"In other words, this isn't a Holy Gold Coin—it's as if Garfiel gave a full-power strike, and Lady
"I see, so that's how it works… But wait! Making Garfiel cry would be cruel. I want to get along with Garfiel in a different way."
"Then you wouldn't need to counterattack at all. If Lady Emilia deflected all of Garfiel's attacks with a cool expression, his spirit would eventually break, and you'd be able to settle things peacefully."
"That's a relief… Relief? Really? Even after his spirit's already broken?"
Inside her mind, Garfiel was apparently running around busy—crying like a child, slumping to his knees in despair—but for now, Rem breathed a sigh of relief, confident she'd managed to explain the broad strokes of Aldebaran's Authority, "Correlated Time," before handing the role of explainer off to
"As expected of you, Rem. You managed to convince Lady Emilia beautifully."
"I'm glad I could be of help to my sister. Garfiel had to be the sacrifice, though…"
"If all it takes for things to progress is him crying and moping around, Garfiel would probably consider it a win. I hear he's sleeping soundly, so I'll pay him a visit later."
"Yes. He'd be overjoyed to receive a visit from you, sister…"
Ram shrugged her slender shoulders with a weary air, and a complex bitterness ran through Rem's heart.
Now that she'd recovered her memories, she remembered that she and Garfiel had originally been at odds over Ram. Since they were children, Rem had disliked Garfiel's brazen affections for Ram, and they'd gotten into countless arguments over it.
But thinking back to Garfiel's efforts in the Empire, and the conversations they'd exchanged on the journey home, it felt wrong to treat him based solely on those old impressions.
Moreover, the current Garfiel had failed in his duty to protect Subaru and
"Driving Garfiel further into despair would be too cruel… Fine. I'll yield on this. Right now, Garfiel needs to recover as quickly as possible and become part of the fighting force to rescue that person."
"That's right. But I don't mind being bound by Rem's possessiveness. If Rem finds it unpleasant, I can always put Garfiel on the back burner?"
"And you know perfectly well I'm not going to say 'don't do that,' sister."
"Who knows?"
Rem sighed at Ram's radiant, coolly composed reply.
How much of Ram's thoughtfulness and care had Rem squandered uselessly during her slumber and her time without memories?
Of course, Rem hadn't just burdened Ram. She'd caused trouble for everyone in the camp and those beyond it. Fortunately—or perhaps not—Rem had had zero friendships with anyone outside their circle, so the collateral damage in that regard had been minimal.
"If anything, I feel like the version of me who'd lost her memories was actually better at connecting with people like Kirsch and Mizelda than I was before I remembered…"
Looking back on the record of her life that had returned to her, Rem arrived at that observation.
The fact that Rem without her memories—the one stranded, desperate to survive in the Volakian Empire where she'd been flung by circumstance—had been more socially adept than her current self was frankly embarrassing.
And the thought of how she'd repeatedly pushed Subaru away, even though he'd tried so earnestly to reach her when she couldn't trust anyone—she wanted to strangle herself.
"If only Subaru had spoken to me while looking me straight in the eyes… Ah, but I was the one who refused that. Ugh…"
Rem who wanted to defend herself—it wasn't her fault, she'd lost her memories—and Rem who wanted to convince herself that if she'd faced Subaru honestly, her sincerity would have gotten through, wrestled with each other.
Either way, the fact remained that Rem, starting with Subaru, had caused enormous trouble for everyone around her, and she had to pour everything she had into making amends.
"First, I'll resolve this situation safely. Then, to show Subaru my remorse, I'll break my own fingers… Right?"
"…If you do that, Subaru won't be happy—he'll be so shocked he might die, so absolutely don't do it."
"Oh, Petra…"
When Rem turned at the sound of that quiet voice, Petra was there with a troubled look on her face. Thinking she shouldn't have said that out loud, Rem held up a palm and said, "No—"
"Please don't stop me. Rem— I feel terrible toward Subaru. If I don't punish myself for my own inadequacy, I can't face him…"
"So you want to punish yourself not because you want to apologize to Subaru, but because it would make you feel better?"
"That's not what I meant…"
"Even if that's not what you mean, that's how it's going to come across. Understand? What Subaru wants from you isn't to be punished—it's for you to accept the happiness you missed out on while you were asleep."
"———"
The softness at the corners of Petra's eyes and her words made Rem involuntarily hold her breath.
They carried a tender, almost scolding sweetness reminiscent of the words Subaru had spoken to Rem on the morning after the incident in
For some reason, Subaru in that moment and Petra before her overlapped, just slightly.
"…That must be proof of just how much everyone has been influenced by him."
"Hmm? What is it, Lady Rem?"
"Nothing. Your words stirred up a dear, nostalgic feeling in me. Do you remember? What happened in Arlam Village when the Demon Beasts attacked."
"…Um, yes. I remember."
At Rem's question, Petra's cheeks stiffened slightly. Her gaze then flickered toward a girl standing in the corner of the room—Meili.
Apparently, this girl had joined the camp while Rem was asleep and had played her part in the Kingdom while Emilia and the others were fighting in the Empire. Rem felt she might recognize her, but why was Petra so fixated on her right now?
"Ahem. Anyway, Lady Rem, please stop doing things that hurt yourself. If something happened to your precious fingers—those white fish of yours—the whole world would be plunged into darkness."
"Petra…"
"If you absolutely won't stop, then I'll break my fingers too in solidarity!"
"Petra!?"
Rem's voice pitched upward involuntarily as Petra clenched her small hand into a fist and thrust it forward. Seeing Rem's reaction, Petra grinned mischievously and continued, "That's why—"
"You mustn't do that."
"……I understand."
Pressed by Petra, Rem nodded hesitantly.
It wasn't just that she'd been won over by Petra's passion. More than that, the Subaru-like impression Petra gave off had silenced any objection.
The way Petra had just reeled her back—throwing her own extremity at Rem to cancel out Rem's impulsiveness—was exactly like Subaru.
"———"
Through Petra, Rem felt keenly just how great Subaru's influence was, and fell silent.
In a way, Petra's current demeanor was like proof that she understood Subaru even more deeply than Rem did, and it wouldn't have been strange for Rem to feel jealousy or envy. Yet strangely, Rem felt none of that toward Petra.
She didn't know why, but as she thought of Subaru, a different splinter was lodged inside her.
It was— "Aldebaran's Authority."
The Authority of "Correlated Time" that she'd just finished explaining to Emilia using the Holy Gold Coin.
Thanks to Ram's patient explanation, Rem understood how terrifying it was. But while breaking it down in her own mind to explain to Emilia, a suspicion had begun to bubble up.
An Authority that observed the future and rewound time to avert unwanted outcomes— "Did he, too?"
The faint spark of suspicion grew rapidly inside Rem, spreading until its flames scorched the plains of her thoughts. And among the ashes that remained, she found multiple embers that had kindled and stoked the fire.
For example, Subaru always exuded the dense scent of miasma.
For example, that miasma frequently grew thicker, as if wrapping around him.
For example, Subaru would perceive the state of affairs with inexplicable insight and arrive at solutions.
For example, thanks to Subaru's presence, many deaths had been avoided—Rem herself being one of them.
Each individual element might feel like nitpicking or grasping at straws. But with the single anomaly of an "Authority" as the core, they fit together with startling precision.
But if, by some slim chance, Rem's intuition was correct, then the boy known as
If he could redo any amount of time and reshape events to suit himself, he could behave however he pleased and remake the world at will.
But Subaru hadn't done that, and he didn't use it that way. —Rem, the quintessential example of things not going Subaru's way, understood that better than anyone.
If Subaru had ever used his power to manipulate someone's heart, Rem would never have ended up breaking his fingers.
In other words, the very fact that those fingers were broken was proof of Subaru's sincerity.
"I should break my fingers too, so Subaru and I can match—!"
"I just got you to give up on that once!?"
"It's not what you think, Petra. It's not the negative reason of not being able to face him—it's the positive reason of wanting to share his pain—"
"Negative, positive, up, down—it's all NO GOOD!"
Rem's enthusiasm fizzled out, utterly unconvincing.
Regardless, setting aside the finger-breaking debate, Rem's conviction that Subaru possessed an Authority in the same category as Aldebaran's grew stronger. However, after hearing about "Correlated Time," neither Ram nor Emilia had arrived at the same conclusion as Rem.
That wasn't because Rem understood Subaru more deeply than they did.
"…Actually, it's the opposite."
The reason Emilia and the others hadn't reached this conclusion—unlike Rem—was that everyone except the sleeping Rem had witnessed Subaru's daily efforts firsthand.
From what Rem had heard, during the year and more she'd been asleep, Subaru had formed a contract with Beatrice and, to become a knight worthy of Emilia, had pursued relentless self-improvement. Because they knew of those efforts, none of them questioned whether factors other than Subaru's own merit might account for his achievements.
Rem didn't know about those efforts—and the frustration of that knowledge being torn from her heart was almost unbearable. That was why there was such a gulf between Rem's perception of what Subaru was capable of and everyone else's.
But that changed nothing about Subaru's heroism.
Above all, the fact that Subaru had ended up in this situation proved that even with an Authority, he was not omnipotent, and the truth of how he had strained his wits and courage to take someone's hand and move forward was unshaken.
Even now, there was still a way for Rem to be of use to Subaru.
"Once I've figured that out—sister!"
The captive Subaru was calling for help. —The moment that conviction crystallized in her mind, Rem hurried to share her thoughts with Ram and the others, hoping to add to the pool of information for discussion.
Her reasoning was largely intuitive and based on the Demon Clan's sense of smell for miasma, so convincing them would be difficult. But the clever Ram and the magnanimous Emilia should at least hear her out seriously.
Thinking this, Rem turned to face Ram and the others to speak— "I have just returned. My apologies for the tardiness."
It happened in that instant.
Two men appeared in the grand hall of the Royal Villa where Rem and the others had gathered, as if blinking into existence. One was a handsome, austere man wearing a monocle—Krinkel. And the person Krinkel had brought along was a master to whom Rem owed an immense, long-standing debt of gratitude— "Roswaal! You've come!"
"Yeees, I've heard the situation from Krinkel. When I heard that Subaru-kun and Beatrice are in dire straits, and that the very foundation of the Royal Selection is trembling—well, even my travel fatigue from the Empire can't keep me from rushing ba-aack."
"My, how reassuring. We should all discuss this right away… But before that—"
"Hmm?"
The towering figure who had appeared—Roswaal—was greeted by Emilia, who then deliberately gestured with her hand toward the person standing directly behind him: Rem.
As Emilia made that gesture, Roswaal turned, and his mismatched eyes focused on Rem. In response, Rem pinched the hem of her skirt and curtsied.
"Roswaal, it has been far too long since I last had the pleasure. For the escort to the Empire, and for everything else—I offer my sincerest gratitude. —Rem has returned."
"———"
At Rem's words of gratitude and greeting of return, Roswaal's throat made the faintest sound. The very next instant, his towering frame swayed as though struck by dizziness.
"Roswaal!"
"Ah, no no, I'm quite alright. …I was simply overwhelmed by the sudden flood of information."
Ram caught him instinctively, and Roswaal responded with a wry smile.
The utterance of Rem's "name" must have triggered a tidal wave of recovering "memories." It was a shame that the bond hadn't come from the earnest polishing of the iron ball—Morning Star—that Subaru had so diligently worked on. But watching her empty place in the world being filled once more wasn't an unpleasant feeling, even if it might be called unseemly.
Either way— "Welcome back, Rem. Once this situation settles, we absolutely must talk—especially about what's been happening at the mansion during your absence, and particularly regarding Ram."
"Yes. I look forward to it from the bottom of my heart."
Roswaal, with his remarkable understanding, absorbed the shock of remembering Rem with extraordinary speed. Admiring his master's mental fortitude, Rem moved to steer the conversation back on track.
But just then, her sleeve was tugged from behind— "Master, wasn't Frederica with you?"
"Ah, I left Frederica behind in the Barielle domain. It was something she'd taken on, and I couldn't bear to leave
"Krinkel, doing Frederica's job…? That's impossible, isn't it?"
"You're harsh. All the more reason to work hard to dispel that doubt. I shall strive."
Petra scowled as Krinkel, with his unflappable composure, vowed to give it his all.
Watching this exchange from the side, Rem studied the profile of Petra—the one who had tugged her sleeve—and couldn't help but tilt her head.
"Petra?"
Petra had clearly cut off Rem's train of thought and steered the conversation elsewhere. Of course, Frederica's whereabouts were a concern, but the maneuver was laden with meaning.
While Rem frowned in puzzlement, Emilia was introducing
And then— "…Lady Rem, did you also figure out something about Subaru?"
"! That phrasing—you, too, about Subaru's Authority—"
"Don't say it out loud. …'She' might hear."
"———"
Petra pressed a finger to her own lips, and Rem clamped her mouth shut.
Petra hadn't stated it outright, but her phrasing and tone had hit the mark exactly—she, too, believed that Subaru possessed the Authority of "Correlated Time." From her follow-up words, Rem could infer that Petra knew even more than she did.
The notion of "She" hearing was a rather strange expression, but— "Given that Reinhardt is holding back the
"It's connected to that, too. I'm not absolutely certain, but I think it's better not to speak of this out loud. —I never want to go through that again."
Petra's whispered words were drenched in an earnest, almost frightening conviction—as if she had personally experienced the consequences of uttering that forbidden word.
Naturally, Rem swallowed the words she had been about to form, pulling them back down into her throat. But that meant forgoing the chance to reveal the full truth of Subaru's deeds— "…That person wouldn't care about that, would he?"
Before and after losing her memories, Rem had been given two chances to know Subaru.
What she'd learned in those two chances was his heartbreakingly courageous sincerity—being judged without pretense, everything laid bare, was secondary at best.
Wanting all of Subaru's deeds and thoughts to be praised and rewarded was simply Rem's own value system.
"Lady Rem, let me ask you one thing."
As Rem swallowed her unspoken prayers, lingering in the bittersweet aftertaste of emotion, Petra spoke.
It wasn't especially quiet, but to Rem it seemed as though Petra had taken the utmost care to ensure that only she could hear it—that no one else would.
Sensing that seriousness, and feeling once again a resemblance to Subaru, Rem drew her chin in.
"Lady Rem—if it meant saving Subaru, could you do anything?"
Behind that question, Rem sensed Petra saying "I can."
It wasn't a competitive feeling. But her deliberation lasted less than a second.
"Yes, of course. —I am Rem, Subaru's Rem."
There was no hesitation whatsoever in giving that answer.
△▼△▼△▼△ —Aldebaran was acutely aware that exhaustion was piling up with every passing moment.
"Foraging meals locally and licking ice made by cooling the air works for food and water… but cutting into sleep time is genuinely brutal."
The relentless, methodical sabotage directed at them was wearing Aldebaran's group down without end.
What made it particularly nasty was that most of the damage from the harassment wasn't devastating enough to cause injuries or force anyone off the front lines—it was designed purely to drain resources. And yet, they'd also mix in hazards like the rockslides from the quarry, making it impossible to let your guard down at any point.
The biggest problem right now was that there was no way to completely prevent it.
"Militant bureaucrat… Militant bureaucrat, huh. That rough ring isn't just for show."
The Emilia camp's civil official,
Within the camp, he served as everyone's punching bag and shock absorber—the sort of indispensable yet perpetually underappreciated position. He was not someone you needed to be wary of in a crisis. —That assumption had been dead wrong.
Aldebaran had severely underestimated the fact that Otto could speak with any living creature. And he was paying for that miscalculation with an unbelievable volume and intensity of attacks.
"And the problem isn't just the insidious bureaucrat… There's Father and
On top of the sabotage, another source of frustration for Aldebaran was the discord that had erupted among the traveling companions—a seed of trouble that couldn't be ignored.
Felt, who hadn't originally been part of Aldebaran's planned roster, had become a liability. The necessity of keeping her close due to the "Aldebaran" connection had now produced serious fallout.
The problem was that Felt had touched a nerve with Heinkel—one he absolutely did not want touched.
Heinkel, who had stabbed his own father Wilhelm when the latter had stood in the way as an obstacle while Reinhardt, Heinkel's own son, held the Witch of Envy at the Augria Sand Dunes. Heinkel, whose mind had been on the verge of shattering. Felt had recklessly prodded that wound and nearly paid with her life. —No, in fact, she had paid with her life on multiple occasions.
If Aldebaran hadn't used his "Domain" to rewind, Felt's death would have been certain.
That would have earned the wrath of "Aldebaran" (the dragon) and pushed Heinkel into an untenable position. It was already an unnatural situation with the "Divine Dragon's" consciousness overwriting Aldebaran. If something further stimulated the "Dragon's" instincts, the magic of the Book of the Dead could unravel entirely.
So Aldebaran had forcibly cut off the conversation between Heinkel and Felt—but— "That's just a band-aid. If I leave Father and Felt alone together, another knife fight is inevitable. But trusting anyone other than Yae to restrain that guy Roy is out of the question… Damn it, this isn't one of those puzzles about ferrying a wolf and a goat across a river. And I suck at those anyway."
The situation was essentially a logic puzzle.
Having to divert brainpower to an unnecessary battle of wits was far from ideal, but even so— "If you just got rid of Lord Heinkel or Lady Felt—whichever you preferred—it would make things much easier, you know?"
"…I told you, I'm not doing that. How many times do I have to say it?"
A light voice cut into his musings, and Aldebaran clicked his tongue in response.
Yae approached with her hands clasped behind her back and a dancer's light step. Aldebaran narrowed his eyes inside his helmet at the sight of her alone.
"Hey, why are you by yourself? Someone should be with—"
"Lady Felt is with Bolt, the Archbishop of Gluttony is strung up, and Lord Heinkel is tied down. For now, everything's calm."
"…That doesn't mean there aren't any holes in the coverage."
"True. But the biggest hole about to open up is in you, Al-sama~"
Saying this, Yae squatted directly in front of Aldebaran, who was sitting with one knee drawn up. Those cat-like crimson eyes peered up at him, and Aldebaran felt a squirm of discomfort.
No matter how gruffly he responded, her assessment was correct. —Among the group, Aldebaran was without question the one who had been most heavily depleted.
"But that's only natural. I have the biggest goal and the most to accomplish. So it's only right that I shoulder the heaviest burden…"
"And if you collapse halfway through the effort, it won't be pretty, will it?"
"…What are you trying to say?"
"That's wh—y—, what I've been trying to tell you all along: before you get completely flattened, let's lower the victory conditions."
"That's exactly what I—"
"Why does Al-sama insist on using clean methods?"
Resting her chin on her folded knees, Yae delivered the question with razor-sharp precision.
Her eyes, narrowed to slits, opened slightly, and sensing the playfulness drain from her voice, Aldebaran found his reflexive retort silenced.
Seizing on that silence, Yae continued.
"Our enemies won't fight fair. Of course they won't—they've had their allies stolen and been wounded by Al-sama, and on top of that, the fate of the world hangs in the balance. Naturally, they'll fight to the death. Straightforward, head-on, with no qualms about underhanded methods."
"…I know I'm putting you through a lot. The endless harassment, yes, but back in the capital I even got you into a clash with the Sword Devil."
"That's not what I'm getting at. …Well, in a way, I suppose it is a complaint of sorts~"
"What—"
The words "are you trying to say" never came.
Without warning, Aldebaran couldn't dodge Yae's outstretched hand, and she pressed his forehead—sending him toppling backward. And as Aldebaran blinked up in surprise, Yae, who had pushed him down, slid over him in a single fluid motion.
"———"
From point-blank range, their gazes locked.
In that instant, Aldebaran immediately prodded the poison capsule embedded in his back molar with his tongue tip, ready to take his own life and redo this moment— "My lady is dead, Al-sama."
"—!"
"She's dead. You've said it yourself, so many times."
Those words, spoken at kissing distance, stopped Aldebaran short and made his throat tighten.
It went without saying.
Because she was gone, Aldebaran had unshackled every chain that bound him, prepared to make enemies of all existence and plunge the world into chaos—and he'd started this knowing full well what would happen.
"Really?"
"Hmm…?"
"Really? She's nowhere to be found. So nothing matters anymore. Who I betray, what I destroy, what anyone thinks of me—it doesn't matter at all. …Really?"
Pressed with repeated questions, Aldebaran couldn't move.
Even now, a single motion of his tongue could erase this moment. He could use that as insurance—or rather, even without that insurance, he might not have moved.
That was how much power Yae's words and her gaze held—more binding than steel wire.
Really, she asked. What kind of answer was she looking for?
Really, she asked. It was true. What else was there to say?
Really, she asked. She was questioning the rightness of Aldebaran's resolve.
"The outcome may be a mess. The damage may be staggering. But I also think this: —your methods have always been, always been, beautifully clean."
"Clean…?"
"You faced your opponents head-on, outmaneuvered their schemes, exploited their weaknesses in the gaps without causing fatalities. Your resolve has been clean, Al-sama. That's exactly why you've been pushed to this desperate, terrible place."
"———"
"Al-sama… stop getting burned by the sun."
Yae's slender hands glided up to bracket his helmet from both sides. Not to remove it—but to keep him from looking away.
That gesture, and the whispered words, shackled Aldebaran's soul and sealed his movement.
Stop getting burned by the sun.
"Crawl through the mud on the ground, and stop looking up at the sky—bathe in blood instead. It's alright. I'm already soiled; I won't mind bathing in mud and blood together."
"…No matter what you say, I—"
"You don't have to give up what you won't give up. But if that's what you want, then stop trying to be clean. If you'd just let go of even that—"
She cut herself off there, and Yae's lips curved into a half-moon.
The smile that bled through her crimson features was heartbreakingly fragile, and it overlapped with someone else's smile.
"—No one can beat my Al-sama."
—That was the smile of someone who had shaped Aldebaran, carved into his very soul.
"———"
Facing Yae's blood-red smile—at close range, pleading, adoring, lamenting, entreating, fierce yet ephemeral—Aldebaran exhaled a long breath.
And then— "—Domain Expansion: Matrix Redefinition."
Because what he couldn't bear to let go of was everything.
He was prepared to be covered in blood and mud.
△▼△▼△▼△ "Gu—"
A piercing headache lanced through Otto's brain, and he let out a faint groan.
Over twenty hours had passed since he'd released the "Blessing of Voice." During that time, he hadn't been actively monitoring every open channel, but information flowed in of its own accord, and he couldn't afford to miss a single scrap.
In practice, Otto had maintained a state of half-released Blessing, sacrificing sleep and food to continue this solitary battle for what felt like an eternity.
"…Lady Emilia appears to have joined forces with the Margrave's group."
It was nothing compared to tracking Aldebaran's group, but to keep tabs on the movements of their allies, Otto had essentially deployed animal scouts both ahead of and behind his position.
The reason he hadn't made active contact with Emilia's group was partly that he didn't want his concentration disrupted, but mainly because he wanted to avoid anyone stopping him from doing the unthinkable.
If they found out he'd already bled through more than a cup's worth of nosebleed, Emilia and the others would absolutely shut this down.
"But it's necessary."
Before long, Aldebaran and his group would reach the Great Moguro Gap in the
It was nothing more than Otto's intuition, but he was convinced that allowing them to reach that goal meant defeat, and that stopping them was the last chance to recover Natsuki Subaru and Beatrice.
So he had to prevent it. But Otto didn't have the decisive blow.
The decisive blow always belonged to someone other than Otto.
All Otto Suwen could do was provide covering fire for that someone. —And so, even if it meant wringing every drop of blood from his body, he would pour everything he had into that fire.
"Don't you go dying on me, young master."
"…You're not going to tell me not to push myself?"
"Pushing himself is practically your hobby. I'm not going to tell you to stop doing something you can't stop doing. So just don't die."
Otto smiled ruefully at his beloved dragon Fru Fru, who wore a knowing face.
Though currently operating separately from most of the camp, Otto kept Fru Fru at his side as a means of transportation and a conversational partner in emergencies—so he wouldn't lose himself by becoming too deeply immersed in other creatures' thoughts and words through the Blessing of Voice.
As expected of someone he'd known since childhood, Fru Fru could see through Otto's thinking and behavior, and that dependability was a lifeline more often than not.
Especially when they were operating in remote mountain terrain like this.
"I'm not sure if it'll help, but why not get a little sleep? From what we heard, the other side is resting too… You could probably take a break without worrying about losing them."
"What are you saying? If they're resting, I shouldn't disturb them. This is exactly the window of opportunity."
"Calling this situation a 'window of opportunity' is your bad habit showing again, young master."
Fru Fru shook his thick neck with an exasperated air. That leisurely tone and attitude might seem recklessly nonchalant given the circumstances, but knowing it was deliberate—designed not to push Otto into panic—kept him from getting annoyed.
In truth, just talking to Fru Fru gradually restored Otto's mental energy. —Thanks to that, he might just have enough left for one more push.
"It's not like I did this on purpose, you know."
"Whatever the reason, you've helped me. My Fru Fru is the best partner I could ask for."
"You're too smooth, young master!"
Fru Fru growled low, sounding disgruntled, and Otto let a smile slip. He took a deep breath, then refocused his attention on the channels, resuming his communion with the birds, insects, and schools of fish he'd entrusted with tracking Aldebaran's group, trying to pick up every clue about their movements.
Of course, since he needed to exchange words with the animals, Otto's tracking was inevitably a few steps behind real-time, with a slight lag.
Still, the fact that he hadn't lost Aldebaran and was keeping up the pursuit without slackening owed much to the Zoda insects. Most animals were too afraid of the "Divine Dragon's" presence to follow closely, no matter how earnestly Otto pleaded.
But the Zoda insects were different. Valuing the survival and future of the colony over the individual, they were fearless enough to approach even the "Divine Dragon" and bring back intelligence. Once this was over, he had to make good on his promise of a safe haven for them—and treat them generously.
"If you side with the Zoda insects too much, Frederica and Petra are only going to give you even dirtier looks."
"I know why so many women dislike Zoda insects. But once they hear about what they've accomplished here, maybe they'll change their minds."
Even so, Otto understood that was a long shot.
Not just the women—even Garfiel, whose battle with Otto in the "
"—I think that might be a bit difficult~?"
"———"
In an instant, a voice that was neither insect nor small animal nor Fru Fru's brushed Otto's ear. He swallowed his breath, and the next moment, his body was yanked into the air.
"Young master!!"
There was no dragon carriage—he'd been riding directly on Fru Fru's back. His weight vanished, and Fru Fru let out a desperate cry.
But even Fru Fru's shout was in vain. Otto was dangled from a scrawny tree in the mountain forest, a thin cord wrapped around his neck and wrists cutting off his air as he kicked his feet in empty space.
He barely managed to jam a finger between his throat and the cord to stave off immediate suffocation—but— "Kuh… gah…"
"You didn't look like a combatant, but that instantaneous reaction was impressive. The 'always on a battlefield' mindset, perhaps? With reflexes like that, you could've made a fine shinobi, mister."
Swaying helplessly, Otto looked down to see a slender shadow rise to his feet below him. Crimson hair, a waiter's uniform with Waso elements—the features matched.
One of Aldebaran's followers—an enemy Otto had to cut down— "You see, I told you, Al-sama. —No one can beat you."
—The crimson shinobi,