Chapter 135: I Couldn't Do It
What does it feel like to be at the center of an explosion?
The fire, and the fragments blasted outward by the explosion, would instantly rob a person of their consciousness—and their life. Most wouldn't even have time to feel pain; death would take them in an instant.
But for Natsuki Subaru, it was a different story.
His body had been enhanced by the system. Even while activating "bullet time," Subaru could clearly feel the sensation of shards piercing into his back.
The pain of the explosion ripping at his eardrums, the agony of every injury—he could feel it all with terrible clarity during bullet time.
The shockwave rattled his internal organs. When he was sent flying, rolling across the ground, the wooden fragments embedded in his back were driven even deeper.
Fortunately, the five points he had invested into defense weren't for nothing. His above-average durability saved his life in that explosion.
Coughing up blood, Subaru struggled to crawl up from the ground. He looked over at Felix, who had temporarily lost consciousness. Felix didn't seem to be seriously injured—most of the blood on him belonged to Subaru himself.
What does it feel like to be at the center of an explosion?
The fire, and the debris propelled by the blast, instantly snatch away a person's mind and life. Most don't even feel pain before it's over.
But that wasn't what Subaru experienced.
Thanks to the enhancements from the system, and with bullet time active, Subaru could distinctly feel each wound as it happened: the fragments embedding into his back, the shockwave battering his insides, the roll across the dirt that drove the splinters deeper.
His consciousness hazy, Subaru shifted his gaze around him.
Witch Cult fireballs had set nearby buildings ablaze. He saw the cultists emerging from all directions, launching their assault on the villagers and soldiers alike.
He couldn't hear anything. But in his mind, he heard screams—cries from the villagers. Not from now—these were echoes of screams he had already heard once before.
Gritting his teeth, Subaru forced himself to stand.
He drew the longsword from his waist.
Enduring the pain wracking his body, he gripped the sword tightly and dove into battle.
With his broken body, Subaru rushed through the crowds, saving villagers from Witch Cult attacks. In this eerily silent world, he felt as if he were completely alone.
Again and again, he rescued others. His sword strikes became sharper, more merciless.
If, back then, he hadn't been able to see the Witch Cultists as anything other than humans—now, no matter how human they appeared, he didn't see them as people at all.
Subaru hated them.
Even if he couldn't hear the cries of the villagers around him, he felt like he could.
He imagined their angry voices, cursing him for betraying their trust—heard their sobbing pleas for their loved ones to be saved.
"Witch Cult!!!"
Subaru's hatred for them had caused him to break his promises twice.
His words—his vows—were now laughable. A joke.
"Excuse me... are you calling for me?"
Subaru stopped moving.
Not because he heard the voice, but because he saw him.
Petelgeuse Romanee-Conti, the self-proclaimed Sin Archbishop of Sloth, entered his vision.
There was no one around him.
Behind Petelgeuse, the village was ablaze.
Corpses littered the ground.
He looked just like Subaru remembered: deranged, chilling.
His mouth moved, but Subaru could hear none of it.
Even if he could, he had no intention of talking.
"How diligent! Ah! A bloodied, wounded young man still stands firm, swinging his sword with such diligence to strike down the undiligent apostles and protect the villagers! Ahhh—my brain trembles!!"
"Oh? Can you no longer hear me?"
Petelgeuse smiled as Subaru charged straight at him.
He didn't dodge. Instead, he bit his own fingers as Subaru approached.
"Hmm, those eyes... Beneath your hatred, I see the will to die. You are not diligent. You are slothful."
Subaru didn't understand a word.
His mind was consumed by a single thought: Kill him.
No hesitation.
"Overdrive Burst!"
The moment Subaru shouted it, his speed surged.
Before Petelgeuse's eyes could even narrow in surprise, Subaru's sword had already pierced straight through his chest.
"This... is my sloth... Ah, this scent... from the Witch... what... are... you..."
Subaru yanked the blade free from the now-silent Petelgeuse and, without a word, turned and rushed toward the other Witch Cultists.
He was short on time.
He had to move.
He had to save more people.
That was the only way—the only way he could allow himself to die.
"Is that what you're thinking? Sloth, sloth! How slothful you are!"
Subaru stood frozen in place, lowering his head to look at the gaping hole in his own chest.
In his field of vision, he saw the thing that had pierced him.
It looked like a hand.
An invisible hand, now stained with his blood—making it visible.
His strength drained rapidly, pouring from the hole in his body. His hand could no longer grip his sword.
His consciousness teetered on the edge of darkness—but then snapped back to clarity.
Though his body was nearly powerless, he hadn't died immediately.
He felt something grab his hair and twist his body around.
He saw a woman slowly approaching him, wearing the same deranged expression as Petelgeuse.
"Hmm? Ohhh!!! Diligent! Despite a mortal wound, you're still alive! How diligent! But! So strange. You're strange. Neither diligent nor slothful."
"You're easy to understand. Fighting diligently because those you wanted to protect were killed. Keeping yourself alive out of guilt. But now, at the same time, you slothfully seek death."
The woman bit her own fingers, her eyes narrowing as she stared into Subaru's.
"Oh! I forgot—you can't hear me anymore! Ah, how slothful of me! I can't even remember such a simple thing!!"
She clutched her head in a frenzy.
Then she heard something.
Subaru's voice.
She froze. Leaned closer. Brought her ear to Subaru's lips.
And heard what he said.
"Full... Power... Strike..."
"Huh? You—"
With the last of his strength, Subaru moved his head.
And saw the headless corpse in front of him collapse.
Blood spilled from his mouth. His breathing grew faint.
Though he couldn't hear, he felt something: his own voice, speaking back to him, repeating the words he had said when promising to protect the villagers.
"Unforgivable!!! How many times will you kill my diligent fingers?! My diligence will never lose to the likes of you! Die in sloth!!"
"Subaru!!!"
.
.
.
Julius swung his sword, not sparing the corpse a glance.
He rushed to Subaru's side, flipped him over—and that's when he saw it.
The gaping hole in Subaru's chest.
Through it, he could see white bone, and the faint, weak beat of a heart.
Subaru's world turned dark.
A single tear slipped down from his eye.
Julius felt his collar being grabbed.
"Julius... I couldn't do it... Please, please... save them... tell them I'm sorry... I couldn't protect them... again..."
Julius grasped the cold, weakening hand.
He looked into Subaru's eyes, already losing their light, as a tear slowly rolled down his cheek.
"I promise you, Subaru. I still wanted to be your friend... Rest easy, my friend. I swear on my name—Julius—that I will help you."
Julius gently laid Subaru's hand on the ground.
Then stood, turned toward the Witch Cult not far away—
—and charged forward, sword clenched tightly.
A barrage of freezing ice spears blanketed the area where the Witch Cultists had gathered.
Hovering in the air, Puck stared coldly at the scene below.
He looked toward Emilia, Ram, and the others rushing toward Subaru's body.
His tone became icy.
"Die, trash."