Lye slowly straightened up in front of Subaru, his movement accompanied by the unsettling creak of his knees. The sound echoed eerily in the tense silence, like dry branches snapping under the weight of something dreadful. Around him, the mabeasts stirred as if awakened by some ancient signal, their movements synchronized and uncanny. Dozens of glowing eyes locked onto Subaru, fangs bared, low growls building into a dissonant hum. It wasn't chaos—it was order. A dreadful order, like the drums of war calling from beneath the soil.
Subaru didn't flinch. He stood tall, his breath ragged, each inhale like dragging knives through his lungs. Every muscle in his body was screaming in pain, trembling under the weight of repeated death and desperation. He should have collapsed long ago. But stubbornness—his one unbreakable trait—held him upright. His face was carved from stone, unreadable. But his eyes… they were vacant. Hollow. Neither fury nor terror nor even resolve dwelled within them now—only the flickering remnants of a will eroded by endless suffering.
A voice rang out in the hollow of his mind, clear and grating. The familiarity of it brought with it an unwanted comfort. Flugel.
"Oi... Now's hardly the time to play the tragic hero. Your mana reserves are basically gone. You're like a dried-up sponge at this point. Can't even cast a whisper."
Subaru ground his teeth together, clicking his tongue sharply. His inner fury, no longer hot, had calcified into something darker and colder. "Tch... What does it matter? I die, I come back. Again and again. As long as this twisted play ends, I don't care how many times I fall."
Lye took a deliberate step forward, his boots crunching softly on blood-soaked grass. His eyes scanned Subaru like a predator dissecting its prey, cold and analytical. His hands flexed around the hilts of his twin daggers. There was something unreadable in his expression—half curiosity, half disdain. "So you're the famous fake Archbishop of Envy. The fool who clings to pain like a badge. And yet... something's wrong. Something's off. Why do I feel the Authority of Pride dripping off you like rot from a corpse?!"
Subaru tilted his head, a mirthless smile crawling onto his face. It didn't reach his eyes. "Why, indeed? Maybe the answer's buried in the question. But since you're so curious, I won't keep you in suspense: I killed Lucas. Took his Authority for myself. Stripped it from his flesh and soul. What remains now is a husk—a monument to the rot he left behind."
Not far away, Elsa still writhed among the mabeasts. Her skin was torn and bloodied, yet her glare remained sharp, edged with irritation more than pain. Her voice cut through the growling like a dagger through silk. "Great. You killed Pride sin. Yay for us. Now, any chance you might get these mangy beasts off me? They're chewing through my arms like jerky. Again."
Subaru shifted his gaze toward her, the hardness in his features softening slightly. His voice carried fatigue now, not just in tone but in soul. "Ah... right. Sorry. One second."
He moved forward, passing within inches of Lye, whose eyes narrowed but did not interfere. The mabeasts circled around him, but none dared attack. Their growls deepened, but they didn't pounce. Some primal instinct, deeper than fear, made them hesitate. Subaru's presence reeked of something older and more terrible than them. A darkness that predated fangs and claws.
When he reached Elsa, the beasts twitched and snarled, but still didn't strike. Her blood painted the ground, the metallic scent thick in the air. Subaru stepped calmly into the center of the pack. His hand moved—and the world seemed to skip.
With speed that defied logic, he unsheathed his dagger. What followed was a dance of death, elegant and terminal. In fluid arcs, he slashed through beast after beast, each strike clean, decisive. Blood sprayed in crescents, bodies dropped like puppets cut from their strings. And then—silence. Only the dripping of blood remained.
Elsa slumped free from their grasp. Her wounds were many, but already fading, her unnatural regeneration kicking in. Subaru extended a hand.
"Wounds that vanish in moments... Sometimes, I really envy that."
She took it, rising with practiced ease. The slashes along her arms and legs disappeared in seconds. She gave him a lopsided smirk and exhaled through her nose. "Wouldn't it be nice if clothes fixed themselves that fast too? This outfit's practically shreds now."
Lye had been watching. Observing. Analyzing. His gaze shifted between them like a scientist recording a failed experiment. And then, fury.
"Two Authorities?! You wield two?! That shouldn't be possible! That can't be possible! You're just a fake! But... it doesn't matter. I know your name now. I can EAT you!"
He moved like lightning. No wasted motion, no hesitation. He lunged straight for Subaru, his daggers aimed for the heart. But Subaru didn't even blink.
This was nothing new. He'd seen names disappear from the world's memory, watched allies erased like dust in the wind. He'd clawed through nights that shredded identity and soul. Gluttony had shown him every hell imaginable.
This was just another cycle.
Another rerun in an endless series of nightmares.
Subaru parted his lips. A faint, brittle breath escaped him, and his eyes shimmered with an empty glow—a hollowness reminiscent of skies drained of all color just before a storm. The silence around him felt sacred, almost funereal, as he whispered the incantation:
"Al Vita, times ten."
In that instant, the world seemed to shift on its axis. The very air grew thick with dread, its weight unnatural, pressing like an invisible hand against the earth. The sky dimmed slightly, as if responding to the invocation. A crushing force bore down upon the area, its epicenter centered on Subaru. The pull distorted the space itself, warping it into a funnel of oppressive mana.
Still airborne, Lye was abruptly yanked from the air, slammed to the ground as though flung by the wrath of an unseen god. The crack of his spine snapping echoed through the forest, sharp and resonant. Trees shook from the aftershock. Birds scattered into the overcast sky. Even the soil seemed to flinch, as if wounded by the impact.
Around them, dozens of mabeasts were caught in the magical tremor. Most dropped to their knees, their legs buckling under the pressure. Others collapsed entirely, their grotesque bodies twitching. In mere seconds, the horde had been reduced from a terrifying force to nothing more than scattered, heaving remnants. Once menacing, they now resembled broken statues left to decay.
Subaru turned toward Elsa. His voice was quieter than before, but his tone held the kind of calm that preceded devastation. It was a command, disguised as concern.
"Go. Head to the village. They'll need help. The people may not recognize you, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that they're alive. Keep them that way. I'll follow shortly."
Elsa studied his face for a long moment. Her usual smirk was absent. Something unreadable swam in her expression—uncertainty, perhaps, or something more complicated. Her blood-soaked figure remained motionless for a beat longer, then gave a short, sharp nod. She turned without a word, her form melting into the trees like a phantom. The trail of crimson she left behind glistened in the dim light, a silent testimony to her presence.
When she was gone, Subaru released the spell. The gravitational magic lifted, and the air slowly regained its breath. It was like a room exhaling after being held hostage. Leaves rustled. Birds cautiously returned to their song. The wind shifted, dragging with it the pungent stench of spilled mabeast blood—thick and cloying.
The quiet that followed was deceptive, like the stillness before an avalanche. But within Subaru, peace was nowhere to be found.
His mana reserves were nearly depleted. The flow within him had slowed to a crawl, flickering at the edges of exhaustion. His arms trembled at his sides. His knees buckled slightly with each breath. Only his will—fierce, unyielding—kept him upright. His thoughts were fogged, hazy around the edges, but his anger burned vividly within. That fire wasn't gone. If anything, it was all that remained.
He turned to look at Lye, whose broken body still twitched. The mere fact that Lye remained conscious infuriated Subaru. With great effort, the Sin Archbishop pushed himself up, only to flinch and recoil as Subaru's gaze met his.
Subaru didn't move. He didn't need to. His stance, the daggers in his hands, and the utter certainty in his deadened eyes all communicated one thing: you're already dead. Lye, sensing it, froze. The predator had become the prey, and he knew it. He crouched low, hands twitching nervously, waiting for a miracle that wouldn't come.
But then, something far worse than a miracle arrived.
A rustle in the trees became a thunderous crashing. Without warning, a monstrous serpent burst forth from the underbrush. Its body was massive, scales as black as tar, shimmering with toxic sheen. It moved with unnatural speed, its glowing eyes narrowing in on Subaru. In a blink, it lunged.
"What the—?! Ah, shit!"
Subaru's instincts screamed. His fatigue evaporated. Every fiber of his being surged forward into motion. His hand flew to his dagger, and in one clean, practiced movement, he sliced the serpent clean in half. The creature's body parted, its black blood spraying in high arcs across the ground. The pieces twitched violently before falling still.
[Advanced Dagger Technique - Active]
[Phantom Drift - Active]
The air hadn't finished settling before Subaru's feet lifted from the ground. An unseen force yanked him upward, suspending him mid-air like a marionette on invisible strings. His arms stretched out to his sides against his will. It was as though countless hands gripped him—tight, immovable, unrelenting.
His limbs were frozen, every joint locked by the weight of invisible shackles. He struggled, but nothing responded. The chains weren't physical, but magical, and they coiled around his very soul.
Subaru gritted his teeth and tried to focus. One breath. Another. His eyes narrowed into slits, and a single drop of sweat traced down his temple.
"Ah... of course. It's you."
From the gloom between the trees, two silhouettes stepped into view—Capella and Petelgeuse.
The shadows themselves seemed to recoil from their presence. The forest twisted, turning dark and warped around them, as if rejecting their very existence. Capella's body had regenerated completely—her wounds sealed as if they never existed, her bones repaired, and that horrifying, saccharine smile carved once more across her face. Her skin shimmered with an artificial allure, unnaturally perfect in all the wrong ways.
Petelgeuse was another horror entirely. His hunched frame seemed more crooked than before. His bulging eyes never blinked, fixated on Subaru with maddening focus. His fingers twitched constantly, like they were following the rhythm of a hymn only he could hear.
Both of them exuded malice like a fog. And Subaru, bound and suspended, could only stare back—defiant, but undeniably vulnerable.
Capella spoke first. Her voice was melodic, a honeyed poison that coiled through the air, but beneath its delicate tone lay a twisted malice, an obscene delight in suffering.
"Aaah~? What do we have here? A poor, tiny, pathetic little mouse caught in a trap~! Tsk, tsk... So soon? That's no fun at all! I expected at least a little chase. But hmm~ just look at you! Flailing, trembling, like a baby bird with broken wings! Watching you squirm in that miserable little state? It's so sweet I might just throw up. Really now... you've become disgustingly adorable~! A pitiful little worm dressed in hero's skin."
Her words slithered into Subaru's ears like barbed wire, meant not just to taunt, but to flay away dignity itself.
Petelgeuse suddenly burst into laughter, a frenzied screech that tore through the silence and echoed deep into the ancient woods like a demented hymn.
"KEHEHEHEHE~! DO YOU SEE?! LOOK, LOOK! Invisible Hands... yes, YES! The divine gift granted unto me by our sacred, blessed, eternal Witch~! AHH~! With her grace flooding through me, my enemies are but pitiful insects! Squirming! Squealing! Flailing like worms beneath my fingers! THEY CAN'T ESCAPE! None of them can! Oh, Witch-sama~! Just gazing into your infinite, unfathomable eyes... every heartbeat, every breath, becomes a sacred ritual! I LOVE YOU! I WORSHIP YOU! I SHALL DEVOTE MY SOUL TO YOU FOR ETERNITY! RAHARAHARAHAA!!"
Subaru's eyes twitched. He groaned inwardly and rolled them with the weariness of someone cursed to relive the same nightmare over and over. He muttered dryly, voice dripping with disdain and fatigue: "Fantastic. One lunatic wasn't enough. Now I'm stuck in a party with three. Seriously? At this point, I must've insulted every god in existence. Or maybe the universe just really hates my face."
Capella's mood shifted instantly. Her head snapped toward Lye, and her shriek sliced through the air like shattered glass.
"YOU! Report. NOW! Or I'll rip out your tongue and make you eat it!"
Lye stepped forward, stiff and robotic, as if something invisible was yanking at his spine. His complexion had gone ghostly pale, and his voice trembled with something caught between fear and unnatural reverence.
"The one before you... he claims the title of the Archbishop of Envy. His name is Natsuki Subaru."
That name snapped something in Capella's brain. Her voice climbed to an unnatural pitch, sharp enough to make ears bleed. Even Petelgeuse recoiled, slapping two Invisible Hands against his ears with a grimace.
"OF COURSE I KNOW HIS NAME! DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A FOOL, YOU INSIGNIFICANT VERMIN?! You dare waste my time with the obvious?! You'll pay for this idiocy—with your skin flayed and salted!"
Subaru exhaled sharply and turned his head slowly toward Petelgeuse. He spoke under his breath, quiet but edged like a razor:
"Oi... any chance you could cover my ears too? Just for a minute? I'd like to avoid permanent hearing damage. Or maybe I'll just die a few more times until I build a resistance to your charming symphonies."
Petelgeuse paused. His gaze lingered on Subaru, intense and almost curious. Then his twisted grin widened like a crescent moon.
"Hmm~? Hmm~! HOW DELIGHTFULLY CLEVER! Pandora-sama... yes, yes, she'd want him alive, breathing, unbroken. A useful little hostage, a bargaining chip... But BUT BUT! For me—your screams, oh~ your desperate, soul-shattering howls... they are DIVINE! In that sound lies rapture! When you scream, the world stops. Time freezes. Heaven holds its breath and Hell rejoices! THAT SOUND! It is prayer. It is climax. It is TRUTH! Kekekekekeh... KEKEKEKEHEHAHAHAHAH!!"
Then, without warning, he turned away with a manic twirl, focusing again on Capella and Lye's brewing argument. Meanwhile, the invisible force restraining Subaru clamped down even harder. The Invisible Hands pressed into his shoulders, grinding against bone and tendon. His chest heaved as the air in his lungs thinned, every breath shallow, ragged.
But Subaru didn't flinch. Pain was old news. Familiar. Expected. Instead, he narrowed his gaze and focused all his attention on the cultists' twisted exchange. He needed every word. Every hint.
This moment wouldn't be written by weakness or despair. No. This time, it would be carved in defiance. He wasn't going to lose—not here, not like this. He clenched his jaw and let that fire build behind his tired eyes.
Lye spoke again, and this time there was a feral tremor beneath his voice. His lips were stretched too wide in a grin that didn't reach his eyes. Something in him—some creature—was awakening.
"Regardless... the assassin escaped. Slippery little thing. But from him—this one—I can clearly sense it. The Authority of Pride... it's unmistakable. He said he killed Lucas. Claims it plainly. And when I look at him, feel his presence... something inside me stirs. It's like I'm staring at a mask... or something wearing the skin of a man."
Capella's expression flickered. For a moment, emptiness—blank, cold calculation—washed over her face. Then, a cruel grin stretched across her lips. Her eyes locked onto Subaru, and she began moving toward him—not walking, exactly. It was more like she glided, or slithered, a grotesque parody of elegance.
When their eyes met, she was greeted not by fear, but a hardened stare. Subaru's body was shaking from the pain, but his spirit stood unyielding. It burned in silence.
"Hmm~ so that's how it is... You really do look the part, don't you, my little trash heap? But but! Lucas... A fresh hatchling, still warm from the nest. His death was premature, such a pity. But if you—a stray mutt of a man—truly ended him... Mmm~ that's just delicious! It's like a twisted fairy tale! The little rat who killed the hawk~! How beautifully absurd!"
Capella tilted his head and let out a high-pitched laugh, the sound bouncing through the air like shattered glass. It echoed oddly, distorted and surreal, an unnatural noise that didn't belong in this grim reality. Then, with a sudden spin on his heel, he faced Lye directly, his voice turning sing-songy, playful, disturbingly giddy—like a child lost in a nightmare, playing house with bloodied dolls.
"You can eat his naaaame~! Because all we need is just... ahhh~ the outer shell! Take his sweet little soul and gobble it down, Hehe~! And after that, maybe, just maaaybe I get to play with him a liiittle bit... You know how it goes~ Hehehehe~!"
Lye twitched with excitement, practically vibrating with anticipation. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, like a kid high on too much sugar. His eyes glowed with lunacy. "Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! A proper feast at last! Ripe, resilient, and... oh yes, bursting with untapped potential. I wonder, I wonder... what kind of flavors you'll have, hmm? Kekekekee!"
Subaru's lips curled into a smirk—a bitter, mocking twist of the mouth. His entire body ached with exhaustion, his soul strained to the edge of collapse, yet his sarcasm remained sharp as ever. "I probably taste like trash. Bitter. Poisonous even. A lovely bouquet of agony and stubbornness. Hope your stomach's ready for a banquet of regret."
Then, more softly, his voice dipped into a whisper that came from a place far deeper. A thought escaping without his consent.
"Louis... completely lost her mind."
Without warning, an invisible grip seized Subaru. It was Petelgeuse's doing. The unseen hands snaked around his limbs, dragging him forward with the slow inevitability of a puppet being hauled into its master's grasp. His muscles locked, his breathing hitched, every inch of his body screamed to resist. But his mind—his mind still burned. This wasn't the end. Not yet.
Lye extended a hand. With fingers twitching in delight, he gently touched Subaru's forehead, his voice reverent and greedy all at once. "Natsuki Subaru~ Then allow me to say... BON APPÉT—"
But the rest never came.
Subaru's voice exploded like a thunderclap, a commandment shouted to the gods:
"PRIDE BREAKER!"
A violent shockwave erupted from his core. It wasn't just energy—it was will made manifest, Authority forged in torment. The air cracked with force. The earth groaned and split beneath him. Trees shook, birds scattered in terror, and the weight of it all crashed upon the battlefield like a judgment.
Capella's slit pupils dilated. "What…?!"
The unseen hands holding Subaru disintegrated, screaming into nothing like spirits torn from purgatory. Freed, Subaru didn't pause. He surged forward, empowered by a burst of reckless fury, and drove a brutal kick into Lye's chest. The Archbishop's body twisted in midair, flung backwards like a leaf in a storm.
Petelgeuse howled in response, a scream that clawed its way through reality, echoing with madness.
"MY INVISIBLE HANDS! THE BLESSING OF OUR BELOVED WITCH! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONEEEE?! SLOTHFUL! SLOTHFUL! SLOTHFULLLLLL! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A WRETCHED DOG—A WOLF IN THE FLOCK! A TRAITOR TO THE ORDER! YOU DARE DEFY HER?! YOU'LL PAY! AHHH, YOU'LL PAY THE PRICE—IN SCREAMS, IN THE SNAP OF BONE, IN THE SHATTERING OF YOUR MIND! KEKEKEHEHEHEAHAHAHAHA!!"
From his back, Petelgeuse erupted into a swarm of unseen hands, dozens of shadowy limbs twisting, writhing, reaching for Subaru with insatiable wrath. They tore through the air with lethal intent.
Subaru leapt back, dagger clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. There was no time to think—just act. He summoned the last embers of his mana and poured everything into the blade.
[Overburst – Activated.]
A ring of energy exploded outward. Mana surged from Duskveil in a detonation so violent the skies cracked with thunder. The ground buckled beneath the force. Boulders splintered. Mabeast corpses were flung like rag dolls. Even ancient trees—gargantuan trunks that had stood for centuries—were uprooted and hurled aside.
Within this chaos, Subaru ran.
He didn't run away. He ran forward.
Toward the forest's heart, toward the swirling madness, toward whatever end awaited him. Each step was agony. His legs felt like they were made of iron, his lungs scorched with every breath. But he didn't stop.
Not until something hit him.
A black flash.
Then pain. Capella. Her massive tail slammed into him like a meteor. Subaru flew through the air, his body twisting violently before he crashed spine-first into a tree with a sickening crunch.
"AGH—!"
Dust exploded from the point of impact. The world spun. Every nerve in his body shrieked in protest.
Capella stepped through the smoke.
A towering beast of scaled malice. Her monstrous dragon form shimmered with oily darkness. Her eyes—those damned, glittering things—gleamed with predatory joy. She was beautiful in the way a decaying rose was beautiful—elegant, deadly, unnatural.
"Ah ah ah~! Naughty little bunny thought he could escape? Tsk tsk. You know better than that, don't you~?"
She stomped forward. Each step cracked the earth. Her shadow swallowed Subaru whole.
"But I have to admit… That was quite the performance. Bravo! Theatrics, tension, defiance. Truly, you make such a delicious lead actor in this tragedy."
Her claw slammed into the ground beside him, sending tremors through his bones.
"And now… if we're ready for the final act…" she purred, her voice sweet venom. "Let's begin~"
Subaru dropped to his knees. Blood spilled from his lips. His chest rose and fell in shallow gasps. Vision doubled. Pain radiated from every nerve like fire beneath the skin.
"Cough… cough… I'm so… so tired of being thrown around," he muttered. "Every blow… just makes it worse… But I'm still here. Still breathing… You haven't ended me yet."
From within the swirling cloud of dust, they reappeared—those unnatural, formless hands composed of shadow and spite. With frightening speed, they lashed out, piercing the haze and grabbing hold of Subaru once again. This time, their grip wasn't merely restrictive—it was crushing. The fingers of darkness seemed to dig into his very bones, bending them inward. Pressure coiled around his spine like a vice, and his lungs seized as if a mountain had settled on his chest, squeezing out every breath.
He gasped, a pathetic sound that barely escaped. His ribs groaned, then screamed. A sickening series of pops echoed from within him as the unrelenting force ground his bones together. The pain didn't just consume him—it folded around his entire existence.
Still, through clenched teeth and the haze of agony, Subaru tried to speak. "Pride... Br—"
But he never got to finish. The hands lifted him high above the earth like a marionette, then drove him down with brutal force. He smashed into the dirt with a thunderous crash that sent cracks through the ground, only to be ripped free and flung into the trees. Each collision was a symphony of violence: bones snapping like twigs, flesh splitting, blood splattering across bark. His back folded over a tree trunk. His arm bent the wrong way on impact. His head cracked against the earth.
To Subaru, time twisted and stretched. Each moment of pain was eternal. The world spun and blurred. Color drained from the trees. Light faded from the sky. All he could see were streaks of motion and bursts of crimson against an increasingly gray world.
And then—
A voice. Shrieking. Drenched in madness.
"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU DEAD! HOW DARE YOU! NO ONE—NO ONE—MUST WITNESS MY SHADOW HANDS BUT ME! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!"
Petelgeuse's voice clawed at the sky, tearing it open with the rage of a beast completely unhinged. Each word carried a blow. Each syllable summoned another crushing impact. The invisible limbs slammed Subaru again and again, like a relentless executioner. His limbs twisted unnaturally. His blood sprayed in arcs. The earth beneath him grew redder with each second.
He couldn't scream anymore. There wasn't enough air. There wasn't enough strength. All that remained were ragged breaths and the rattle of a body pushed past its limit. Blood filled his mouth. He choked. He swallowed it. He drowned in it. His face was driven into the mud, eyes fluttering, eyelids twitching in stubborn resistance.
Finally, Petelgeuse stopped. His breath came in erratic gasps, a madman in the afterglow of torment. The shadow hands retracted, dissolving into the void. His expression warped into a grotesque parody of satisfaction—twisted, uneven, and triumphant.
Subaru's body lay shattered amidst the debris of nature. Broken trees encircled him like fallen sentries. His limbs were splayed at odd angles. One shoulder was dislocated; blood poured from his side in rhythmic pulses. The soil hungrily drank it up, darkening into a pit of crimson beneath him.
Lye took a slow, casual step forward. Hands tucked into his pockets. His eyes, utterly emotionless, passed over Subaru's ruined form as if inspecting damaged merchandise.
"Oi... think you might've gone a bit far," he muttered. His tone betrayed neither concern nor interest.
Capella stood nearby, licking her lips with an almost theatrical slowness. Her eyes were gleaming—like jewels carved from madness.
"Reviving him is the easy part," she said, her voice a sing-song lullaby laced with venom. "But this... this breaking... it's where the art lives. Let him crawl. Let him rot. Let him scream. When he's ready, I'll put him back together better. Worse. More... beautiful."
Inside Subaru's mind, there was only static. A cacophony of pain and memory blurred into white noise. Distant screams echoed—Lucas's voice maybe, or his own. He couldn't tell. The sound of snapping bones looped endlessly in his ears, like some divine punishment. The dripping of blood became a ticking clock.
He wanted to run.
He wanted to vanish.
But he had nowhere to go.
Then—a whisper. Not from outside, but within. A thought, so simple it pierced the storm like a knife:
I don't want to die.
The thought repeated, louder this time. More urgent. More real.
I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I DON'T WANT TO DIE.
It grew louder. Sharper. Stronger. As if a dam had cracked and something old, something terrible, was finally clawing its way free.
A burning sensation erupted in his chest. His heart convulsed violently. Veins flared like lightning beneath his skin. His eyes snapped wide—pupils blown, veins bleeding red into the whites. He tried to cry out, but all that came was a gout of thick, boiling blood. His entire vision darkened.
And then—
Fire.
The runes etched into his chest ignited. They surged to life in a burst of radiant crimson, pulsing in sync with his labored heart. For one impossible moment, they glowed like divine script—heavy with purpose, burning with fury. The world seemed to hold its breath.
And then—
DING!!
[Authority of Pride: Fractured Limit - Active]
The broken boy began to rise.
His body floated, limbs limp like a puppet's, until his feet lifted gently from the ground. His eyes opened, but they saw nothing. Not in the way the living did. These eyes burned with a different kind of clarity. They were vessels for something deeper—a force that didn't think, didn't question. Only acted.
His torso straightened with eerie calm. Steam hissed from his wounds as blood evaporated. Skin stitched itself together before the eyes of his enemies. Bones mended. Flesh smoothed. Muscle reknit. His internal organs realigned like gears in a divine machine. He was being remade.
Scarlet energy flared around him, wrapping him in an infernal halo. The ground beneath him cracked, scorched by the heat of his awakening. That light wasn't just power—it was feeling made manifest: rage, grief, desperation, the primal need to survive. The energy danced and pulsed like a heartbeat made visible.
Above his head, a halo formed—runes carved from light orbiting in slow, solemn rotation. It looked like a crown, like judgment. Holy. Terrifying.
His mind was still submerged, swimming through dark waters. Sounds echoed like distant thunder. Shapes bent and wavered before him. But there was no confusion. No doubt.
Only one truth remained, etched into his very soul.
I must destroy them.
Capella narrowed her eyes at him, disbelief etched clearly across her face.
"You still... have the strength to stand?"
Subaru gave no reply. He didn't speak, didn't flinch—his eyes were all the answer she needed. Deep within them, beyond the exhaustion and pain, there was fire. A smoldering defiance that refused to be extinguished.
In his palm, Duskveil shimmered into existence. The blade quivered—not out of fear, but from the sheer density of the mana pouring into it. It pulsed like a thunderclap restrained by steel, a promise of devastation held barely in check. Subaru's mana reserves were overflowing, power surging to the brink of rupture.
He raised Duskveil for the briefest of moments—then brought it down in a clean arc. The air split like silk under a scalpel.
[Mana Slash / Overbust – Combined Assault]
Capella's massive dragon form was instantly carved into thousands of fragments. Each shard detonated in succession, creating a chain reaction of blazing explosions. The sky lit up in searing crimson, shockwaves expanding outward with earth-shattering force. Sonic booms rippled through the trees, flattening ancient trunks and leaving gaping scars in the soil. Birds scattered. The sky roared. It was as if the very world had cried out.
But Capella had not been caught unprepared. Just before the attack struck, she had transformed a portion of her body into rats and scattered them throughout the forest canopy. Though her primary body was obliterated, a few of the dispersed fragments still twitched with stubborn, grotesque life.
Subaru could have pursued them. He had the strength. He had the means. But his focus was elsewhere. Over ninety-five percent of the swarm had been annihilated. The rest could wait. Just a heartbeat longer.
Meanwhile, Lye had vanished into the woods, fleeing for his life. The coward had already chosen survival over devotion—abandoning the battlefield like a ghost.
As the dust began to clear, a voice sliced through the eerie stillness like a jagged blade:
"SLOTHFUL!!"
Petelgeuse's scream rang out with renewed madness, laced with grief, fury, and euphoria.
Invisible Hands erupted into view once more—but this time, there were more. Dozens. No—hundreds. They tore through the air, clawing toward Subaru with breakneck speed. Each one curved like a spearhead, sharpened by wrath.
But something had changed.
[Advanced Dagger Technique – Active]
[Phantom Drift – Active]
[Fade – Active]
[Mana Blade – Active]
[Shadow Blades – Active]
[Half-Heat Half-Cold – Active]
Subaru vanished. Like a mirage on the brink of collapse, his figure blurred, warped, and bent reality around him. One moment he was there, the next he was a whisper on the wind. Movement beyond human perception. Before the Invisible Hands could even reach him, Subaru moved—and they were destroyed. Cut. Severed. Erased.
A fresh explosion thundered through the battlefield—but this one didn't come with fire. It came with something deeper. A spiritual tremor, like a bell rung in the soul. His blades, charged with mana and shadow, had sliced through what was unseen. The invisible had been rendered visible—then obliterated.
The hands dissolved. What remained was an eerie silence, thick and choking, laced with dust, ash, and tension. Subaru stood still, his breath heavy. But the air he inhaled—it no longer belonged to who he once was. It was the breath of someone reborn in war.
Without hesitation, he dove back into the thick cloud of ash. His body still cloaked in crimson mana, blazing like wildfire. With that force, he delivered a savage, monstrous kick straight into Petelgeuse's chest. The madman's eyes bulged. Bones cracked like dry twigs. His body flung backward like a ragdoll, slamming into trees, snapping them in two, vanishing into the underbrush.
The silence that followed was unnatural. Even the birds had fallen quiet. No wind. No rustling leaves. Just a waiting tension.
But the battle was far from over.
And now... the third wave began.
Suddenly, the ground trembled beneath Subaru's feet. Then—howls. Dozens, then hundreds of mabeasts burst through the tree line. Fangs bared. Claws raised. Spike-like jaws snapping. All of them, eyes glowing with bloodlust, charging toward a single target.
The forest rang with their primal roars. Echoes split the air like thunderclaps, shattering the silence with their fury. The world turned feral in a blink.
Subaru narrowed his eyes, gripping Duskveil tightly. Every muscle in his body tensed like coiled wire. His heart slammed against his ribs like a war drum. Breath hitched in his throat. But fear—fear had no place here.
The moment he struck the first creature down, the swarm was upon him.
They came from all sides. Teeth snapped at his legs. Claws slashed at his shoulders. One lunged for his throat—but Duskveil sang. A single arc of light, and the beast's head flew. Blood sprayed in a red arc.
But he didn't falter. He couldn't. The ghosts of every death he'd suffered, every mistake, every failure—they all circled in his mind like vultures. And this time, they gave him strength. Not rage. Not vengeance. Clarity.
Every motion became a strike. Every dodge, a dance. Every step, a calculated execution. He moved like a reaper through wheat, each swing a death sentence. Crimson and obsidian trails spiraled around him, carving the air like cursed ribbons.
Blood sprayed. Fur scattered. Bones cracked like thunder. Time itself felt like it stuttered, skipping between moments as Subaru carved through the tide.
And through it all, Subaru felt nothing.
No rage. No fear. No joy.
Only survival.
He was no longer a man—he was a construct. A mechanism of war, forged in fire and tempered by death. A blade guided by the memory of loss.
Eventually, he exhaled deeply. The storm within him eased—slightly. Duskveil shimmered and vanished, dismissed with a silent thought.
He rose into the air, mana surging and coalescing around him. And as he hovered there, above the field of blood and silence, power gathering in his core, even the sky itself seemed to pale in comparison.
This was no longer just a battle.
It was judgment.
And Subaru was its executioner.
He raised his hand, trembling slightly, yet with unwavering resolve. At his fingertips, a pulse of energy began to gather, slow at first, like frost creeping across glass. A chill rippled outward, sweeping through the air in waves, causing the trees to groan and the earth beneath him to stiffen. A cold wind stirred the battlefield—a wind that carried no sound, only the stillness of encroaching death. Subaru's breath caught in his throat as his eyes, half-lidded and glazed with exhaustion, focused on nothing and everything all at once. His lips parted and released a whisper carried by the cold:
"Frost Dominion."
In that instant, time ceased to flow.
The very air froze mid-motion. Soil and stone, leaf and limb—all were turned to sculpture by the spell's wrath. A wash of pure, blinding white swept across the battlefield like the hand of a vengeful god. Mabeasts charging at full speed didn't even have time to react. Their roars were silenced before they could form, their muscles stiffened into rigor, their bodies encased in glacial crystal. And in their eyes, locked in final terror, Subaru's faint silhouette reflected—cold, distant, and final—before each creature disintegrated into frost and silence.
Suspended within the void of that frozen second, Subaru began to descend. Gravity reclaimed him gently, as if afraid to disturb the stillness. His knees struck the icy earth without resistance. A long, ragged breath slipped from his lips, turning instantly to vapor. His body convulsed, overcome by the sudden drain. His fingers clawed at the snow-dusted dirt, unable to hold his weight.
[Fractured Limit - Deactivated]
His body crumpled forward, lifeless. Strength abandoned him in a wave. The Authority that had sustained him moments before now unraveled, and with it came the full weight of his injuries. Wounds long held at bay surged forward in brutal clarity. And yet—something was different. His bones held. There was no blood leaking from ruptured organs. But his skin, stretched thin and pale, bore the marks of war: deep gashes, violet bruises, and red trails of dried blood. He tried to lift his hand, but even that proved impossible. Fingers, trembling, curled back uselessly.
"Hah... hah... Flugel... Did I do it? Did I stop them from dying...?"
A ripple of shadow shimmered before him. From its center, Flugel emerged, as if peeling himself from a fold in space. His masked face, pale against the dark, tilted forward, eyes scanning Subaru's broken form. He remained silent for a moment longer than comfort allowed.
"Who can say? If you're really that curious, you'll have to get up and check yourself. But... I doubt you'll be standing anytime soon. Ah, and look—it begins. Three... two..."
Subaru's brows tightened. "What do you—"
Blood burst from his mouth and nostrils. Agony tore through his chest. His veins felt as if they'd combusted under pressure. Crimson spilled from his torso in violent torrents, pooling at his knees. He gasped, his vision distorting as reality slipped sideways.
"Wh-what's happening...? I can't... stop it..."
Flugel kneeled beside him, his voice emotionless, the cadence of a dispassionate surgeon.
"You pushed the Pride Breaker far past its limit. The Authority of Pride was already a strain on your fractured vessel. Then you emptied your mana reserves—twice. Took a full-body beating from a forest's worth of blunt trauma. You're lucky you're even conscious. Want me to list the rest?"
Subaru groaned, spitting more blood. "No... that's enough. Then what now?"
Flugel's form began to dissolve into the growing darkness. Shadows clung to him like a second skin.
"That depends. Maybe you die. Maybe not. Luck's fickle, Subaru."
Subaru, eyes barely focusing, tilted his head skyward. The stars above shimmered faintly in the quiet night, their cold light distant and indifferent. Tears welled in his eyes, slipping down bruised cheeks. His breath was shallow, the words barely escaping him:
"I... I really don't want to die. Again.."
Then, something shifted.
Among the motionless stars, one broke free. It streaked across the sky like a whisper of light, descending gently. It wasn't fire, but something warmer. A golden sphere of energy, no larger than a palm, hovered beside him. It pulsed softly, emitting warmth that pushed back the cold curling inside his chest. The pain lessened—not gone, but numbed by something ancient and benevolent.
The spirit spoke. Its voice was soft—like wind through a grove, like a lullaby hummed by the world itself:
"I can help you. If you wish to live... make a pact with me. I will save you."
Subaru's eyes widened. He couldn't move. Could barely think. But that voice—it was familiar. Not in memory, but in resonance. Like an echo across lives. His heart thumped, a spark igniting within its ragged rhythm.
This was a Yang spirit.
And yet, Subaru's soul was steeped in Yin, drowned in it by suffering, death, and repetition. By all laws, this entity should've recoiled. But it didn't. It came closer.
Because this spirit was different. It carried warmth, yes, but also strength—unyielding, unshakable. It was fire and steel. Mercy tempered with fury. And as it hovered beside him, Subaru felt, perhaps for the first time in what felt like countless lives... that he wasn't alone.