At the prison office before Pride's "interrogation"
"Felix!" A red-headed knight's voice echoed.
"Oh! Reinhard," Felix responded, his voice strained.
"Felix, your eyes... you don't look well," Reinhard observed, a flicker of guilt and concern in his gaze. "Are you alright?"
"I... I'm fine," Felix insisted, though his tone betrayed his words.
Reinhard's frown deepened. "I see."
"So, what brings the brave Sword Saint to the prison office, nya?" Felix asked, attempting a lighter tone.
Reinhard's troubled expression prompted Felix further.
"Don't tell me you still vouch for that Witch Cultist to have a fair trial, nya?" Felix snapped, his composure cracking.
"With the help of my Blessing of Wind Reading, I can confirm he is, in fact, not lying about his feats of defeating the Mabeasts," Reinhard stated.
"A Witch Cult member killing his own associates, nya? That's hard to believe, nya," Felix exclaimed, shocked.
"Exactly. That's the part even I am unsure about," Reinhard admitted, his expression clouded with doubt.
"I wouldn't be surprised if those monsters used some disgusting magic to negate your divine blessing," Felix retorted, his voice laced with anger.
"Felix!" Reinhard's tone sharpened. "Do you have any proof to support your claims?"
Felix's expression hardened into a frown. "Don't tell me you see that monster as human, nya? Can't you see how many people have suffered? I saw them with my own eyes. They pleaded, they asked me to release them from their pain. I couldn't save them," Felix cried, his voice breaking.
He clutched his head, his knees buckling beneath him.
"I can still hear their voices in my head," Felix murmured, his mind replaying the horrific aftermath of that day.
"HELP ME!" A distant scream pierced the air.
Felix ran, his heart pounding.
"HELP ME! HELP ME!" Two more cries echoed from the distance.
"Where are you?" Felix shouted, desperate for a response.
Silence answered him.
Then, a flicker of fire caught his eye. He ran towards it, hoping to find survivors.
His eyes widened, his hand instinctively covering his nose. His demi-human senses assaulted him with the stench of burning flesh and blood. The foulness was overwhelming, and he retched, staining his knight's uniform.
"Help me!" A woman's cry reached him. She was trapped beneath the rubble of a collapsed building.
He rushed to her side. Her legs were crushed, and she wept.
"Don't worry, I will save you," Felix promised.
"No, please, I beg you, save my son," she pleaded, her voice choked with tears.
Her son lay unconscious, overcome by smoke and heat.
"DON'T WORRY," Felix insisted. "I'll call for reinforcements. More healers are stationed on the outskirts of the city."
"There's no time to save me. Please, just save my son. He is my hope. He is my everything. Please, please," she begged, her voice breaking.
"BUT!" Felix protested.
"JUST GO!" she screamed.
Felix tried to argue, but the woman cut him off with a desperate plea. He hesitated, reluctant to leave her, but slowly backed away.
The woman smiled, a flicker of gratitude amidst her pain. "THANK YOU," she whispered. "For saving my beloved son."
Then, the rubble shifted, collapsing entirely, burying her beneath.
Felix's mind snapped. He was consumed by a frenzy of guilt and despair. He had failed to save her.
He ran, a desperate attempt to salvage the life he had been entrusted with.
"SAVE ME!"
CRIES
BLOOD
"SAVE ME!"
As he ran, a cacophony of screams echoed through the ravaged city, each voice pleading for his help.
His mind entered a trance, a horrifying mantra repeating endlessly: "SAVE ME HELP ME SAVE ME HELP ME SAVE ME HELP ME..."
His grip on reality began to slip. His demi-human ears amplified the cries of pain, turning them into a deafening death choir.
Healers arrived, rushing to rescue the remaining survivors. Seeing them, Felix broke out of his trance, tightening his grip on the boy. He fled, carrying the child to safety.
Reaching the healers' camp, he shouted, his voice thick with tears, "We need more healers here! It's an emergency!"
More healers joined him, working desperately to save the boy.
"Someone, we need a healer!"
As more injured civilians arrived, the healers were overwhelmed. They managed to stabilize the boy, but the prognosis was grim.
"He's stabilized for now," a healer said, his voice grave. "But I can't guarantee a healthy life. The amount of smoke he inhaled... it's impossible to know the full extent of the damage."
"If I use all of my mana, I still have a chance to save this kid!" Felix declared, his voice filled with desperate hope.
"NO! You can't," another healer countered. "You're the greatest healer, and there are more people we need to save."
"But!" Felix cried out, his voice cracking.
"There is no 'but'," the healer insisted. "We either cater to a single person and lose thousands of others, or we treat them equally."
"Felix-sama, it's not your fault," another healer pleaded. "You may be the greatest healer, but you're still one person."
Hearing their desperate pleas, Felix understood the harsh reality. There was no room for argument.
He quickly finished patching up the boy and moved on to other injured civilians. The number of those in need continued to rise, a relentless tide of suffering.
"Felix!"
"FELIX!"
"Are you okay?"
"Answer me!" Reinhard's voice, sharp and urgent, snapped Felix out of his reverie.
"Ah, sorry, nya," Felix mumbled, his brow slick with sweat. "I just need some rest."
"So, what are you really here for?" Felix asked, trying to steer the conversation away from his distress.
"I just wanted to check up on you," Reinhard replied. "Considering Julius's situation..."
Felix's frown deepened. "...and considering Crusch-sama's condition."
Felix's fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms, almost drawing blood. Reinhard noticed, and he wisely refrained from mentioning any further casualties.
"There's no way they'll get away that easily," Felix declared, his voice tight with anger.
"Yes," Reinhard affirmed.
Felix, surprised, looked up at Reinhardt.
"Reports have come in that Gluttony has been located, fleeing towards the Augria Sand Dunes," Reinhard revealed.
Felix's eyes widened. "You mean the Pleiades Watchtower? Isn't that where Emilia-sama's camp is headed?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
"Yes, and that is exactly why I am leaving tonight," Reinhard confirmed.
"I will come as well!" Felix declared, his voice firm.
"No, the people here still need you, especially..." Reinhard paused, his words trailing off.
"I know Crusch-sama needs daily checkups," Felix finished, his frown deepening. He understood what Reinhard was hesitant to say.
"Then it's decided," Reinhard said, turning to leave.
"REINHARD!" Felix called out. "Please be safe."
"You can trust in me, Felix," Reinhard assured him, a reassuring smile gracing his lips.
It wasn't that Felix didn't trust Reinhard's abilities. But deep down, he was still haunted by the loss of Julius's memories. He felt helpless, unable to aid either Crusch or his friend. The thought of losing another friend to this conflict was unbearable, a weight that threatened to drown him in his already overflowing guilt.
Felix watched Reinhard's back as he disappeared into the dark hallway of the prison, a silent prayer escaping his lips.
Pride perched in the shadows of the ceiling, his mind a labyrinth of churning thoughts. Suddenly, the guards' voices, usually a monotonous drone, rose in panicked urgency.
He noted their unusual behavior. The guards, whose patrols were a predictable, rhythmic cycle, were now gripped by fear.
"Don't you think it's better to just flee?" one guard whispered.
"Where would we even flee to?" another retorted, his voice laced with dread.
"Argh! Such a pain," one guard muttered. "Those bastards of the Witch Cu—"
His companion abruptly silenced him, clamping a hand over his mouth. "We don't know who's listening. Don't tempt fate."
A tense silence descended.
Pride found himself unable to rest.
SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH
He obsessively scratched at his wrists, a compulsive habit he couldn't break. He relished the slow erosion of his sanity, a twisted form of self-torture. Felix would heal his wounds, only to inflict them anew, adding to his collection of tortures.
Suddenly, two new voices broke the tense silence.
"Huh!" one exclaimed, a note of surprise in their voice.
"Weren't they supposed to change earlier?" the other asked, their tone laced with suspicion.
An unsettling delay stretched between the guards' shifts, an unnatural pause in the prison's routine. He observed, his senses sharpened.
For the past three days, he had done nothing but observe. He meticulously noted every minute detail, every subtle shift in the prison's atmosphere.
On the 4th day
Pride lay still, almost unnervingly so, within the confines of his cell.
A warm, flickering light illuminated the prison hall. "It's time... for your meal," a guard announced, his voice trembling with fear. He stepped cautiously into the cell, his hand instinctively covering his nose against the overwhelming stench of blood, burned flesh, and sweat.
Thud*
The guard recoiled, panic seizing him. He frantically swept the cell with his flame torch, searching for the source of the sound, but found nothing.
"Huh! Is he dead?" the guard muttered, his fear warring with a morbid curiosity. He cautiously approached Pride's motionless form, remembering the man's reputation as a formidable Archbishop.
Thud*
The guard spun around, his back now facing Pride's still figure. "What...? What was that... sound, just now?" he stammered, his voice laced with terror.
He began to panic, the oppressive silence of the cell broken only by the growing sound of heavy, labored breathing.
And then, he heard it.
Drip*
Drip*
He whirled around, his eyes wide with terror, to face Pride.
But Pride's body had vanished.
At the Pleiades Watchtower.
"Beako!"
"You seem troubled. Is everything alright?" The silver-haired half-elf asked her presumed contracted spirit.
"Betty is perfectly fine, I suppose," Beatrice replied, her tone slightly defensive. "Also, stop with that nickname, I suppose. The only person who can call me that is my beloved contractor!"
She paused, her words echoing in her mind. Something felt amiss, a crucial detail slipping through her grasp. A feeling she hadn't experienced since the day she was freed from the library.
In a sudden rush, memories flooded her mind: the burning library, the manor engulfed in flames. A doll-like spirit with drill hair, clutching a book, sat in solemn silence. A raven-haired boy, his body marked by burns and bruises, stood at the library door.
"No one can blame you for clinging to the idea of 'that person,'" he said, his voice gentle.
His face... she couldn't quite recall his face.
The memories continued to unfold. "Y...you have rejected Betty's feelings."
"Just what do you even know?!" Beatrice retorted, her voice filled with rage.
"I know!" the boy replied. "I know you are kind."
"Beatrice," he said, slowly approaching her. "Please save me!"
"Bea..."
"...ako."
"Beako!"
Emilia called out, cradling Beatrice in her lap like a doll. "Beako, are you alright? It's alright if you need rest."
"Ram!" Emilia turned her attention to her other companion. "How long until we reach the tower?" she asked, seeking to formulate a plan.
"Judging by our current pace, it will still take us approximately one more day, Emilia-sama," Ram replied.
"Otto-san, can you and Ram scout the area?" Emilia requested. "It's better for us to not exhaust ourselves too much," she added, her tone laced with concern.
"HAH HA!"
"NO NEEDCHA WORRY WID MA AMAZIN SELF PRESEN!"
"I WILL BEAT DOWN ANY SUSPICIOUS PERSON LINGERING AROUND PRINCESS!" the blonde tiger boy boasted, puffing out his chest.
"Ram will scout the area over there," Emilia directed. "Otto-san, please go ahead and be the bait for the mabeasts."
The pink-haired maid couldn't resist teasing the merchant.
"Why is it always me?" Otto sighed, a hint of resignation in his voice.
Deep in a Augria Sand Dunes
The red-headed knight, Reinhard, utilized his divine blessing to scan the treacherous sandstorm, searching for Gluttony.
Squish*
Three knives, launched from an unseen assailant, flew towards him.
Blood splattered across the dry sand as Reinhard fell, lifeless.
"HAH HA!" a voice echoed through the storm. "You need to calm down, my dude."
An aura, thick with miasma, enveloped a figure. Long brown hair obscured half his face.
"I feel happy, you feel happy, and that's all the reason you need to eat and drink in excess!" the boy declared.
A fist flew towards him, but he deftly evaded it.
"Apologies, but I would ask you to surrender," a voice declared, rising from the flames like a phoenix.
Reinhard, empowered by his Divine Protection of the Phoenix, stood once more, facing the "Sin Archbishop of Gluttony."
Rienhard tricked death.
On the 4th day in prison
Pride's motionless body vanished.
"Sound the guards!" the guard screamed, fleeing the cell.
A shadow shifted across the prison cell ceiling.
Pride dropped to the floor, landing with a soft thud. He groaned, clutching his stomach. "I feel disgusting," he muttered, still struggling to master his sloth authority.
He crawled through the darkness of the prison hallway, using his Invisible Providence to drag his weakened body towards the exit. He slipped through the front door, hiding amongst the bushes to catch his breath, and promptly vomited.
He was far from proficient in using the authority he had inherited from Petelgeuse. He lay on his back, gazing at the full moon. "The moon really is magnificent," he murmured, the cold wind ruffling his white hair.
The prison guards were in complete disarray. Their priority shifted to sealing the capital's gates. Panic spread through the prison as news of Pride's escape reached every corner.
The Council of Wise Men was urgently summoned to the cabinet.
"What do you mean he escaped?" a hoarse voice demanded.
"This is serious. Alarm every knight available to search for him," a council member ordered, slamming his fist on the desk.
"But, Miklotov-sama..." a guard began.
"I don't care how! He needs to be apprehended now!" Miklotov interrupted.
Every guard and knight in Lugunica was mobilized as the news of Pride's escape spread. Word of mouth spread the news, and panic gripped the populace.
The panic spiraled, overwhelming the guards who were woefully unprepared. Compounding the chaos, the public had no clear image of Pride's appearance.
Civilians reacted in a variety of ways.
Many questioned how the Royal Guard, those supposedly mighty knights who prided themselves on honor and duty, could allow such a catastrophic failure.
Some openly blamed the guards for their incompetence.
Others seized the opportunity to fuel their existing resentment, using the incident as a rallying cry against the royal family.
Fear gripped the city. Some citizens barricaded themselves in their homes, while others, driven by terror, packed their belongings, ready to flee.
The protesters, fueled by anger and fear, added to the chaos. They blocked roads, creating bottlenecks and significantly hindering the guards' efforts to move through the city.
In a nearby alleyway
Pride, half-walking, half-crawling, and trembling, kept himself hidden, using the swirling chaos of the capital as a cloak.
"Oi! He was seen coming over here! Look out!" a man's voice rang out.
"Shit!"
"We need to move, hide!"
"Raksha, Plum, you guys hide in the basement," a man with dark green hair and a prominent claw scar on his face instructed his wife and daughter.
"But dear!"
"What about you?" a woman with purple hair and brown eyes replied, her voice filled with worry.
"Someone needs to protect the store and the house," he replied. "I'll get something to reinforce the doors and windows," he added, rushing towards his appa stand.
As he approached his stand, he noticed a figure cloaked in shadows, hiding behind it. He cautiously moved closer, adopting a fighting stance.
As he drew nearer, he could clearly see the figure's face.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am... umm..." Pride hesitated, unsure of how to answer.
"You're injured!" the green-haired man interrupted, noticing Pride's grave wounds. "Come with me. This place isn't safe. The thugs are using the chaos as an opportunity to mug people," he offered.
Pride was wary, but he had little choice. He needed to heal before he could continue.
"Before that!" Kadomon began, Pride poised to flee if Kadomon showed any sign of suspicion. In his weakened state, he couldn't afford unnecessary conflicts.
"What's your name?" Kadomon asked.
"My name is ummm..." Pride hesitated. "My name is Amagiri. Amagiri Ayato," he finally said, testing the lie.
He quickly borrowed the alias of the protagonist from his favorite anime, a show he had cherished in his previous world.
Kadomon's face broke into a smile. "Nice to meet ya. My name is Kadomon. Kadomon Risch," he replied.
Pride chuckled inwardly, recalling the man who had inadvertently become his first save point in this world. The same man who had helped him locate the loot house and indirectly aided in gaining Emilia's trust. But even with the familiarity, Pride's trust was slow to return.
They walked back to Kadomon's house. Kadomon entered first, reassuring his wife and daughter.
"Papa!" Plum cried, running towards her father, her small body trembling.
"There, there," Kadomon soothed, patting her head.
"Dear!" Raksha asked, her voice filled with worry. "We were so worried about you."
"Well, I'm fine, but..." He paused, gesturing for Pride to enter.
Pride stepped into the house.
Raksha looked past her husband, her face etched with worry.
Her expression shifted to horror and concern. "Dear, who would this be...?" she asked.
"Well, that's for later," Kadomon interjected. "He needs immediate medical attention! Would you please help him?"
Despite her apprehension, Raksha agreed, her heart going out to Pride's injured state. She welcomed him and quickly began preparing bandages and herbal remedies.
Plum watched with wide eyes as Raksha tended to Pride's wounds. He groaned as the bandages tightened over his burns and cuts.
Felix had already healed any life-threatening injuries, including internal organ damage and broken bones, preventing Pride from succumbing to internal bleeding.
Even though Felix had healed his life-threatening injuries, Pride still endured the torment of phantom pain.
For Pride, time had become a distorted, stagnant entity. The sheer number of times he had relived the same save point had blurred the lines between reality and repetition. A change in scenery, a break from the endless loop, felt like a brief respite from the hellish torture he had endured.
The literal torture had lasted for three months. But for him, trapped in the endless cycle, time had stretched into an immeasurable, unknowable expanse. He had lost all sense of chronology. His only marker was the slow drip of blood from his self-inflicted wounds, a morbid countdown to oblivion.
"Alright!" Raksha announced, her voice gentle. "We're finished here. If you feel any discomfort, please let me know."
"I am very grateful for your hospitality," Pride replied, his voice sincere.
"I'll prepare dinner," Raksha said. "Plum, please show our guest to the guest room."
Pride settled onto the bed, its warmth and softness a stark contrast to the hard floor he had grown accustomed to. The plushness felt alien, almost unsettling.
A knock sounded at the door. "It's Kadomon. Are you alright in there?" he asked.
"Please come in," Pride replied, quickly rising from the floor to avoid suspicion.
"So, ummm..." Kadomon began. "Thank you for your hospitality," Pride interrupted. "But I have to ask... is it wise to take in a stranger during this chaos?"
He was genuinely perplexed by Kadomon's trust.
"Well, I have my worries," Kadomon admitted. "But!" He paused, prompting Pride to listen.
"A half-elf once helped my daughter when she was lost. To Plum, she was a stranger, someone she didn't know," Kadomon explained. "But she still helped her. I've been grateful to her ever since."
"I had my prejudices," he continued, a hint of shame in his voice. "I judged her based on her appearance alone. But she proved that looks can be deceiving, that you should never judge a book by its cover."
Pride was startled to hear a familiar idiom from his old world in this isekai setting.
Kadomon's expression turned slightly guilty, but he quickly brushed it aside. Then, with a bright smile, he added, "I love my family above all else."
Pride looked at him, a flicker of surprise and something akin to longing crossing his face. As he watched the happy family, tears welled up in his eyes.
"Oi! Are you alright, kid?" Kadomon asked, concern etched on his features.
Pride's mind drifted to his own parents, wondering how they must have felt when he had retreated into his room, isolating himself. He felt a surge of gratitude for their unwavering patience.
"I love, love, love my family as well," Pride thought, his tears flowing freely as Kadomon watched him with pity.
"I will make sure to follow up with the other kids in school," he vowed silently. "I will show them that I am the son of Natsuki Kenichi. I will prove to you that your son, Natsuki Subaru, won't give in so easily. MOM! DAD!"
Pride's thoughts were filled with the image of his loving parents, even though he knew he would never see them again. A determined look settled on his tear-streaked face.
Deep in Augria Sand Dunes
Reinhard, empowered by his Divine Protection of the Phoenix, defied death once more.
"Ah, such a beauty! Such an amazing presentation!" Gluttony exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Makes my mouth water."
"Oh! Apologies, I let my taste buds speak on my behalf," he added, leaping towards Reinhard.
Reinhard gripped his Dragon Sword, still sheathed. He attempted to draw it, but it remained stubbornly locked in its scabbard. "Not worthy," he breathed, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
He unbuckled the sheathed sword, using it to block Gluttony's relentless attacks.
"Marvelous to hold out this long, and be this desperate," Gluttony taunted. "My dude, you truly are a real glutton."
Reinhard ignored the taunts, leaping back to create distance.
"Such a heartless individual you are!" Gluttony declared. "I am the Witch Cult's Sin Archbishop representing Gluttony. Lye Batenkaitos."
"Now you," Gluttony continued, his voice dripping with malice. "You there, you hungry individual. I can smell the anger on you, the hatred, the rage, emotions so thick they practically vibrate. Ah, this is going to be such a feast."
He reveled in his own words, trying to goad Reinhard into revealing his true feelings.
Reinhard, fully aware of Gluttony's manipulative tactics, paid no heed to the taunts. However, he was somewhat surprised by the accuracy of Gluttony's assessment.
The thought lingered in Reinhard's mind: Did he truly display such raw, human emotions? He had always strived for composure, for unwavering control. The idea that Gluttony, a being of pure chaotic appetite, could so easily perceive his inner turmoil was unsettling.
A flicker of something akin to happiness stirred within him, a sensation almost foreign. Throughout his childhood, he had been branded a monster, an anomaly incapable of understanding or expressing human emotion. He was seen as a weapon, a perfect tool for war.
He had placed himself on an impossible pedestal, blaming himself for every tragedy that could have been averted had he been present. Even with Od's blessing, even as a living grimoire of divine protections, he felt powerless, capable only of bringing grief to those he loved.
The sandstorm intensified, the wind howling with renewed fury.
Reinhard gripped his sheathed Dragon Sword tightly, crouching low to brace himself against the tempest.
Sniff* *Sniff*
"Marvelous!" Gluttony exclaimed, his face contorted in a grotesque expression of pleasure, gratitude, and reverence. "Ah, such an honor! Our goddess... oh, what a magnificent blessing this must be for her devotee!"
His body began to convulse, a disturbing display of ecstatic fervor. The miasma in the air thickened, growing denser and more oppressive, until it nearly obscured both figures.
At the Pleiades Watchtower.
The Emilia camp resumed their journey, the towering silhouette of the Watchtower drawing closer.
"We'll be reaching the entrance soon," Otto announced to the group.
"Emilia-sama, are you alright?" Ram asked, noticing the worried expression on Emilia's face.
Emilia, snapping out of her thoughts, forced a smile. "Yes, I'm fine."
"Are you worried about the dangers we might face?" Ram inquired further.
"Mm-hm, no," Emilia replied. "It's about the Sage. I'm worried about how he'll perceive our visit."
"If the legends of the great Sage Flugel are true," Ram said, a small smile gracing her lips, "then I'm certain we'll be able to reason with him and receive his assistance."
"I will do my best," Emilia replied, offering Ram a reassuring smile.
Suddenly, the dragon carriage lurched to a halt. Patrasche and Gyan growled, their attention fixed on the distance. The sandstorm raged, its fury escalating.
Otto struggled to keep the ground dragons calm. "We're surrounded!" he shouted to the others.
Ram and Emilia peered through the carriage window, their eyes widening at the sight of a horde of mabeasts encircling them.
"DON' WORRY, PRINCESS!" Garfiel roared, leaping from the carriage and tearing into the mabeasts with his powerful fists. "MA' AMAZIN' SELF WILL TAKE CARE OF THING'S HERE! OTTO, TAKE CARE' OF PRINCESS!" he yelled, signaling Otto to move to a safer location.
However, the mabeasts continued to multiply, their numbers seemingly endless.
"Filthy, I suppose!" Beatrice declared from her seat, her voice laced with disgust. "The air is getting damp, and the miasma levels are increasing," she added.
Ram's eyes widened. "The Witch Cultists are here!" she exclaimed, confirming Beatrice's suspicions.
Garfiel continued his relentless assault, his tiger-like fists pulverizing the mabeasts. Emilia, worried for Garfiel's safety, sprang into action.
"Emilia-sama!" Otto and Ram called out, following her.
"Don't worry, I'll be alright," Emilia reassured them.
Suddenly, the temperature plummeted. Just as the mabeasts were about to pounce on the carriage, they froze in midair, shattering into pieces as they hit the ground.
Ram, her mana reserves depleted due to her broken horn, could only offer limited support with her wind magic.
A mabeast lunged at Emilia from behind. Ram, noticing the danger, tried to use her magic, but her exhaustion prevented her. She screamed in horror.
"El Minya!"
Huge Minya crystals erupted from the ground, impaling the mabeasts surrounding Emilia.
Ram, regaining her composure, looked at Beatrice with a grateful expression.
"My contractor is such a bother sometimes, I suppose," Beatrice muttered, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
"HELL SNIPE"
STAB*
STAB* *STAB*
STAB* *STAB*
Huge needles, moving at incredible speed, hurtled towards them. Otto, with the help of Patrasche and Gyan, managed to maneuver the carriage, narrowly avoiding the deadly projectiles.
The needles also struck the mabeasts, clearing out a significant portion of their horde. It was as if the attacker viewed both the mabeasts and the Emilia camp as equal threats.
Ram, realizing the gravity of the situation, signaled Emilia and Garfiel to take cover. The heavy sandstorm made it impossible to pinpoint the enemy's location. The oppressive miasma, thick and choking, made it difficult to breathe.
Emilia and Garfiel retreated to the carriage, while Otto, gasping for air, struggled to navigate through the dense miasma.
The entire Emilia camp fell back, seeking refuge from the unseen assailant and the suffocating atmosphere.
Emilia, her mind reeling, wondered why everything had suddenly become so difficult. It felt as if the world itself was conspiring against her, determined to thwart her every plan. A dark thought crept into her mind: Am I cursed by Od itself?
Deep in Augria Sand Dunes
The miasma thickened, becoming almost suffocating.
Reinhard covered his mouth and nose, the air thick with the acrid stench of burnt hair and blood. He sensed a presence, something beyond his comprehension, something terrifyingly grotesque.
A wave of bloodlust washed over him, the murderous intent so intense that it made him tremble. He shook off the sensation, scanning the surroundings for the source of this deadly aura.
"HAHA...HA!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!"
"Bow to the return of the age of the Witch!" Gluttony screamed, his voice filled with ecstatic madness, saliva dripping from his mouth.
"The Witch!" he continued, his eyes wide with fervor. "Our goddess has blessed me with her presence! How magnificent!"
"This is such an honor! I am sure the rest will envy me!"