Natsuki Subaru stared up at the man before him, his voice cracking with frustration and fear as he demanded, "Who exactly are you, and why do you want to kill me!"
His heart still raced. All he wanted to understand in that moment was who this person was, why someone so powerful was so fixated on him, and why his Return by Death ability had failed to affect this opponent.
Lucien watched him calmly, his amethyst eyes unblinking, the pale violet shade glowing faintly with irritation. "To be honest, I'm getting a bit impatient," Lucien said deliberately, his voice steady. "After killing someone twenty‑five times and still watching them live, it becomes quite annoying."
He paused, assessing Subaru's expression.
"I wonder how many times you can return, whether you are truly immortal."
As Lucien spoke, Emilia, Roswaal, and the others slowly emerged from Roswaal's Mansion. Subaru's eyes flicked toward them in confusion and anguish.
"Just for that reason?" Subaru's voice trembled, venom rising in his tone.
Lucien did not answer. A subtle tension stirred within him, like a war drum beating in the depths of his chest.
Since Subaru had spoken of death and return, Subaru inhaled deeply, gathering his pain and desperation, and declared, "I will Return by Death."
The world seemed to freeze.
The air went still.
"Thump thump…"
One by one, Emilia, Puck, Betty, Ram, and Rem collapsed to the ground, their breaths gone and their eyes drained of all life and color.
Only Lucien and Roswaal remained standing. Both looked at Subaru—but more precisely, at a mistlike figure that clung to his back, a wraith‑like presence woven of shadows and white light.
Its face was featureless, hidden beneath darkness. A gown of shifting shadow hung from its form, and its hands were unnaturally white, like bone polished by moonlight.
Subaru's heart had stopped. It felt as though an unseen hand gripped his soul, crushing and unforgiving. He knelt in the dirt, his eyes wide with fury and agony, blood trickling from his mouth, the life fading from his gaze.
Then the shadowy figure spoke, its voice soft and serene, like a breeze dancing through spring blossoms.
"I love you," it murmured, voice gentle as sunlight on water, "you gave me light. You held my hand in the darkness and showed me the outside world. You stayed with me through my lonely nights, through every timid, trembling moment."
It spoke with a calm certainty, voice laced with warmth that felt misplaced on a form of shadow.
"When I was alone, you told me I was not alone," the figure continued, its words floating in the still air. "I took so much from you, and I loved you for it, because you gave me everything. Please take care of yourself. I have always waited for your arrival."
The shadow pressed its face closer to Subaru's, whispering as if the world beyond them did not exist.
Then it turned its head, and locked eyes with Roswaal.
Roswaal's expression twisted in horror.
In the next heartbeat, his body crumpled silently to the ground, his breath unresponsive, life extinguished without a sound.
With Roswaal's fall, the shadow turned its gaze toward Lucien.
A chill shot down Lucien's spine, as though eternal night had crept into his bones. It felt as if his very soul had been plucked from his body and thrown into an infinite void. A presence so powerful and absolute stared at him, and for the first time in a long while, Lucien understood fear.
Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and the weight in his chest squeezed until his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. His body refused to obey his mind.
He could not move.
This was no mere physical assault. This was something deeper. Something that attacked the essence of being.
Lucien had faced terrible foes before, but this was different. This attack was not against flesh and bone. It targeted the soul itself. And Lucien lacked any ability or defense that could protect against such an assault.
He felt utterly finished.
Find a way, he told his mind, struggle, think of something—
The shadow spoke again, its voice warm, almost tender.
"No matter whether you are the Jealous Witch or Satella, I deeply love you, and I have always waited for you," it whispered like a lover's promise. "I have wandered world after world until I reached this one, where you exist. I have killed him twenty‑five times just to find you."
It continued, voice unwavering and soft, "Tell me where you are sealed, so I may save you. Do not speak of death again, for I will definitely save you. Your existence is my purpose."
A flicker of color returned to the shadow's voice, a warmth that defied the horror of the scene.
"You are not alone," it said, "just as you loved him, I love you."
Lucien's vision swam. The shadow's words washed over him, weighted with overwhelming emotion that gripped every corner of his being.
Then, without warning, Lucien seized the moment offered by the figure's breathless pause.
A surge of force burst from his spirit in an explosion of golden lightning and swirling blue energy. The impact was immense, blasting upward in a beam of concentrated force that shook the earth.
The shadow screamed, silenced by the overwhelming power of Lucien's spirit.
Lucien became a streak of golden lightning, moving faster than thought itself, disappearing into the sky with resolute intent.
A tremendous eruption followed, a mushroom cloud rising where battle had just raged, tearing the sky with raw energy.
---
Lucien shot awake on the simple bed in the pub room, staring up at the familiar ceiling with clenched teeth and grim resolve.
He had awakened again.
Return by Death had triggered once more.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood by the window, lighting a cigar. The ember glowed as he drew in a slow breath, his expression tight with frustration.
He did not need to think twice about the identity of that shadow.
It was the Jealous Witch. Satella.
The Jealous Witch, who carried two souls, one wrapped in devotion to Natsuki Subaru, the other wrapped in bitter longing.
Lucien had learned these truths from the countless threads and spoiler notes he had pieced together since entering this world. He never expected them to prove real—but reality now stood before him.
And she was terrifying.
Her power had infiltrated the soul itself. Lucien had no defenses for that, no means to protect himself.
This was his weakness.
And worse, the Jealous Witch could still transport Subaru between worlds. The notion that she was sealed now seemed like a lie. If she could still reach this world, her power was not just present, it was active.
Lucien closed his eyes and drew a long breath, a cloud of smoke drifting from his nostrils.
This world was truly dreadful.
These Sons of Destiny were shameless, mooching off others, despicable in their selfish pursuits. Lucien found himself irritated, yet fascinated by how easily they relied on women for power and survival. If it were possible, Lucien admitted to himself with a reluctant smirk, he might even have considered such a path once.
But strategy was necessary.
He exhaled smoke rings and weighed his next steps.
First, Lucien needed to cut off Subaru's ability to return by death. Without that crutch, maybe chance would favor Lucien's own ambitions. He pondered ways to estrange Subaru from Emilia and the others so that Subaru might fall into despair or darkness.
Lucien shook his head in distaste at his own thoughts. He never imagined he would resort to such methods.
Yet, here he was, contemplating them.
He finished his cigar and let out one last smoke ring, his expression settling into a colder resolve.
Lucien wasn't interested in turning Subaru into a ghost. That offered him nothing.
Lucien wanted something else entirely: advantage. Presence. Power.
After all, Transmigrators and Reincarnators, and especially Sons of Destiny, offered immense benefit to those who understood how to use them.
If he came to this world only to gain paltry rewards from minor characters, then what was the point? That was not worthy of his efforts.
No, it was time for Lucien to act, not just survive, but shape his role here with purpose.
Time passed without his realizing it.
Five days slipped by.
During this time, Lucien refrained from intervening. At first Subaru fell into despair, but as the days wore on with nothing remarkable happening, that despair slowly gave way to hope.
Four days earlier, Rem had gone to the village and returned uneventfully before sunset, confirming peace.
It was as if those twenty‑six deaths were only a dream.
Early the next morning, Subaru stood alert, watching Emilia and Ram prepare to leave. His face tightened with concern.
Though the five days had been calm, Subaru could not ignore an underlying discomfort. Something between him and both Ram and Rem felt colder, distant even. Roswaal and Betty also looked at him strangely.
Unbeknownst to Subaru, a dense black mist clung to him, the lingering scent of the Witch herself.
"Subaru, aren't you resting?" Emilia asked gently, her voice warm yet tinged with worry. His mental state had been fragile, and she truly cared for his recovery.
Ram stood nearby, her expression frostier than usual, as if Subaru owed her an immense debt.
"I'm fine," Subaru replied with forced brightness, though dark circles marked his eyes, his face drained with fatigue.
"You look exhausted. Please return to your room and rest," Emilia insisted kindly. "Ram and I are heading into town to take care of some matters, and we will be back before dark. You don't need to worry."
She reached out and gently nudged him forward, as though soothing a child.
"I'll go with you," Subaru blurted out, worry tightening his voice.
"No, that's alright," Emilia shook her head, concern evident. "You need rest."
"But—"
"Just take care, okay? Don't make me worry." Emilia blinked earnestly and smiled before turning with Ram to leave through the mansion doorway.
Subaru watched helplessly as the two figures disappeared from sight.
_____
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