Helpless, desperate, agonizing, terrified, blurred, ruined, mad. Exhausted, shaken, twisted, corrupted, contorted, decomposed, anguished; a heart broken into a thousand pieces. All his emotions converged toward a single rallying point hatred. Self-hatred for his filthy weakness, hatred against the assassins who had dared to profane and destroy Beatrice, hatred against his allies who saw him only as an engine for miracles, hatred against this world that crushed him in a loop, and hatred against the god of this universe, that sadistic author who had written his destiny so poorly.
"You are my fiancé, for you are the only one whose pride is vast enough to contain my greed. Suffer, break, crawl in your own blood... as long as your eyes seek my answers, you belong to me."
These words, spoken by the Witch with a poisonous sweetness, were the last he heard before reality tore apart. He had no allies. Even the one who claimed to love him saw in him only a fascinating manuscript to be flipped through while waiting for it to burn.
Trizz was now walking through the snow. The immaculate white of the ground contrasted violently with his cultist attire, dark and orange like a sin. His eyes, usually an electric crimson, were veiled by a vacant stare, an abyss of jet. A few hours earlier, in the chaos of the manor, he had sworn to kill. Why did misfortune persist? Why did these new variables have to be elites?
Leith.
Status: High-ranking assassin. Skills: Inhuman brute strength, advanced earth mage.
Motivation: Jealousy, pure hatred. Works for Capella. Particularity: Ultra-fast regeneration... or resurrection? A mystery to dissect.
Lyra.
Status: Mage-assassin.
Skills: Water and wind magic. Secret move: Al Huma.
Motivation: Neutral, simple contractual execution for Capella.
The bare trees dropped tears of frost onto the black hair of the young man, who remained stony-faced. He was back in the Sanctuary. Roswaal had already cast his spell; the sky was vomiting its deadly whiteness. The Great Rabbit was lurking, but what troubled Trizz was Subaru's silence. The idiot hadn't been devoured by the beasts yet, or else the loop had already drifted beyond recovery.
His own cries of anger, screamed in the agony of the manor, still echoed like an endless refrain inside his skull. "Leith, Lyra, Elsa, Meili... I will turn their existence into a hell so deep that even death will seem like an inaccessible luxury."
That was his only will. The idea of neutralizing or recruiting Meili had evaporated. It mattered little if killing her caused an irreversible divergence or the wrath of Capella. His hatred was at its peak. He was no longer there to play the benevolent strategist. He was there for extermination.
He pressed on, ignoring the bloodstains marring the snow. With every step, the amount of red increased, saturating the landscape. The freezing wind battered his cultist robe, but Trizz no longer felt the cold. He knew this place too well. This was where Subaru was supposed to die in the original work, but here, the staging was the work of a different butcher.
Lacerated children, their clothes reduced to soaked rags. Men with their throats slit, daggers driven into their eye sockets like sharp spectacles. Women flayed alive, their bellies sliced open and filled with steel, evoking a pregnancy of unbearable violence. Old men beaten to death, their flesh reduced to offal by expert hands.
Rivers of blood flowed beneath Trizz's boots; entrails hung from the lintels of every house, serving as macabre garlands. On every merchant's stall, platters of eyes, ears, and noses promised a cannibalistic feast. Severed legs, hands, and torsos cushioned his every step, transforming the once-paved streets into a carpet of meat. In this world of violence, his eyes could no longer distinguish anything but flesh and hemoglobin.
Yet, Trizz did not care. These villagers were nothing more than dead pixels. He had already seen hundreds of corpses burned alive, bodies amputated by his own explosions, torn limbs struggling for one more second of life. The Cult's massacre had vaccinated him against horror.
He analyzed the corpses like simple lines of data, searching for the signature of the crime. Those red and black daggers embedded in the skulls were familiar. He recognized them all too well. They were the same ones he had used to finish off Petelgeuse.
Trizz's alabaster face froze, his features drawn by a chilling realization. The assassins hadn't just targeted the Manor for a surgical strike. No, they had deployed the heavy artillery. They had unleashed Capella's rabid dogs, the fanatical army of Lust, directly upon the Sanctuary.
He approached a modest wooden dwelling whose battered door released a pestilential stench of iron and entrails. Trizz kicked the door open. The sight that met him was beyond comprehension. It was a vision that transcended simple violence to touch upon the sublime of abomination. Trizz knew that Re:Zero was renowned for the brutality of Subaru's deaths, but what stood there... this wasn't Re:Zero. This was something far filthier, far more depraved. For a second, he doubted the very reality of the universe into which he had been reincarnated. Was this a divine punishment?
Inside, the air was saturated with a red humidity. As a welcome, eight pairs of eyes, bulbous and glassy, had been nailed to the beams like grotesque festive decorations.
In the center of the room, a "work of art" made of flesh and blood defied reason. Four adult bodies, limbs broken and twisted at impossible angles, formed a profane circle around a fifth, much smaller one. They had all been flayed alive, their glowing musculature exposed to the open air, their empty sockets staring eternally at the center of the room. They all pointed, like silent accusers, toward the central corpse.
It was a girl. Barely ten years old. She was the "main course" of this infernal banquet.
Trizz felt bile burn his throat. In the child's empty sockets, her own teeth had been driven in one by one, forming a macabre smile where her eyes should have been. Her mouth, forced wide open, was stuffed with the severed genitals of the men in her family—an act of ultimate violation. But the worst was her posture. Decapitated, her small head rested in precarious balance on her lower abdomen, where her uterus once was, now replaced by this throne of flesh. Her limbs, torn off, had been inserted with unheard-of violence into her vagina, while her own fingers and toes, protruding from her open belly, served as a pedestal for her severed head.
Trizz's crimson eyes widened, his pupils trembling with a primal terror. His legs threatened to give way. Was this the true nature of the "form of love" preached by the Archbishop of Lust? A transformation of the being into pure, malleable organic matter?
In his mind, a voice rose—no longer sarcastic or haughty, but broken by absolute revulsion.
Echidna (Internal, her usually calm voice trembling with uncontrollable nausea): "Stop... Stop this right now! Look away, you fool! Do not defile my library with these images! Everything your eyes record, I am forced to experience as well! It is... It is an abomination that even a Witch should not know... I want to vomit up my soul!"
Even Echidna, the Witch of Greed, who had dissected thousands of demi-humans in the name of knowledge, whose curiosity knew no morality, was on the brink of breaking in the face of this sadistic gratuity.
Ignoring the Witch's retching, Trizz forced himself forward. He had to cross this hell. His boots made a wet, sticky sound on the blood-soaked floorboards.
Near the kitchen door, another corpse awaited him. A man, sitting with his back to the wall, as if resting. But his hands and feet had been amputated. His lower jaw had been torn away, his tongue hanging over his throat. The top of his skull had been sawed off and opened like a bowl. Inside, silver spoons were stuck into the gray matter, which had been stirred and kneaded. It looked like the work of a mad pastry chef working dough before putting it in the oven.
Trizz leaned against the doorframe, breathing through his mouth so as not to smell the exposed brain. He had to resist. If he collapsed here, he became part of the scenery. He convinced himself that he was above it all, that he had transcended psychological horror. It was a lie, but a necessary one.
He entered the kitchen, his movements mechanical, almost robotic. He grabbed a coarse canvas bag and began to fill it. A few fruits that hadn't been splashed, some stale bread, and a jar of jam whose glass was smeared with a bloody fingerprint. He added a canteen of water. To eat what came from this house was to commune with death, but his body needed fuel.
He stepped out of the house, the freezing outside air hitting his face, but failing to erase the indelible mental scar that had just opened in his mind.
Trizz (Whispering to himself, voice raspy): "If Subaru saw this... he is broken. Garfiel must have understood."
His theory was forming in pain: Garfiel, wanting to protect the "Saint" of the Trials, must have locked Subaru in an isolated cell to spare him this massacre, or to prevent him from seeing the failure of his work. If no one had found Subaru yet, it meant the idiot was probably dying of hunger and thirst in a dungeon, alone in the dark, while his world rotted outside.
(Time skip...)
The Tomb stood before him, a gaping maw of darkness amidst the ruins. Trizz stopped for a moment, not out of respect, but to evaluate his options. The question wasn't whether Emilia was alright, but whether she was usable. If she was alive, she would make an excellent magical meat shield. His own body, drained by the fight against the assassins, was at its breaking point. He needed a pawn, not a companion.
He pivoted on his heels, mentally adjusting his usual mask that of the devoted Knight, ready to sacrifice everything. If Emilia was huddling in the Tomb like a terrified rat, true to the original scenario, she would be easy to manipulate.
As he climbed the steps, the icy wind rushed into the entrance, whistling like a funereal flute. Suddenly, a female voice, dripping with disapproval, resonated directly in his cerebral cortex, nearly making him miss a step.
Echidna (Internal, dry and procedural tone): "According to Article 4, Paragraph 2 of our Engagement Contract, I remind you that you are formally forbidden from approaching another woman with such intent without my written permission."
Her voice was like a needle driven into his frontal lobe. No empathy, just a bureaucratic jealousy that would drive any normal human being insane.
Trizz (Internal, oozing contempt): "An «engagement contract»? Don't make me laugh. You practically savored my agony during the fight at the Manor, like someone watching a play, and you dared to utter the most humiliating phrase—worthy of the worst bitch in history—just before my consciousness faded!"
Echidna (Internal, unfazed): "I violated no rules. The contract stipulates that I possess the right of oversight and decision regarding your sentimental interactions. In exchange for my help with your loops, you belong to me. You signed, frizz."
He grit his teeth. She was right on the technicality. This cursed verbal pact prevented him from forming genuine relationships without the Witch's consent, turning him into a glorified puppet.
He delved deeper into the darkness of the Tomb, his red eyes scanning the void.
Trizz (Internal, playing on her greed for knowledge): "Fine, Witch. I get it. So, do you give me permission? Or would you rather see me die prematurely, depriving you of fascinating data on my survival?"
A silence, then the imaginary sound of a teacup being placed back on a saucer.
Echidna (Internal, disdainful): "Go ahead. But at the slightest temptation of real seduction, I will grind your mind to a pulp."
At the far end of the burial chamber, a familiar silhouette was curled against the cold stone. Emilia. Her head was buried between her knees, her silver hair forming a protective curtain around her, her entire body trembling.
Trizz approached slowly, controlling his breathing. He crouched down to her level and, with a calculated gesture, delicately brushed aside a lock of hair. He wore his most insidious smile—a perfect blend of warmth and pity.
Trizz (In a honeyed, enveloping voice): "Earth to Emilia? This is Trizz. You need to come back down... The world doesn't stop turning just because you're afraid."
She snapped her head up. Her amethyst eyes were wide—not with fear, but with a sudden adoration, as if she were seeing a guardian angel descending from the heavens. The moisture in her gaze wasn't sadness, but pure, almost painful relief.
Without warning, she threw herself at his neck with incredible force.
Trizz (Choking): "Ggh—!"
She clung to him like a child finding a lost toy, weeping every tear in her body against his shoulder.
Emilia (Voice muffled against his chest, ignoring all social distance): "I knew it... I knew you wouldn't leave! No one can understand me but you... Please, Trizz... don't ever abandon me again..."
Trizz patted her back mechanically, struggling to breathe. Emilia was a half-elf; her physical strength surpassed that of an adult man, and right now, she was crushing his ribcage. Was it genetics or latent potential? It didn't matter. He had just secured his weapon.
Trizz (Whispering, preparing his lie): "Shh... Yes, Emilia, I'm here. I apologize for the delay. It's not easy being everywhere at once... I had to go to the Manor to drive back the assassins..."
It was a blatant lie. The Manor was nothing more than a charnel house. Beatrice, Frederica, Petra... all slaughtered. But she didn't need to know that. For her to be his shield, he had to be her infallible hero.
Suddenly, Emilia stiffened. She pulled back, grabbing the collar of Trizz's cultist robe, and plunged her gaze into his, frantically searching for traces of injury.
Emilia: "You fought? You aren't hurt? Did..."

She stopped dead. Her eyes fixed on Trizz's lips, then moved back up to his eyes. In a fraction of a second, her face turned a violent crimson, the flush even reaching the tips of her pointed ears. She let go of his jacket as if it had burned her and jumped to her feet, breaking eye contact.
Emilia (Stuttering, heading toward the exit in a panic): "Ye-yes! YOU... You are forgiven! It's fine! We... we can leave here now!"
She practically fled toward the light outside. Trizz remained crouched, confused, blinking. Why had she reacted that way? Had he made a mistake? A new variable of fate?
Echidna (Internal, scathing): "Recall your stupid charm act before leaving. That little game in her room."
Trizz (Internal, standing up): "Oh, the jealous brat... That was nothing. I admit, I pushed the 'Prince Charming' angle a bit, but there was no problem. She just blushed."
Echidna (Internal, her tone rising in pitch): "Idiot! Do you truly understand nothing? That was not 'nothing'! Let's recap, shall we? During your first meeting, you nearly self-destructed to save her. Then, you saved the villagers and broke the curse after throwing yourself into the maws of Mabeasts. You restored her honor against Julius, defeated the Sloth Cult, created commercial funds and political influence that rivals that of the green-haired lady... (crush)..."
She paused, her voice dripping with contempt.
Echidna (Internal): "...You protected her from all physical, political, and psychological violence. She doesn't see you as a friend, moron! And now, on top of everything, you used a seduction technique while taking advantage of her mental fragility!"
Trizz stopped at the edge of the Tomb, the daylight blinding him.
Trizz (Internal): "So what? It's basic manipulation."

Echidna (Internal, with deep disgust): "You touched her ears! Is your brain as empty as this Tomb? This clearly shows that in your past life, you were nothing but an uncultured lone wolf. Among half-elves, touching the ears is an act of extreme intimacy! Traditionally, only lovers or spouses have that privilege!"
Trizz froze, his blank stare fixed on Emilia's retreating back. He had thought he was clever. He thought he was playing chess. But by forgetting to research the social codes of this world, he had done something far worse than manipulating her he had just, without knowing it, validated an implicit marriage proposal.
And the most terrifying part... was that Emilia had let him do it, even though she knew exactly what it meant.
He felt filthy. He had made the ultimate rookie mistake, a blunder that even the impulsive and idiotic Subaru had managed to avoid in all his loops. He had just, without realizing it, made a formal promise of engagement to Emilia.
He, who saw himself as the omniscient "Reader," the puppeteer pulling the strings of fate, was in reality the embodiment of a walking fool. He believed he controlled the world through his knowledge of the script, but the cultural lore of this world had just struck him full in the face.
He slowed his pace, his boots crunching heavily in the immaculate snow. The coarse canvas bag he carried on his back, filled with provisions stolen amidst the carnage, weighed a ton. It wasn't the weight of bread or water, but the weight of his own failure.
Emilia followed a few paces behind, timidly, for ten minutes. He felt her gaze burning the back of his neck. Why had his Pride, once his absolute weapon for crushing enemies, become such a burden? Since entering the Sanctuary, the universe seemed hell-bent on making him pay for the arrogance of his previous arc. Was it Karma? A divine punishment for believing he could rewrite history without paying the price?
Suddenly, the rustle of fabric was heard. Emilia, in her milky pink dressing gown that clashed with the winter cold, quickened her pace to close the icy gap between them. She approached, cheeks as red as Trizz's eyes, desperately seeking to break the oppressive silence.
Emilia (Hands clasped behind her back, swaying slightly with a curious smile): "Say, Trizz... where exactly are we going? And why are you carrying that bag? Did something serious happen while I was... busy in the Tomb?!"
Trizz stared at the white horizon, his red eyes void of any apparent emotion, masking the chaos of his thoughts.
Trizz (In a monotone, almost robotic voice): "No... everything is fine, Princess. It's just Barusu. He's playing hide-and-seek in a cell. This bag... let's just say it contains extra 'lives' for him. He tends to forget to eat when he's sulking."
They were now walking side by side. The physical distance had evaporated, but the mental chasm was immense. Emilia turned her face toward him, her amethyst eyes sparkling with a naivety that made Trizz feel nauseous.
Emilia (Trying to look perceptive): "Hiding? Is that another one of his weird games? ... Oh, but Trizz, I think you're going the wrong way. This path goes all the way around the forest. If we go through the village, we'll get to the detention place much faster, right? Normally, it's straight ahead."
Trizz's heart skipped a beat. His pupils contracted violently. If she spoke with such lightness, it confirmed his theory: she hadn't seen the village. She must have wandered around the Sanctuary out of boredom or distraction, miraculously avoiding the spectacle of Capella's human artillery.
He had to act. Fast. If she caught a single glimpse of the "garlands" of intestines or the "family sculpture" in the wooden house, her mind would break definitively, and goodbye magic shield. He had to divert her from the truth, even if it meant sinking deeper into his role as a fraudulent fiancé.
With a fluid but calculated movement, he put his arm around Emilia's shoulders, pulling her slightly against him to force her to look toward the forest, her back to the village.
Trizz (Voice raspy, spitting out every syllable of his sugar-coated lie): "No... It's not a mistake. I just wanted... for us to walk alone for a moment. To... get to know each other a little more, away from the commotion. What do you say?"
The effect was immediate. Emilia froze, caught off guard by the contact. Then, she literally melted against him. She pressed her body against his side, leaning her ear against his chest, listening to the erratic beating of Trizz's heart. To her, it was a romantic stroll tinged with heroism to go save their mutual friend. To him, it was a funeral march.
Emilia (Internal, thinking: He really wants to be with me... despite everything I am...
She looked up at him, her innocent gaze plunging into the crimson abyss of his irises.
Emilia (Voice trembling with emotion): "If... If that's what you want, then it's fine with me. Tell me, Trizz... what's your favorite color? Mine is purple. And white."
In his mind, Trizz heard the shrill sound of chalk screeching on a blackboard. It was Echidna, screaming in rage, her mental fangs ready to devour him. He had to say something that would satisfy the half-elf without causing the Witch a stroke.
Trizz (Improvising with an Olympian calm): "Mine is white and black. Like Yin and Yang. Two opposing forces that create a perfect balance. Just like you and me, Emilia. You are the warmth, the white light... and I am the strategist in the shadows, the cold plan that supports you."
He had managed to reference his "partner's" colors (and ironically those of Echidna's clothes), while turning it into a romantic compliment.
Emilia let out a small, crystalline laugh, the pure sound of a silver bell ringing in the freezing air. She squeezed Trizz's arm tighter, totally unaware she was embracing a man who had just walked through a slaughterhouse.
Emilia: "A cold strategist? Hmm... I don't think so. I think mostly you're a man with a big heart hiding behind an image of ice to protect himself."
Trizz didn't answer. He simply stared into the void ahead, feeling the bile rise. If only she knew the "ice" wasn't an image, but the only thing holding his pieces together.
Echidna (Internal, icy and venomous): "'White and Black'? You dare use my colors to hit on her? You truly are trash, my dear Trizz. Magnificent trash."
In the distance, the stone prison took shape, a dark blemish hidden behind the curtain of frosted trees. Trizz narrowed his eyes. His Authority of Pride granted him fragmented perception: eight simultaneous points of view, an 8x optical zoom. A feat for a human, certainly.
But beside him, Emilia walked with the ease of a feline predator. Her night vision and elven perception surpassed a natural 12x.
Trizz felt a sting of bitterness burn his stomach.
"Does the half-elf genome come with a full cheat code? Physical, Magic, Spirit... everything is maxed out."
Unlike the majority of reincarnated protagonists in his favorite novels, Trizz had received no "broken" power. Just an unstable Authority, a magnet for catastrophes. Yet his sin was not insignificant Pride, the mother of all vices. If Pandora were to die or be "replaced," Trizz would technically become the legitimate leader of the Witch Cult.
A leader without striking power, pathetically weak compared to monsters like Regulus or Sirius. His only true weapon, the one that made him superior to those fanatics, was his brain. And for now, his brain was on the verge of overheating.
They entered the black stone corridor. The smell of rancid dampness and despair hit him full force, making his blue-tinged lips tremble. He could have summoned "Aka"—his spiritual flame—to repel the biting cold, but he had to save every spark of mana. The idiot locked at the bottom of this hole would need it more than he did if they wanted to prevent him from freezing to death before the next loop.
Trizz stopped, feigning to peer into the darkness.
Trizz (Whispering, short of breath): "Emilia... Go ahead. Your senses are much sharper than my poor human eyes. You'll spot Barusu long before I do."
Emilia stopped dead and pivoted on her heels, worry marbling her pale face.
Emilia: "But... You're trembling. Is something wrong? I refuse to leave you behind! I'm staying with you."
Trizz masked his frustration beneath a smirk, a mask of calm he had mastered to perfection.
Trizz: "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not Barusu; I'm not going to collapse over a bit of cold. I just faced elite assassins without a single scratch, remember. Let's separate. We'll cover more ground."
He gave her an insistent, almost authoritative look. Emilia hesitated, puffing out her cheeks in a pout that would have melted anyone else.
Emilia: "If anything happens to you... You're going to regret it, Trizz!"
Trizz: "Loud and clear, Princess. I'll do everything to avoid having my ears pinched like a seven-year-old. Now, go."
As soon as she vanished into the darkness of the corridor, swallowed by the shadow, Trizz collapsed against the icy wall. His legs were shaking.
The panic he had been holding back with both hands surged.
He didn't care if Emilia saw him as a potential lover. The real problem was the Subaru equation. If the idiot in the tracksuit died, the world reset. But if he lived... and saw the woman of his life making soft eyes at Trizz?
Subaru worshipped Emilia. If he understood that she had transferred her affection to Trizz, jealousy could break him, or worse, make him lose all trust in his "friend."
He was trapped in his own strings. No manipulation could save him here. Fate was toyed with him. He was going to have to handle this on instinct.
Emilia (Her crystalline voice echoing): "TRIZZ! I FOUND HIM! STRAIGHT AHEAD THEN LEFT!"
Trizz pushed himself off the wall. He advanced into the tunnel like a condemned man walking toward the scaffold. Every step rang out like the knell of his past sins.
Echidna (Internal, giggling with delight): "Oh, my poor little frizz... Imagine the look on your 'best friend's' face when he sees you've stolen the woman of his life right from under his nose! I have a VIP seat for this show. Don't worry, my love, I'm cheering you on... from very far away."
The Witch had just delivered the final blow to his morale. His very existence was an error of nature. He was carrying on his back food stolen from a slaughtered family to feed the romantic rival he was currently betraying. What irony.
He arrived in front of the cell.
Sitting on the bare stone, curled up, a young man in an orange and black tracksuit was trembling violently. His eyes, circled by terror and exhaustion, were those of a hunted animal. It was Subaru.
Emilia was already kneeling near him, trying to warm him with her hands.
Trizz entered, his face hardened by the contempt he forced upon himself to keep from screaming. He tossed the canvas bag to the floor.
Trizz: "Here, Barusu. You look like you need this. Aka."
A golden glow, warm and benevolent, burst from Trizz's hand to envelop Subaru's silhouette. The shaking of the Japanese man's body ceased instantly, the magical warmth penetrating his frozen bones.
Without asking questions, moved by pure survival instinct, Subaru threw himself on the bag. He tore the top off the canteen and drank like a man who had been crossing the desert since birth, water streaming down his unshaven chin. He followed immediately, frantically stuffing fruit into his mouth.
Trizz (In a loud voice, feigning annoyance): "Idiot, don't choke! And save some for Emilia!"
Subaru stopped, cheeks full like a hamster, realizing his rudeness.
Subaru (Mouth full, sputtering): "Ah! Mmph... Sorry! Here, Emilia-tan! It's... it's really good!"
He held out a piece of fruit to the half-elf with hands trembling with devotion.
Emilia: "Thank you, Subaru..."
She took the fruit, but instead of looking at Subaru, her amethyst eyes immediately locked onto Trizz. A look heavy with meaning, full of gratitude and a tenderness that was anything but friendly.

Trizz felt a drop of cold sweat run down his back. It was starting. She wasn't even looking at Subaru anymore.
Sensing that the situation threatened to explode if Subaru caught that look, Trizz acted. He stepped forward, grabbed Subaru by the arm, and pulled him up unceremoniously.
Trizz: "Come on, up you go, Sleeping Beauty. We don't have all day. You can eat while we walk."
Subaru, confused, followed the movement, a piece of stale bread in one hand and two fruits in the other. He let himself be guided, displaying a blind trust in Trizz. The poor idiot had no idea that the hand raising him up was the same one holding the chains of his misfortune.
Trizz stopped abruptly. They were now far enough into the tunnel for the darkness to isolate them.
For the first time since his arrival in this world, Trizz yielded to pure paranoia. He closed his eyes and deployed a wave of sensory mana, an invisible pulse scanning the surroundings. It was a waste of energy, but he had to be certain. Absolutely certain that Emilia had not followed them.
The signal returned no one. Just the two of them and the oppressive silence of the stone.
He turned toward Subaru, staring him straight in the eyes. Trizz's gaze, usually so calculating, was marked by a self-loathing that clashed with his sin of Pride.
Trizz (In a low voice): "Barusu. I have a serious question. Are we friends? Are you ready to forgive me, no matter how grave the misunderstanding?"
Subaru tilted his head, an expression of pure confusion on his face. Why this question now? Trizz was his strategist, the only one who accepted his weaknesses, the one who turned his failures into complex plans.
Subaru (The smile fading bit by bit, replaced by doubt): "Uh... Yeah, obviously we're bros. But it depends... What did you break?"
Trizz wiped the cold sweat beading on his forehead. He had to remember he was Pride. He was above trivial human emotions. He was right; the world was wrong. That was his mantra.
He took a trembling breath, the icy air burning his lungs.
Trizz: "Barusu... Emilia no longer sees me as a friend. Are you sure you can forgive me? I need you. Just as you need me."
Subaru released the tension in his shoulders, a goofy smile returning to his lips.
Subaru (Laughing nervously): "Ah, is that it? She sees you like a big brother, right? Don't sweat it! As long as you give me tips on how to hit on her, I'm cool with it!"
Inside Trizz's skull, a feminine and impatient voice snapped like a whip.
Echidna (Internal, sarcastic): "Go on, Trizz. Don't be a coward. Listen to your Pride. Rip the bandage off in one go."
Cursed Witch. Cursed fate. Cursed Tappei Nagatsuki.
Trizz closed his crimson eyes, bracing his muscles for the inevitable impact.
Trizz: "No. Emilia now sees me as a potential lover. I'm sorry, Barusu. It wasn't intentional."
The silence that followed was heavier than the stone of the Tomb. Subaru stepped back twice, staggering as if he had received an invisible slap. His eyes widened, pure horror distorting his features. His best friend. His only ally in this hell of time loops. He had just stolen the hand of his Emilia-tan.
He knew Trizz and Emilia were close, but he had always convinced himself it was platonic.
Subaru (Voice broken): "No... frizz... Why... What did you do?"
Trizz (Raising his hands in a gesture of peace): "I'll explain. I touched her ears. I didn't know... I didn't know that in half-elf culture, that's the equivalent of a formal marriage proposal. It was a cultural error, Barusu!"
Subaru (Clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white): "No... You bastard!"
Trizz's combat instinct, sharpened by weeks of survival, saw the blow coming long before it was thrown. He saw the rotation of Subaru's shoulder, the contraction of his hips. He could have dodged. He could have blocked. He could have broken Subaru's wrist with a single movement.
But he didn't move. He deserved this.
Subaru's fist slammed into his stomach with a dull thud.
His breath hitching, Trizz doubled over, spitting a thread of saliva. A burning pain radiated through his abdomen, but he welcomed it without flinching.
Trizz (Gasping): "Wait... Listen to me!"
Subaru (In a blind rage): "There's nothing to listen to! You betrayed me! You're trash! You could have had anyone, you had all the waifus in the world for yourself, but you had to steal Emilia-tan from me!"
Subaru followed through. A right hook crashed against Trizz's jaw. The sharp sound of cracking bone echoed in the tunnel. Trizz fell backward onto the cold floor, blood mixed with saliva flowing from his split lip.
Subaru lunged at him, straddling his chest, his hands closing around the young man's throat. He squeezed. He squeezed with all his might, weeping with rage.
It was pathetic. And useless.
Trizz felt his windpipe being crushed, but his Authority of Pride was already activating. Resistance buff. Cellular regeneration. Before Subaru could even finish his movement, Trizz's tissues were repairing themselves. With every blow Subaru landed on his face, Trizz's skin stitched itself back together, the bruises vanishing in a fraction of a second. It was the ultimate insult: Subaru was damaging his hands striking a face that refused to stay injured.
Trizz (Voice raspy despite the strangulation): "Listen... you idiot... It was after the save point... If you die now... everything that happened will be erased. You'll find your Emilia-tan again, pristine, with no memory of any of this..."
Subaru (Striking again, tears in his eyes): "Why would I listen to you?! You took advantage of her! It takes me weeks just to make her blush, and you... you just show up and take everything!"
Trizz (Impassable under the blows): "I never flirted with her... I kept a glacial distance... Out of respect for our shared Isekai past..."
Subaru screamed, frustrated by the physical perfection of his opponent who healed in real-time. This invulnerability was driving him mad.
Subaru: "We have nothing to do with each other anymore! You stole Emilia from me! Even if the world resets, I will never forget your betrayal!"
The word hung in the air. Betrayal.
Time seemed to freeze for Trizz.
That word echoed to the very roots of his soul, awakening an old scar from Arc 2. The memory of the forest. The cold. The teeth.
Subaru was calling him a traitor? Him? After everything he had endured? After all the times he had carried the burden of Subaru's mistakes without ever asking for a thank you?
Trizz's gaze shifted. Guilt evaporated, replaced by a cold, dark hatred. His crimson pupils glowed with a terrifying light.
Trizz (In a voice that made Subaru tremble): "Me... a traitor?"
With a brutal shove, Trizz sat up, sending Subaru flying to the side like a ragdoll. He stood up, towering over the Japanese boy curled on the ground.
Trizz (Face twisted with rage): "You have a short memory, Barusu! When you threw me into the pack of Mabeasts to save your own skin and that of your precious Rem, when you let me be devoured alive by those demonic dogs... You weren't a traitor then, perhaps?!"
Subaru froze, mouth agape, breath hitching. The rage vanished instantly, replaced by a glacial lucidity.
The memories of Arc 2, at the Roswaal Manor. Because of the curse, in the panic, a lapse in judgment... He had pushed Trizz.
Trizz had taken 48 hours to fully regenerate in the middle of the forest, alone, his body torn apart piece by piece, waiting for his flesh to grow back in solitude.
Trizz (Approaching, menacing): "You made me suffer the worst of atrocities. Being eaten alive. And yet... I forgave you, didn't I? I came back. I helped you."
He spat blood on the ground, the last vestige of the beating he had just received.
Trizz: "Unlike you, whimpering because you didn't get your sweet word or your romantic moment, I accumulated traumas to refine my strategies. I trained my magic to the point of exhaustion while you ran like a lapdog behind your goddess."
He leaned toward Subaru, his shadow swallowing the boy in the tracksuit.
Trizz: "This world isn't a Dating Sim, Barusu. And you... you're just a selfish brat."
He turned away and began walking toward the exit, leaving Subaru sitting on the cold stone, his bruised hands trembling on his knees. The weight of the debt he owed Trizz had just crushed him. If Emilia was interested in Trizz, it wasn't by magic. It was perhaps simply because, between the two of them, one was a child, and the other was a man who had walked through hell without ever complaining.
The polar air of the Sanctuary greeted the trio at the exit of the Tomb, but the silence that reigned was not one of peace. It was a heavy, abnormal silence. Trizz scanned the horizon. Where is the Great Rabbit? According to his calculations, the snow should have already been swarming with those foul beasts.
Behind him, Subaru walked with a heavy step, broken by the revelations in the tunnel. Emilia, meanwhile, hurried her pace to reach Trizz, her anchor. Trizz felt his empathy crumbling. Ever since he had ended Ram's days, a sociopathic coldness had settled within him. He no longer saw human beings, but variables...
Suddenly, every nerve ending in Trizz screamed murder. His instinct, sharpened by the Authority of Pride, projected an image of imminent death.
In a sudden movement, he threw himself onto Emilia. To an observer, it was a heroic act. In reality, his logic was purely selfish the attacker was aiming for the center of the group, and Emilia was his closest shield. They rolled in the snow, Trizz pinning the half-elf to the ground.
Emilia, her face inches from his, felt her heart skip a beat. She turned bright red, her eyes wandering into Trizz's.
Trizz (Panicked, pupils contracted): "Emilia! Now is not the time to blush, you idiot! We're under attack!"
He pointed to a thin trail in the air, an invisible depression that had just severed a tree behind them. A wind blade. Ram was dead by his hands. Lyra was out of the fight. There was only one person left capable of such precision.
Trizz (Standing up, voice stinging): "ROSWAAL!"
A colorful silhouette descended from the sky, floating with supernatural grace. The clown makeup, the asymmetrical smile, the heterochromatic gaze shining with a malevolent light.
Roswaal (In a singsong voice): "Oh my deeeeear Trizz-kun... You discovered my identity in the blink of an eye? Congratulations! PRIDE!"

The word fell like a guillotine. Emilia, still on the ground, trembled.
Emilia: "Pri...? Pride? Roswaal, what are you talking about? Trizz has protected us from the beginning... you must be mistaken!"
Roswaal landed heavily in the powder, his smile fading to reveal a mask of contained fury.
Roswaal (Hand on chin): "Emilia-sama, I apologize for not enlightening you on the true nature of our dear «friend.» This monster dared to murder Ram with his own hands. And while you were hiding, he deployed his allies to slaughter every soul in the Sanctuary and the Manor. Aside from you two, everyone is dead."
Trizz understood the loop was lost. The Great Rabbit was coming; he felt the first vibrations. An arrogant, almost demented smile stretched his lips. He raised his arms to the sky, mimicking Echidna's theatrical pose.
Trizz (Bursting into a wild laugh): "Sorry, Emilia... I would have liked to make the pleasure last. Allow me to introduce myself Sin Archbishop representing Pride, in the form of Determination! HAHAHAHA!"
Subaru was paralyzed. He knew Trizz was Pride, but he didn't know about Ram... and he didn't understand why Roswaal was lying about the villagers when it was Capella's work. Roswaal, for his part, watched Trizz with suspicion. Why is this kid accusing himself of the crimes I committed? What is his plan?
Emilia stood up, a fragile, almost pleading smile on her lips. She refused to believe in the end of her dream.
Emilia: "Trizz... stop joking. It's not funny to pretend to be a monster..."
Trizz turned slowly toward her. His crimson eyes had become abysses of shadow, void of all the humanity he had simulated until then.
Trizz (Cold, sharp as a scalpel): "Joking? Everything was planned, Emilia. Barusu and I were accomplices. I was supposed to bring you here to execute you after cleaning out the Manor. Roswaal? He's just one more traitor who finished my work in the Sanctuary."
Subaru (Screaming in despair): "Stop your bullshit, frizz! Dammit, it's not funny! Emilia-tan, don't listen to him! I never wanted to hurt you!"
Emilia stepped back, avoiding Subaru's outstretched hand as if it were covered in plague. She looked at these three men—her support, her hero, her tutor—and saw only strangers, monsters, or liars. The snow began to stir. The first rabbit poked its nose out, its eye blood-red.
The wind was already howling, but it was nothing compared to the storm brewing in Trizz's gaze. He turned toward the Clown, a smirk on his face, almost disappointed.
Trizz: "Tell me, Roswaal... Why the hesitation? You could have killed Emilia with a snap of your fingers while I was talking. Why hold back? Everyone is already... (he slowly turned his head toward Emilia, savoring every syllable)... dead."
Roswaal narrowed his eyes, his pristine makeup cracking under the lack of understanding. He was looking for the flaw, the trap.
Roswaal: "Whwaaaat are you planning, Trizz-kun? I have nothing to do with this grotesque masquerade. Your accusations are... unfounded."
In Trizz's mind, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Roswaal hadn't attacked directly. He had subcontracted the work to Capella and her assassins. Why? Because he couldn't. Satella's Shadow, or some other restriction linked to the Gospel, prevented him from delivering the fatal blow to Pride. Roswaal wanted to sell him out, not kill him.
Trizz broke into a brief, dry laugh.
Trizz (Arrogant, eyes shining with madness): "What a bunch of cowards... You, who don't dare get your hands dirty, and you, Emilia... (He pointed at her with disgust). Look at yourself. You're alone. It's three against one. Save us some time and die, please."
Emilia faltered. Her hands gripped her silver hair, her eyes trembling in their sockets. The mental pressure was too much. Trizz's mask, Subaru's supposed betrayal, Roswaal's cruelty... her world was collapsing.
Emilia (Voice high-pitched, on the verge of hysteria): "No... It's not true... You're my friends! You can't... Puck! Where are you?! PUCK! Come back, I beg you! Don't leave me alone with them!"
Subaru stepped in, arms spread, making a barrier of his frail body between the broken half-elf and the two monsters.
Subaru (Desperate): "Stop this! What the hell are you doing?! This isn't funny anymore! Frizz, Roswaal, we're supposed to be a team!"
Trizz tilted his head, his crimson gaze piercing Subaru.
Trizz: "A team? Don't be naive, Barusu. You're close enough to her, aren't you? Then do it. Kill her."
The instant those words were spoken, the air became solid. The temperature plummeted twenty degrees in a second. Emilia's magic, reacting to her absolute emotional distress, began to spiral out of control. The blizzard was rising. This was the signal. Self-destruction.
Emilia (An inhuman scream, mixed with sobs): "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! LIARS! TRAITORS! YOU ARE NOT MY FRIENDS!"
Roswaal understood instantly. Trizz wasn't trying to win the fight; he was trying to cancel the match by freezing the board.
With a magical impulse, the Marquis charged. His speed was supersonic. His knee, charged with mana, aimed directly for Trizz's windpipe to silence him forever.
Trizz (Internal): "Well played, but too slow. El Dona El Aka!"
A wall of crimson flames exploded in front of him, not to burn Roswaal, but to create a shockwave. The impact was terrible. Trizz was thrown backward, rolling in the snow, but his throat was intact. He stood up painfully, spitting blood, a victorious smile on his lips.
He had to win ten more seconds. Just enough for the cold to become irreversible.
Trizz (Screaming to cover the sound of the wind): "Echidna! I hope you're enjoying the show! Look at your 'student'! I hope he has more guts than this!"
Roswaal froze in his tracks. The name of his mistress, spoken with such familiarity, struck him like lightning.
Roswaal (Eyes wide, heterochromia vibrating): "How... How dare you utter her name? Is this a bluff? Speak!"
In Trizz's head, the voice of the Witch resonated, suave and cruel.
Echidna (Internal, a tone of pure delectation, licking her lips): "Oh yes... He is ready to crack. Tell him about the kiss, my darling. Give me a juicy reaction. Break his devoted little heart."
Trizz wiped the blood from his chin and struck a theatrical pose, opening his arms as if to embrace the storm.
Trizz: "Oh, Roswaal... Do you think you're special? Your dear Mistress told me about your little intimacies. Let me guess: a kiss on the forehead? A pat on the head? Is that all it took to make you her slave for four hundred years?"
He took a step toward the Clown, his smile widening.
Trizz (Honeyed and provocative voice): "I, however, always get better. Echidna has a taste for Pride that is more... pronounced. Especially when she uses her tongue. It is so flavorful, Roswaal... Pity she prefers the saliva of a 'brat' like me over that of a dusty relic like you!"
Roswaal's face decomposed. He was no longer the powerful Court Wizard, nor the cold manipulator. He was a child whose only toy had just been snatched away. Pure, toxic, and consuming jealousy shattered his reason.
Roswaal (Holding his head in both hands, screaming): "NO! NO! NO! SHUT UP! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE! SHE WOULD NEVER DO THAT! Sensei would never have chosen a piece of trash, a weakling, a filth like you! I CURSE YOU, PRIDE! I CURSE YOU!"
He began to channel an apocalyptic magic to disintegrate Trizz, but it was too late.
Emilia's cold had reached absolute zero.
Trizz felt his lungs crystallize. His legs no longer responded. In the distance, the leaping shadows of the Great Rabbit approached, but they would find nothing but frozen meat.
Subaru was already an ice statue, his face frozen in an expression of eternal horror, hand outstretched toward Emilia like a useless hero.
Roswaal, mad with rage, froze in place, his magic dying at his fingertips.
Trizz, unable to move, cast one last look at the gray sky. He no longer felt pain. Only the satisfaction of Pride.
I won, he thought as his consciousness faded. Even in death, I am the one who decides when the play ends.
The biting cold of the stone told him he was back.
Trizz opened his eyes in the gloom of the Tomb. His self-destruction plan had worked. This was the third time he had used this "suicidal technique" to gather crucial information. For him, death was no longer an end, but a simple save mechanism.
Against his chest, a trembling mass was sobbing. Just like in the previous loop, Emilia was in the midst of a psychological collapse, broken by the Trials.
Emilia (Voice broken, muffled against his jacket): "I didn't do anything... I didn't do anything wrong... I'm so sorry... I couldn't save them..."
Trizz, face impassive, engaged automatic mode. He mechanically stroked the silver hair of the half-elf, his lips churning out the same comforting lies, copy-pasted from the previous loop. It was a routine, a line of code he executed to soothe an unstable variable.
Trizz (In a soft voice, toxic as honey): "Shh... It's alright, Emilia. Sleep. I'll take care of everything. The nightmare is over."
Under the effect of his hypnotic words and exhaustion, she sank into unconsciousness, her mind seeking refuge in sleep like a terrified infant. Trizz detached her from him and laid her gently on the cold stone.
He turned his head. In the shadows, Subaru sat, hand clamped over his mouth, eyes bulging. He was trembling all over, staring at Trizz not as a friend, but as if a demon had just appeared in his place.
Trizz stood up and approached, extending a helping hand.
Trizz: "Calm down, Barusu. Breathe. It was the only way to save us all."
Subaru struck the extended hand violently, backing away until he hit the wall. Fear and disgust twisted his features.
Subaru (Almost screaming): "The only way to save us?! Are you kidding me?! You deliberately turned Emilia-tan into a nuclear bomb! And Roswaal... he said you killed everyone! Was Emilia-tan on your list too, is that it?!"
Subaru no longer saw the loyal strategist. He saw the cold-blooded monster who had just conversed with Roswaal in the middle of a deadly blizzard.
Trizz's face hardened. He had no time for crises of conscience. He lunged at Subaru, grabbed him by the collar of his tracksuit, and slammed him violently against the stone wall.
Trizz (Glacial voice, eyes locked into Subaru's): "Listen to me well, you idiot. Roswaal was lying. He is the one who killed everyone. He hired assassins to turn the Sanctuary into a charnel house. I won't even mention the Manor. He didn't want to kill us, Barusu. He wanted to sell us."
Subaru froze, trying to process the information. Roswaal? The benefactor who had welcomed them? It was impossible... but the puzzle pieces were starting to fit.
Trizz (Continuing his verbal offensive): "He planned to deliver us to Capella, the Sin Archbishop of Lust."
Subaru (Short of breath): "Lust? Who is that? What does she want from us?!"
Trizz released the pressure, smoothing his jacket with terrifying calm.
Trizz: "She is the most sadistic Archbishop of the Cult. She doesn't just kill. She transforms. She takes humans and turns them into living 'furniture,' into puddles of conscious flesh, into grotesque animals. She flays her victims and keeps them alive for eternity in absolute suffering. That is the fate Roswaal had planned for Emilia."
Subaru turned deathly pale. The mental image was unbearable. He would rather die a hundred times than see Emilia suffer that.
Subaru (Voice trembling): "Why... Why would Roswaal do such a thing? It's horrible..."
Trizz: "Think, Barusu. Our first meeting? He was the one who paid Elsa to steal the insignia and kill us. The Mabeasts in the forest? He sent Meili. The Witch Cult? He lured them with his Gospel. All for one thing to force your Return by Death and mold us according to his desires to resurrect his mistress, Echidna."
Subaru collapsed to his knees. The weight of guilt crushed him. He had doubted Trizz. He had judged him, hit him, insulted him... while Trizz carried this burden alone, fighting in the shadows against a millennial psychopath. Trizz was a monster, perhaps, but he was their monster. The only shield against hell.
Subaru (Standing up painfully, tears in his eyes): "I'm sorry... I didn't know... What is the plan now?"
Trizz flashed a smirk. He had regained control of his pawn.
Trizz (Patting his shoulder): "The plan is simple. The Cultists attack either on the evening of the fifth day or the morning of the sixth. Elsa, Meili, and two new elite killers, accompanied by an army of creatures, will strike on the fifth day. It's far too much for us."
Subaru took a step back, horrified by the scale of the threat.
Trizz: "So, we are going to cheat. We will place explosive fire crystals all around the Sanctuary to trap the army. We will have to 'tame' Ram so she doesn't get in our way. And then... we will attack the Manor by surprise on the fourth day. We will beat Roswaal to the punch."
Subaru: "Tame Ram? But... is she our enemy too?"
Trizz: "Not willingly. She is bound by a pact and by Roswaal's threats. If we play our cards right, she will be neutral."
He raised his hand. A golden glow, Aka, enveloped Subaru, decupling his physical strength.
Trizz: "Carry Emilia. We're leaving. I'll explain the details on the way."
Subaru lifted the unconscious half-elf with supernatural ease, carrying her like a bride. Trizz watched him move toward the exit, his face set. He knew this loop was just a draft. A "Test Run." His enemies were too powerful, too unpredictable. He would probably have to die again.
As he was about to cross the threshold of the Tomb, the world wavered. His vision blurred, colors saturated. A forced invitation.
Echidna (Her voice echoing directly in the Tomb, honeyed and tempting): "frizz... Won't you come have tea? We have so much to say to each other... I wanted to ~reward you for that magnificent show..."
Trizz stopped dead. The mere thought of sitting at her table after what he had just experienced made him nauseous. He mobilized all his mental will and repelled the intrusion with raw psychic violence.
Trizz (Growling with visceral disgust): "Shut up, Echidna. Greed is not charity. Keep your tea and biscuits. If you want to talk to me, use telepathy like usual. I have no time to waste in your dreams."
The world regained its sharpness. The invitation was declined.
He stepped out into the freezing air of the Sanctuary, leaving behind the darkness of the Tomb, ready to set the world on fire to win this impossible game of chess.
(Time skip Day 2...)
The basement of the wooden house creaked under Trizz's boots. Behind a worm-eaten shelf, he had flushed out a secret passage. It was here, in this cellar oozing humidity and ozone, that Echidna conducted her most unspeakable experiments, camouflaged under the label of "scientific research."
Trizz settled at a stone workbench, handling fire crystals with surgical precision.
Trizz (Whispering, focused): "Plunge into water... five minutes. Scrape. Delicately."
The process was tedious. Any friction too rough on the fire stone risked turning him into ash. He extracted the black powder using a method inspired by Berserk—the manga that had forged his worldview dark, violent, and pitiless toward the weak. These "Little Booms," as he called them, were not magic, but raw chemistry.
In his mind, Echidna's voice resonated, tinged with an annoying familiarity.
Echidna (Internal, in a playful tone): "You know, scraping that powder reminds me of the way you try to pierce my mysteries... It's almost erotic."
Trizz (Internal, cold): "Shut up. Your contract forbids me from relationships for three months, but it doesn't forbid you from closing your mouth. Just be my counsel of macabre wisdom."
He saw through her masks, and that seemed to excite the Witch instead of offending her. She was a monster, but a monster trapped by her own greed... and by that absurd engagement contract he had managed to extort from her.
The afternoons were dedicated to sweat and blood. In the courtyard of the Tomb, Trizz practiced channeling mana.
Trizz: "UL AKA!"
An aura of white and golden heat enveloped his body, boosting his muscles and reflexes beyond human limits. Maintaining this level 3 spell required inhuman concentration.
Trizz (Gasping, veins bulging on his forehead): "Mastery... manipulation... no innate potential here."
He spat on the ground, thinking of the low-budget novel protagonists who mastered such spells in the blink of an eye. Liars. Impostors. Even Priscilla Barielle and her so-called "insolent luck" were nothing but Vainglory to him compared to the iron discipline he imposed on himself. Thanks to lessons from Beatrice (his mistress "Betty") and mental corrections from Echidna, he was finally managing to erect earthen walls with EL DONA while maintaining his fire buff.
As he emerged from the Tomb, Emilia—her eyes reddened by another failure in the Trials—literally threw herself into his arms. Trizz caught her, stroking her back with the robotic tenderness of an automaton.
Emilia (Sobbing): "Trizz... I can't do it... I'm so useless..."
Trizz (A hollow smile): "No, Princess. It's just a matter of time. Get some rest."
Over the half-elf's shoulder, his gaze met that of Otto Suwen. The merchant stood by the well, arms crossed, observing him with unconcealed suspicion. Otto asked too many questions. He set verbal traps, searching for the flaw in Trizz's narrative. Without Echidna's mental alerts, Trizz would have already made a slip-up.
Otto was smart. Too smart for a simple merchant. He suspected the "true nature" of Trizz's Pride.
Trizz (Internal, staring at Otto with a dark glint): "My dear Otto... Don't be in such a hurry. You are a useful variable for now. But when the time comes, you will see my true nature... and you will accept it of your own free will. Because I will have broken you before you can say a word."
He had a plan to neutralize Otto after Arc 4. A plan that required no blood, only total submission. For now, he settled for a friendly nod, while Echidna giggled in his skull at such darkness.
(Time skip Day 3...)
The perimeter was secure. Trizz sat heavily on a frosted rock, adjusting the folds of his black and orange robe. This Cult attire, stained with dried blood, had become his second skin. Ironically, it was a tribute to the "Subaru Pride IF" novels he had read long ago. But here, it was also a tactical necessity.
After a long, toxic verbal joust with Echidna, he had learned that this specific fabric masked about 60% of his Miasma. Better existed, of course: a legendary cloth woven by the Divine Generals of Vollachia, capable of totally camouflaging the Witch's identity and scent. This fabric had belonged to a legendary Mage from 400 years ago—likely Flugel or one of his allies—a being who mastered the six elements and commanded an army of spirits with an ease that would make Julius look like a child waving a wooden stick.
But for now, Trizz had to make do with this dirty robe.
In the distance, he heard a muffled explosion followed by a high-pitched cry.
Trizz (Smirking): "Failed again, Barusu..."
He had left his Quasi-Spirit, Styler (Yang), with Subaru to help him mine the East and West zones. Even if the idiot blew himself up, the Pride defensive buff and the protection of Aka would keep him alive. That was the least of his worries.
Soft footsteps crunched in the snow behind him.
Punctual. Just like in the previous loop.
A pink-haired maid, her outfit impeccable despite the cold, approached. Her face was a mask of absolute disdain. It was Ram. The same Ram he had murdered with his own hands in another life, but who stood there now, living and arrogant.
Ram (Voice dripping with contempt): "Still as hideous to look at, frizz. Ram feels nauseous just laying eyes on you. You are pathetic. You should really consider taking a shower, or dying, for the sake of everyone's hygiene."
Trizz didn't move. He didn't reply. He simply stared at the horizon, his crimson eyes void of any human warmth. This silence disturbed the maid. Usually, he answered, he defended himself. Now, he was... absent. Or too present.
Ram (Masking her unease with a more professional tone): "Ram is here because you are to follow her. Roswaal-sama has crucial instructions regarding the Sanctuary's barrier. This is not a discussion to be had in the open air."
The trap was crude. Isolate him in the forest, far from Emilia and Subaru, to eliminate him discreetly.
Trizz stood up with a sharp movement, shattering the ice statue he had become. He pivoted slowly toward her.
Trizz (In a monotone voice): "I know that's a lie. I just finished patrolling the barriers. The magical fluctuations are stable. Your pretext is empty, Ram."
Ram (Slightly tensing her fingers on her skirt): "Ram said it was important. It doesn't just concern the barrier, you idiot. Follow me."

Trizz took a step toward her. Then two. He invaded her personal space with predatory confidence, using his height (1m78) to tower over her. He dropped his mask of indifference for that of the "misunderstood Protector."
Trizz: "I know you love Roswaal. I know he is everything to you. And I also know he's the one who ordered you to lure me into the woods to slit my throat like a sick animal. I know everything, Ram."
The maid's red eyes widened. Pure, instinctive fear replaced the sarcasm. How could he know? His intelligence was frightening, but this... this was divination.
Ram (Stepping back, voice trembling with cold rage): "Ram doesn't know what you're talking about. You're delusional, Trizz. Your savage training has fried what few neurons you had left. You're becoming paranoid."
Trizz (Softly, almost sadly): "I'm delusional? I train too much? You think I do this for glory?"
He stepped closer again, forcing her to tilt her head to hold his gaze.
Trizz: "My muscles are for war. My brain is for survival. And all of it... I do for you. And for Rem."
The name struck Ram like a physical slap.
She froze. The "Sin Archbishop of Gluttony" had erased Rem from the world's memory, but the emotional void remained, a gaping wound in her twin sister's soul.
Ram (Short of breath): "You're lying... Ram knows you're lying! You say you do this for Emilia-sama! You're nothing but a manipulator!"
Trizz placed his hands gently on the demon's frail shoulders. He anchored his gaze in hers, injecting every ounce of his acting talent into the lie.
Trizz: "For Emilia, it's a duty. But for Rem... it was love. And by extension, that love extends to you, Ram. I promised you I would bring her back, didn't I? Everything I do is to honor the memory of the one who loved me."
He lied with terrifying fluidity. There was a sense of admiration bordering on worship that Rem had felt for Trizz, but Rem's heart had chosen Subaru; since that day, he had begun to be cold with all his allies. He used Subaru's memories from the anime to fill in the blanks and create a false history. It was cruel. It was effective.
Trizz (Whispering): "I want to protect you, Ram. But for that, I need you to stop being Roswaal's plaything. Trust me. Tell me your burden."
Ram was trembling. Her instinct screamed at her to flee, but her heart, desperate to find that missing piece of herself, wanted to believe this dark knight. If her sister had chosen him... then he must be trustworthy. It was the law of blood.
Ram (Voice broken, eyes wet): "Ram wonders... how you can know everything... You know very well that if Roswaal finds out I didn't kill you, he will sink into madness. What do you propose, «Mr. Knight»?"
Trizz smiled. Not a smile of joy, but that of a chess player who had just taken the opponent's Queen.
Trizz: "I offer you a deal. You let me handle the attack. In exchange, I will help you destroy the Gospel. We will break the chains that bind your master to the shadow of the Witch. I will give you back the Roswaal you love, free from his madness."
It was the ultimate offer. The only thing Ram desired more than her own life.
Ram: "Do you promise, frizz? This isn't one of your facades? You swear it... on Rem?"
Trizz raised his hand, palm open, mimicking a sacred promise.
Trizz: "I swear it on my life. And on Rem's. She was devoted to me; I owe her at least that."
The dam broke. Ram, the iron maid, the proud demon, collapsed forward. She buried her face in Trizz's chest, her hands clutching the rough fabric of his blood-stained robe, silently crying all the tears she had held back for years.
Ram (Muffled): "Ram isn't crying... It's just... there's dust in the air..."
Trizz placed his hand on the silky pink hair. He began to stroke it, slowly, rhythmically.
To Ram, it was a gesture of brotherly comfort.
To Trizz, it was the gesture of a master praising a pet that had finally learned to give its paw. He looked over the young woman's head, his eyes staring into the void with absolute coldness. He had just turned the enemy camp's most dangerous weapon into a loyal shield.
In his mind, a feminine voice purred with pleasure.
Echidna (Internal, delectable): "It's so delicious, Trizz... Using the ghost of a forgotten sister to enslave the living one... You truly are a first-class piece of trash. Thank you for this show. Let's move on to the next part."
(Time skip Day 4...)
The convoy set off, the wagon wheels crushing the dead leaves of the Sanctuary. Trizz, sitting at the front, let out a sigh of relief. Convincing Garfiel had been no small task. After seeing Elsa in action, Trizz had realized that a direct confrontation with the "Guardian of the Sanctuary" would end with his own entrails spread across the ground. So, he had struck where it hurt Frederica. By using Garfiel's trauma of abandonment and his fear of the outside world, he had turned the tiger into a temporarily docile ally, left behind at the Sanctuary to protect the rear.
Beside him, Ram held the reins. She was silent, but her presence was an iron shield.
Subaru, unable to stay still, eventually crawled toward Trizz, his face twisted with devouring curiosity.
Subaru (Whispering, eyes fixed on Ram): "Man... how'd you do it? She's listening to your every word. Her sarcasm has dropped by half. What is this? A new conquest for your harem of psychopaths?"
Trizz pushed Subaru's face away with a firm hand, a glint of contempt in his eyes.
Trizz (Coldly): "Shut up, Barusu. Ram feels nothing for me. Let's just say I used... a 'forbidden technique'."
Far from being discouraged, Subaru drew closer still, eyes shining with misplaced admiration. He saw in Trizz the "pro" he dreamed of being to seduce Emilia.
Subaru: "Come on, cough it up! Royal candidates, maids, psychopaths... they're all at your feet. I want to reach that level. For Emilia-tan."
Trizz stole a glance at Ram. He had to seal her loyalty once and for all in public. He raised his voice so that every word pierced the sound of the wind.
Trizz (Raising his voice, arrogant): "Those royal candidates? They are selfish, Barusu. They seek only power, not the heart. Unlike them, my heart already belongs to the most wonderful and devoted woman in the world."
He did not specify whom he was talking about, letting Rem's specter hover between them. He saw a faint smile tug at the corner of Ram's lips. The hook was set.
Subaru (Skeptical): "What? You're babbling those tall tales again. Stop taking me for a fool; you don't have anyone in mind!"
Suddenly, Ram pivoted in her seat, her red eyes flashing with icy glints.
Ram: "What did the idiot Barusu just stammer? Do you think those bargain-bin candidates are worth more than Rem?"
Trizz sensed this was the ideal moment to vent his frustration on Subaru and end the interrogation.
Trizz (Provocative smile): "That's not all, Ram. He was telling me about his fantasies concerning you and your sister. Apparently, he thinks that since you're twins, he could «try both.» He even dared to say that Rem had better curves than you, practically calling you a... flat board."
Ram's face turned white, then red with fury.
Ram (A vein throbbing at her temple, furious): "frizz, take the reins. I'm going to make this pig regret being born with a tongue."
Subaru (Waving his arms in a panic): "What?! No! Ram, that's not true! I was just asking for dating advice, nothing more!"
By mentioning "dating advice," Subaru had just admitted he saw women as targets to be conquered. Subaru had sealed his fate. Trizz nimbly moved to the front, letting the maid dive into the carriage to "correct" Subaru with wind magic, punches, and bloody insults.
In the silence of his mind, another storm broke out.
Echidna (Internal, glacial tone): "Your heart belongs to someone else? Take back what you just said, Trizz! Otherwise, I'll turn your precious half-elf into an empty shell during her Trials!"
Trizz (Internal): "But of course. My soul belongs to you by contract, and my heart by extension for the next three months. Now, shut up. Keep your miserable jealousy to yourself."
Echidna (Internal, feigning being hurt): "My miserable jealousy?! You wound my dear little heart! You will regret this bitterly!"
Trizz (Internal): "You are devoid of emotions—you said so yourself. Don't play the victim; it doesn't fit your myth of an omniscient divinity."
The Witch retreated into a sulky silence. Trizz savored this brief moment of peace. He knew that by using her own arguments against her, he was cracking her posture of superiority. She was merely an entity starved for attention, and he fully intended to use her to the bone.

The carriage continued its journey toward the Manor. Day 4 was beginning, and with it, the countdown to the slaughterhouse that Trizz had to either prevent... or direct.