Chapter XVIII:
Mine, Mine, Mine
"How many casualties?" Subaru asked, his voice hollow as he surveyed the desolate battlefield.
Now that morning had come, the full extent of the destruction was laid bare before him. The camp was in ruins—broken earth, shattered carts, and the bloodstained remnants of a brutal battle.
Crusch had gathered the commanders together in the aftermath of the White Whale's defeat. Around the table stood Rom, Subaru, Felt, and Ricardo, while the rest of the army searched the camp for survivors—or the bodies of the fallen.
"We're not entirely sure," Crusch admitted, shaking her head. "The Whale's ability to erase memories complicates things. But from what we can tell, around a quarter of our forces are dead, and half of those who remain are unfit to fight."
Subaru's frown deepened as he glanced toward the assembly area. Those still able-bodied were loading the wounded into the few remaining carts. If they had been in formation—if they had been ready—they might have been able to take the Whale down with far less bloodshed.
You could always…
No.
Subaru clenched his jaw, shaking his head. The thought of resetting gnawed at him. If he went back too far, there was no guarantee he could change the outcome—or even reach this point again.
Guilt twisted in his gut.
How many people am I leaving to die? Is it fair to sacrifice the lives of those I could have saved—just to protect my sanity?
Am I even sane any more?
The more he dwelled on it, the worse the weight in his chest became.
Forcing himself back to the present, he turned his attention to the map Crusch had spread across the table. "How many soldiers can you spare for Arlam?" he asked.
"The wounded need to be taken back to the capital," Crusch sighed, exhaustion lining her features. "I can maybe offer an eighth of our original force. Even that is more than I'd like to part with."
"The Iron Fang only lost two members," Ricardo said. "We'll all be heading to Arlam."
Subaru frowned. "Not ideal. Our numbers are thin, and everyone is exhausted."
His own mana reserves were spent. In previous loops, he had been able to take down most of the Fingers himself—he knew where to find them—but in his current state, he doubted he could even manage one.
"When do you expect the Cult to attack?" Crusch asked, arms crossed.
"Late afternoon. Close to five o'clock," Subaru answered, tapping the map. "They're waiting for Puck to be removed from play. But they're scattered." He grabbed a quill and began marking locations in red ink. "Sloth can transfer his spirit between hosts—his 'Fingers,' as he calls them. Most of them are gathered here." He pointed. "The rest are here, here, and here."
Rom studied the map for a long moment before turning his sharp gaze on Subaru. "So, we need to kill all of these Fingers?"
"Yes," Subaru confirmed grimly. "But… there's another complication." He hesitated, then frowned. "I have a plan to deal with it, but I'll need someone strong by my side."
"I might be of assistance if it's strength you require."
A new voice cut through the discussion.
Subaru and the others turned to see a lilac-haired knight approaching. For a moment, Subaru didn't recognize him—but then it clicked. He had seen this man before, back at the palace, standing beside Anastasia.
Julius Juukulius. Her knight.
"Anastasia mentioned you might be joining us," Crusch said, her expression dark. "It would have been beneficial if you had been here for the battle."
"I was with the other half of the Iron Fang, blocking the road," Julius explained. "I hadn't imagined the devastation would be this severe."
"It wouldn't have mattered," Rom sighed. "The majority of the casualties happened the moment the Whale attacked. Julius couldn't have prevented that. Maybe we could have killed it sooner, but that wouldn't have brought the dead back."
Subaru nodded. Dwelling on the past was useless—for everyone save him that was.
How many will remain dead because of you?
Shut up.
"I have a question," Felt spoke up. "Subaru, how do you know where all these Fingers are? You never explained that."
Subaru tensed. "I can't say."
"Can't say or don't know?" Ricardo probed.
"Can't say," Subaru repeated firmly.
"Well, he believes he's unable to tell us," Crusch observed, eyeing him curiously. "Odd. Either way, the information is vital. I don't have time to interrogate Subaru right now. If we know where the Cultists are, eliminating them will be much simpler."
Subaru forced himself to relax, though he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. A glance confirmed it—Rom was studying him intently, his sharp gaze filled with quiet calculation.
It was as if the old man were piecing together a puzzle.
For my sake, I hope you figure it out…
Just not at the cost of your life.
"So, we go in and kill these cult guys? That's the plan?" Felt asked, arching an eyebrow. "Seems simple."
"We need to evacuate the villagers before we attack," Crusch said firmly. "We can use the spare carts that aren't being used for the wounded."
"We don't have enough," Subaru frowned. "Even with the ones already in town, it won't be enough to move everyone."
"There's a band of merchants camped at the fork in the road," Julius interjected. "We might be able to hire their wagons to help transport the villagers."
"Do it," Crusch ordered without hesitation.
"That still leaves the issue of those at the manor," Rom pointed out. "If we show up in force and start rounding up the villagers, it might not go over well."
"I can go to the manor and explain everything," Subaru offered, studying the map.
"It would be better if someone else went," Rom countered. "You're the only one who knows exactly where the Cultists are. You need to be here helping to coordinate the attack. Felt should go."
"Me?!" Felt shot back. "You and Subaru are the ones who stayed there—why are you sending me?"
"You're the most senior member who isn't needed for the battle," Rom explained. "I'll be with Crusch, organizing the attack. Subaru and Julius will be dealing with the Fingers."
"You're just trying to sideline me!" Felt snapped.
"It does make the most sense," Crusch pointed out.
Felt looked thoroughly put out but crossed her arms with a huff, grumbling under her breath.
Subaru suppressed a sigh. He wasn't sure how delicately she'd handle things with the maids and Emilia, but he had faith she'd manage. Besides, Carol would be with her—if Felt veered off track, the old woman would rein her in.
"Circling back," Subaru said, crossing his arms. "Some of those merchants are members of the Witch's Cult."
"What?" Julius blinked. "You're remarkably well-informed. A shame you're not telling us how you know all of this."
"I'd rather we not tread old ground," Crusch interjected bluntly. "He can't tell us. We can speculate on the how and why all we want, but it won't get us anywhere. The real question is—do you know which merchants?"
Subaru nodded. "One of them. A man named Ketty Muttart—he's one of Sloth's Fingers. As for the others, I don't know their exact identities. What I do know is that they have explosives. It would be best if we dealt with them before taking them to the village."
"That would be wise," Rom agreed. "So, we bring them here… but how do we identify the others?"
"Simple," Crusch said smoothly. "We line them up, and I'll question them one by one. If they refuse to answer or lie to me, they're Cultists."
"Easy enough," Subaru muttered, though his mind lingered on how useful—or dangerous—her Divine Protection was. If he ever needed to lie to Crusch, it would be impossible. Even avoiding an answer could be an admission in itself. In this case, it worked in his favor… but that might not always be the case.
"What do we do with the Cultists when we find them?" Felt asked.
"Kill them," Subaru said flatly.
Felt blinked, taken aback. "That's… a little dark," she muttered. "I mean, yeah, the Cult is bad and all, but outright executing them?"
"They're not to be reasoned with," Ricardo chimed in, his tone grim. "I have to agree with Subaru. These fanatics would kill small children without a second thought. Once they're exposed, they'll turn hostile."
It seemed the decision had been made. Felt still looked conflicted, but Subaru had zero sympathy for any member of the Cult. He had seen firsthand what they could do—what they would do.
"Very well," Crusch said. "Ricardo, I'll leave it to you to bring the merchants here. As for the rest of you, I advise you to rest while you can. We'll be moving out soon."
Subaru gave a small nod before walking off in search of a place to lay down.
He would need every ounce of strength for what was to come.
Julius sat atop Shaknar, his mount moving steadily as he rode alongside Subaru. It was early afternoon, and the forest around them was eerily quiet.
After the main column had split, he and Subaru had broken off toward their assigned target. Ricardo led another attack party, while Wilhelm and Ferris took the third.
Subaru had made it clear—their task was the most dangerous.
They were to confront the Sin Archbishop of Sloth himself.
The battle plan was simple. All three groups would attack their respective targets simultaneously. However, Subaru and Julius would be the last to act. According to Subaru, the Fingers would be far easier to kill if Sloth was still alive. The moment they killed the Archbishop, his spirit would possess one of his followers, essentially granting him another life.
The thought made Julius's skin crawl.
But the opportunity to eliminate one of the most dangerous figures within the Witch's Cult? That was a mission he had no reservations about.
Even so, he found himself questioning the young man riding beside him.
Subaru Natsuki was an enigma.
As far as Julius knew, he was a mere commoner. Not that he had anything against commoners—after all, he himself had once been one. But according to Anastasia, Subaru had managed to craft an enchanted weapon.
Ricardo had briefed him on the battle against the White Whale, and if the Captain of the Iron Fang was to be believed, Subaru had played an instrumental role in its defeat. So much so that Ricardo claimed he was second only to Wilhelm in the amount of damage inflicted—thanks in no small part to that mysterious enchanted sword.
"I got him to agree to make us two enchanted weapons. I can only imagine what someone like you could do with a blade like that," Anastasia had told him.
Julius observed Subaru. How had a complete unknown—someone who had appeared out of nowhere just before the Royal Selection—managed to become so capable, yet remained so obscure?
It was a mystery. One Julius fully intended to unravel… when the time was right.
A sudden chime from Subaru's pocket drew his attention.
Reaching down, Subaru opened a small golden locket—the glow of a Conversation Mirror shimmering in his palm.
"Nyaa~ I always enjoy using these things," Ferris's voice purred through the mirror. "We're all finished up here! I already spoke with the others, and they're all set, too."
"Any casualties?" Subaru asked immediately.
"Nyaa~ oh, nothing more than a few scratches," Ferris chuckled. "You two in position?"
"Yeah," Subaru muttered, exchanging a look with Julius. "We'll contact you when we've dealt with… Sloth." His jaw tightened around the word.
"Tah-tah~!" Ferris said before the mirror went dark.
Julius noted the tension in Subaru's posture, the way his fingers curled into fists.
"Nervous?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Subaru said bluntly. "Let's just get this over with. And don't forget what I told you about his Unseen Hands."
"Well, you are the expert," Julius replied dryly.
As they approached the clearing, both dismounted, moving cautiously. Ahead of them, carved into the cliffside, was an old, abandoned temple—its entrance worn by time, its presence ominous.
Julius narrowed his eyes, drawing his sword. Something about this place felt wrong.
Taking a steady breath, he called upon his contracted spirits. Ia was the first to answer his summons, followed quickly by Kua, Aro, Iku, In, and finally Nes. A familiar warmth filled him as their presence settled around him. It was always a pleasure to call upon his contracted friends.
He smirked. "Are you sure you don't want to use Nect?" he asked, resting a hand on his hip. "You need to conserve your strength to finish off the Archbishop."
Subaru frowned. "I don't like the idea of having someone else in my head."
Julius sighed. "It doesn't work like that. We share senses, not thoughts. Though, if I could poke around in that mind of yours, I'd be very interested. You are a bit of an enigma."
Subaru looked torn, muttering to himself before exhaling sharply. "You'd probably get yourself killed unless I burned the rest of my mana… which would completely screw up my plan."
He grimaced. "I was hoping to think of something better than Nect, but I guess it's our best option. Speaking of which—let's make this quick. Catch."
Before Julius could react, Subaru tossed something toward him.
He instinctively reached out, catching the hilt of a blade.
Julius blinked, looking down at the weapon. It thrummed in his grip, the energy within it pulsing in time with his mana.
"…You're giving me your blade?" he asked, surprised.
"Believe me, I'd love to be the one to blow that man away," Subaru muttered. "But I used up too much mana fighting the White Whale. If my plan is going to work, I need to save some energy. Leaving an enchanted weapon on the sidelines would just be stupid."
Julius gave the sword a test swing—only to feel a sharp pull on his mana. His stomach churned at the sensation.
"What the—?" He frowned. "It's draining my mana."
"Yeah, they do that," Subaru said with a shrug. "It's like casting spells—if you don't focus, it'll eat up more than you intend. Just use it to blow up the temple and take out the Fingers inside. From there, you just have to deal with Sloth." He paused. "Mind the hands."
Julius studied the weapon, rolling his wrist as he adjusted to its weight. "Tricky thing," he murmured. "Interesting that you could use it so effectively… I'd think it would take some practice, even for its creator."
Subaru snorted. "I've had practice with this sort of thing before. Besides, the tug-of-war is a hell of a lot harder when you're making the damn thing." He gave Julius a pointed look. "You're a magic user—you should know that."
"Spirit users are different," Julius corrected. "My contracted spirits do most of the heavy lifting. I'm just a conduit for their power. I imagine it's much different for someone who relies on their own mana."
Subaru gave a small nod before rolling his shoulders. "Enough idle chatter," he said. His expression hardened. "Let's get this over with."
Emerging from the underbrush, Subaru and Julius strode into the open.
Julius placed a hand on Subaru's shoulder, casting Nect. He closed his eyes for a brief moment as the spell took effect, allowing him to see through Subaru's vision. The sensation was always strange—the sudden shift in perspective left him slightly queasy, but the discomfort passed after a few moments.
"Don't wait—just blow the temple away," Subaru ordered.
"Very well."
Julius lifted his hand, calling upon Ia and Aro.
"Ul Gola!"
A spark ignited, and a heartbeat later, the temple's entrance erupted in flames. A firestorm consumed the cavern's mouth, the inferno roaring with such intensity that the flames licked around them. For a moment, Julius thought that if the Archbishop had been inside, he must have been reduced to cinders.
Then, barely half a second later—
A dozen oily black hands burst from the cave, lunging toward them.
Julius leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the first wave. He swung Subaru's blade in a flash as he sliced through several of the hands reaching for his legs.
A voice slithered through the smoke.
"Ohhh… you tried to burn us out, did you?"
A figure emerged from the inferno.
A man with sickly green skin and moss-like hair stepped forward, draped in the black robes of the Witch's Cult. His lips twisted into something between a sneer and a grin.
"You killed some of my Fingers," he mused, his tone both sing-song and mournful. "How terrible. How awful."
He raised two fingers to his mouth and bit down—hard—until blood spilled freely down his arm.
"How vile, how terrible, how rude, rude, rude!" His head twitched, jerking unnaturally. "Have you no decency? No honor? Are you just here to kill, kill, kill, kill?!"
Then, with a sudden, sickening smile, his eyes widened in something resembling ecstasy.
"I am here on a mission of love—and you do this?" He shuddered, his bloody fingers trembling with excitement. "How terrible, how naughty, how vile!"
The air around them twisted.
"You must not be so eager," he crooned, his voice dropping to a whisper before twisting into a delighted shriek. "Be slothful! Not wrathful! Please… DIE."
The oily hands shot forward, lunging for both of them—but Julius was already moving.
His sword carved through the air, severing the grasping appendages before they could reach him. The enchanted blade pulled at his mana, eager to unleash its magic, but for now, he needed only steel.
Sloth's eyes went wide. His entire body trembled, shaking so violently it seemed unnatural.
"You… you…" His voice pitched higher, a shrill cry of distress. His limbs twitched erratically as he pointed a shaking finger at Julius. "You can see the Unseen?!"
Julius remained silent, his stance steady.
Sloth convulsed, his mouth twisting as he wiggled in place, his movements erratic and unnatural. "Your eyes are closed, but you see?! No… NO!"
His trembling finger redirected.
He pointed at Subaru.
"Yeah, yeah, and your brain trembles," Subaru deadpanned. "Do me a favor and skip to the part where you drop dead already. Just looking at your ugly mug makes me wanna vomit."
Sloth froze.
His trembling intensified—before exploding into a raw, visceral scream.
"You… YOU DARE?" His voice cracked with fury.
With manic fervor, he ripped a black book from his robes, flipping through the pages at a frenzied pace. His eyes darted wildly over the text, his lips curling into a deranged grin.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! It's all here!" His voice quivered with unhinged excitement. "You WILL die! You WILL—"
He stopped.
His hands froze mid-turn, his breath catching in his throat. His entire body stiffened.
A beat of silence.
Then, slowly—his fingers started twitching. His mouth parted, his lips trembling as a whimper escaped.
"…This… this is not in my Gospel."
His chest heaved, his breath turning shallow and erratic.
"…This is… wrong, wrong, WRONG!" His voice broke as his body contorted.
His entire form snapped backward, bending so unnaturally far that it was as if his spine had been removed. His screams turned to agonized wails.
"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! You must be wrong! You must be false!" His breath came in frantic gasps, his eyes darting in all directions as if trying to rewrite reality itself. "My brain… it… it… it treeeeeeembles!"
And then—his eyes snapped back to them, filled with a renewed, unholy fury.
"You must DIE!" he shrieked, spittle flying from his lips. "I KNOW it! You must both DIE!"
At Sloth's command, the number of Unseen Hands doubled—tripled—shooting forward like vipers striking for the kill.
Julius didn't hesitate this time when Subaru's sword pulled at his mana.
Let's see how well his craftsmanship melds with my spirits.
"Al Clarista." His voice was calm, and composed.
The sword glowed, its metal shimmering in a myriad of colors as his contracted spirits poured their energy into it. The blade hissed and crackled, magic surging through its core. The enchantments within Subaru's craft twisted and amplified the spell, their combined force far greater than either alone.
Julius swung.
With a single slash, every black hand vanished in an instant.
Before Sloth could even react, Julius surged forward, closing the distance in the blink of an eye.
His next swing—
Turned everything in front of him to ash.
The Archbishop of Sloth was erased from existence.
The fight was over.
"Sever Nect!" Subaru's voice rang out.
Julius hesitated but did as the Forge Master ordered, breaking the connection between them.
The battlefield fell silent. Julius exhaled, taking a moment to scan the area, ensuring there were no more threats before turning back to his counterpart.
"I wasn't expecting your weapon to be so…" he trailed off as he turned—
And froze.
Subaru was on the ground.
Convulsing.
His eyes were wide, unblinking, his entire body writhing as though something unseen had taken hold of him.
"Subaru!" Julius rushed to his side, dropping to one knee.
Subaru's mouth moved, his voice a hollow, frantic whisper.
"Mine… mine… mine… mine… mine…"
Julius felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Then, with one final, ragged breath—
"No… mine."
Subaru's body went limp.
"Oh, it's perfect! It's my body now—such a perfect vessel!"
Petelgeuse's voice echoed through the abyss that was once Subaru Natsuki's mind, reverberating like a twisted hymn. He trembled with glee, his gaunt face stretching into a manic grin.
"With this body, I will find love, love, love, love, love!"
"I was expecting you, ya know."
Petelgeuse froze.
His bulging eyes darted toward the source of the voice—toward Subaru.
"What? You're still here?" The Archbishop's body stiffened, his expression twisting in confusion. Then, his voice pitched into a deranged screech. "How?! Why?! Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why?!"
"Because I've been here before. Fought this battle before." Subaru took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. "I lost before. But this time… I've got just enough juice left to kick your ass."
"Ohhh, I see," Petelgeuse muttered, his voice eerily flat—before his lips curled into a grotesque grin. His eyes bulged wider, bloodshot and wild. "You wish to struggle against me?! How very unslothful! How prideful of you! Foolish, sad, how silly, silly, silly!"
"The last time you were in my head, I noticed something…" Subaru's tone was calm, but his eyes burned with purpose. He lifted a finger—pointing directly at Petelgeuse's chest.
The Archbishop blinked. Slowly, he followed Subaru's gaze downward.
There, writhing just beneath his ribcage, was a pulsating mass of black, ghostly hands. They squirmed, tangled together in a sickening knot, their twisted fingers reaching and curling in endless, silent motion.
Petelgeuse's grin faltered.
"The boy…" he whispered. His voice trembled with something—not fear, but recognition.
Then his head snapped back, his spine bending at an unnatural angle until his skull cracked against the blackened floor of the mindscape.
"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!" His voice became a discordant shriek. "*You think you can take it?! Absurd! You are not Sloth! You are Pride! You are a fooooooool! Not loved like me! Not loved! No, no, no!"
He convulsed, his entire form trembling, wracked with a twisted sort of ecstasy.
Subaru took another step forward.
"You know…" His voice was quiet. Dangerous. "I bet if I crush that thing, you'll die. For good."
Die. Die at last.
Petelgeuse twitched. His mouth curled into something between a sneer and a smirk.
"You wish for me to die? Silly boy, silly! You must give me this body! You have no choice! You are not Sloth! You are nothing but a lowly vessel! A tool for her love! A tool to serve her! Forever and ever and ever and ever!"
Subaru just smiled. "I don't care."
Petelgeuse's expression twisted.
"So…" Subaru's smirk widened. "Shall we see who's stronger here?"
"Oh? Such pride… yes, yes! I think you are Pride! I know you are! Too bad!" Petelgeuse howled, his body twitching violently. "You must DIE!"
The Unseen Hands lunged for Subaru.
But he moved.
Rolling low, he dodged the first attack, then the second, closing the distance between them. More and more of the invisible appendages formed, writhing in the air like phantom limbs. They latched onto him, clawing, constricting—trying to crush him.
"You think these will stop me?" Subaru growled, pushing forward. The hands slowed him, but only just.
Petelgeuse's wild eyes twitched. "Wha—?! You should be—crushed! A ball of meat! HOW?!"
"This isn't a battle of magic," Subaru sneered, forcing himself another step closer. "Or power." Another step. "This is a battle of wills, you insane bastard."
His grin stretched, his voice dropping to an almost manic whisper. "And I really want you dead."
Petelgeuse stumbled back, his smirk faltering. His wild eyes flickered with something he had never felt before—fear.
"No, no! You can't! I won't let you!"
More Unseen Hands burst forth, lunging to crush Subaru, to wrap around him and twist him into a tangled, broken mess. But he kept moving, pushing through them as if they were nothing more than paper.
"S-Stay back!" Petelgeuse shrieked, his voice cracking. "You are not meant for it! It is mine, mine! A sign of her love! As holy as the Gospel! You can't take it from me!"
But the hands—his hands—shattered like brittle glass as Subaru barreled through them.
Petelgeuse stumbled again—only to find himself pressed against an invisible wall, trapped in the depths of Subaru's mind.
"It's over," Subaru growled.
With a furious shout, he tackled Petelgeuse to the ground.
The Sin Archbishop thrashed beneath him, screaming, his body writhing like a man possessed—but Subaru didn't care. He plunged his hand into the Archbishop's chest, fingers wrapping around the tangled mass of darkness that pulsed and twisted beneath his ribs.
"L-Let it go! No! You can't take it from me!" Petelgeuse howled, his screams growing frantic. "No, it is mine! A sign of my love! It is all that I am! Stop, stop, stop!"
Subaru wasn't listening.
He pulled.
Petelgeuse convulsed, his body weakening, his once-manic voice turning to broken, gasping pleas. His skeletal hands shot up, clawing at the mass of writhing darkness, desperate to wrench it back.
"No… I need it! Don't take my love! I… I need to be… need to be…" His voice grew faint, his limbs trembling. His once-wide, deranged eyes dulled.
"…Loved…"
With one final yank, Subaru ripped the writhing mass free.
Petelgeuse withered before him, his form shrinking, fading into nothingness.
But before Subaru could even take a breath—
The mass of darkness latched onto him.
That was the last thing Subaru remembered.
Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, he had caught a glimpse of a vague, shadowy figure—its form indistinct, shifting, watching.
And then, just before everything faded to black, he heard a voice.
"Where am I?"
A/N: Suprise Friday drop! Enjoy it, no reviews are being looked at until Sunday, which I still plan to post on!