."
× × × The instant Petra thought Al had spoken the starting signal for the game— Overlapping his utterance, a different version of Al's voice followed. The phenomenon of simultaneous vocalization by the same person stopped Petra's brain from processing the situation for an instant.
But before that hesitation could become fatal, she tried to recover— "Let's do this, you bastards!!"
""—Yeah!!""
"Huh?!"
Immediately after, a valiant war cry and its response shook the space to its core, nearly blowing her mind.
What had materialized there was the intact formation of the Aldebastars—the very same force that should have collapsed moments ago. With Ram as commander, Garfiel at the vanguard, and Felt wielding her Star Scepter as the finisher, they were about to collide with Al.
But— "Hey, hey, hey, wait—this is—"
The Imaginary Subaru, hovering beside her, was struck speechless with disbelief. Even knowing his bewilderment mirrored her own, no sense of relief came to Petra's heart.
But before she could even voice her own shock and the words to hold herself back, the situation moved.
"——Ugh."
It was, without question, a replay of the scene from moments before.
The members of the Aldebastars collapsed all at once, the force that had seemed so formidable crumbling to nothing. As Ram, Garfiel, and Felt—all strong, all courageous—fell, Petra once again found herself the only one remaining, exchanging gazes with Al.
"It's the star."
"————"
"It's because of the star."
And the declaration was identical, the follow-up action was the same, and Petra—not prompted, but driven by her own heart's emotion—leapt backward through "Compression."
Once more, she found herself in a standoff with Al across the distance, hearing his sighing voice.
It was— "—Play ball."
—And so began the endless hell of Petra Leyte.