The Next Queen is the Witch of Glaciation

by SiriuSssIsNotFortuna

What if the Vainglory Factor latched onto Emilia when Pandora tried to erase her memories during the Elior Forest Permafrost? In this AU, Emilia has developed an Authority that helped her retain all her memories at the beginning of the story. How will she evolve as a character? One thing's for sure: her path to becoming Queen of Lugunica will be far more arduous than ever.

23. EXTRA 3

EXTRA 2

The First Circle of the Abyss called Magic

It was the fourth day of the final loop at Roswaal Manor.

Subaru sat cross-legged on the grass, staring at the floating cat spirit in front of him with eager anticipation. Emilia sat beside him, smiling softly, amused by his enthusiasm. And Puck stretched lazily mid-air before resting atop Emilia's shoulder, his fluffy tail twitching.

"Please! Teach me magic, Master Puck!" Subaru declared, striking a dramatic begging pose with a confident smirk.

Puck let out a soft chuckle. "Master, huh? That's a new one. But sure, I don't mind giving you a little lesson."

"You've been really curious about magic lately, Subaru," Emilia innocently pointed out.

"Well, duh! If I'm gonna survive in a world full of assassin ladies, deadly maids and scary packs of beasts, I need every advantage I can get. And what's a cooler power-up than magic?" Subaru crossed his arms, nodding sagely.

At that, Emilia's smile wavered. Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of her dress, and a shadow passed over her expression.

Subaru blinked. Ah, crap. He knew that look.

It wasn't just a joke to her. She was thinking about it seriously—about the times she hadn't been able to protect him. The loops in the capital, when Elsa had cut him down before her eyes. The loops in the mansion, where he had been cursed, attacked, or worse.

Subaru made light of it, but to Emilia, those moments were painful reminders of her failures.

She lowered her gaze slightly, her hands tightening on her lap. Even if he was making light of it… the fact remained that Subaru had suffered so much under her watch. If she had been stronger, more capable—

Before the self-recrimination could take root, Subaru clapped his hands together.

"Though, to be fair," he said with a grin, "I do have a ridiculously beautiful and strong acquaintance, so maybe I don't need magic after all."

Emilia blinked, looking up at him. "…Huh?"

"I mean, I got someone who literally tore apart a professional assassin with her magic." He gave her a teasing smirk. "Pretty overpowered, don't you think?"

Her violet eyes widened slightly. He was talking about her.

A quiet warmth spread in her chest. Even though she had been thinking of all the ways she had failed, Subaru still saw her as someone strong—someone who had protected him.

"…I—I wasn't that impressive," she muttered, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear.

"Pfft, please. You were epic. If anything, you're the reason I'm standing here asking for magic lessons in the first place." Subaru folded his arms. "I want to be cool like you too! Can you teach me your incredible ice magic? Please~"

Her lingering guilt eased, replaced by fond exasperation. He always does this. Whenever she fell into self-doubt, he pulled her right back up without making a big deal out of it.

Puck lazily twirled in the air. "Magic is pretty handy, but it's not just about looking cool… Alright…" he stopped twirling, and dramatically folded his arms.

"Listen here, Subaru-kun!" Puck's voice was laced with mock seriousness.

"Yes, Master!" Subaru answered in the same tone, making Emilia giggle.

"Mana flows through a person's gate, which acts as an internal valve that regulates mana. A mage uses their own gate to cast spells. However, a spirit user—like Lia here," He gracefully landed back on Emilia's shoulder, "can form a contract with a spirit, in our case, Yours truly. The spirit serves as an external gate, casting spells on their behalf."

Subaru nodded along. "So, a mage is like a guy who brings his own lunch to work, while a spirit user is the guy who mooches off his co-worker's bento?"

Puck blinked. "Hm? What's a 'bento'?"

Emilia's eyes sparkled, eager to showcase her otherworldly knowledge she got from Subaru. She explained with childish pride, "Oh! I know this one, Puck!"

"A 'bento' is a little wooden box where you put food in small, separate sections! There's a part for rice, a part for meat, and maybe some vegetables too! And you pack it up reeeaally nicely, so when you open it, it looks suuuper cute!" She gestured animatedly with her hands, clearly proud of her knowledge.

Subaru winked at her. "Wow, Emilia-tan, you actually nailed it."

Emilia beamed, clearly pleased with herself. "Ehehe, I remembered!"

Puck gave an amused smile. "Well, that's… one way to put it."

He spun in the air, continuing, "Anyway, magic works in a similar way. Mages rely on their own reserves, while spirit users let spirits act as their magical channels."

Subaru's excitement only grew. "So, I could go either way, huh… Which one's better?"

"Depends on the person," Puck replied. "Though, let's check your affinities before getting ahead of ourselves. That'll help us see what magic suits you best."

"Affinities?" Subaru asked, tilting his head.

"Now, every mage has an affinity toward one of the four primary elements, Wind, Fire, Earth, or Water." Puck replied. "Some rarer elements exist too—"

"Aw yeah, let's go!" Subaru clapped his hands together, already fantasizing about his future powers. "C'mon, give me something cool. Do I have what it takes to make some fire release techniques? Or maybe, wind? I could slice everything on sight like Ram!" His eyes gleamed with excitement.

"No, actually—earth! A super tanky, immovable wall! Imagine me summoning rock walls to defend Emilia-tan! No–no! Wait! I'll take water! Water! That way I'll be just like Emilia-tan! Shooting ice bullets! Or maybe making it rain or command?"

Emilia smiled, watching Subaru's enthusiasm with a fond expression. "Maybe you should let Puck check before planning out your whole magic career, Subaru."

"Well let's find out!" Puck hovered closer to Subaru, tending his tail on his forehead. "Hold still. Myon myon~~"

"Whoa! That's totally a magic sound effect!" Subaru mumbled with a wide smile.

After only a second, Puck retreated. "Okay! I got it. Your affinity."

"Yes!" Subaru grinned, ready to hear about his destined incredible power. "So, what is it? Something legendary? Do I have all four elements? Or some secret forbidden magic?"

Puck chuckled. "Yin magic."

Subaru's enthusiasm deflated instantly. "...Wait, what? All rejected?! What's Yin magic?"

"In addition to Fire, Water, Wind and Earth, the four basic attributes, there are Yin and Yang," Puck explained.

Subaru asked, eyes glinting with hope, "I see! Is it actually some amazing ability? So amazing it's not even considered as basic?!"

"With Yin magic, you can obstruct an opponent's vision, block sounds…and slow movements, and things like that." Emilia answered, hand on the chin.

"Only debuffs?" Subaru's face fell at the thought. "Eh? That's it? No fireballs? No rock-shattering punches?"

Puck gave an amused smile. "It can be quite powerful in the right hands."

Subaru groaned, hanging his head. "So I get stuck with an element that mostly just weakens people? My magic is just a collection of annoying status effects, huh… Man, I was really hoping for something cooler…"

Emilia gave him a sympathetic look. "It's not so bad! It's simply quite a unique element."

"'Unique' is a polite way of saying 'lame', Emilia-tan," Subaru mumbled.

Seeing the light fade from Subaru's eyes, Emilia immediately panicked. "W-Wait! It's not a bad element at all!" she hurriedly reassured him, leaning forward slightly. "Yin magic has lots of useful applications! It's really versatile!"

Subaru barely reacted. He just sighed dramatically, drooping even further. "Yeah, yeah. 'Versatile.' Like how a soggy sandwich is technically still edible."

Emilia's ears drooped. That was not the reaction she was hoping for. Desperate to cheer him up, she fidgeted, scrambling for something to say.

"W-Well… actually! I used Yin magic to beat Elsa in the capital," she added quickly, hoping that would spark his interest.

And it did; Subaru perked up, blinking at her in surprise. "Really?!"

Emilia beamed, nodding enthusiastically. "Yes! During our fight, I managed to blind Elsa for just a moment thanks to a Yin spell. That gave me an opening to catch her off guard."

Subaru stared at her, processing this, before his lips curled into an impressed grin. "Wait… so you're a Yin user too? That's Emilia-tan for you! You get beauty, power and now you're out here collecting elements too? Are you secretly the protagonist?"

He was deeply proud of Emilia. And, also, thrilled—like he had just found out they were both part of an exclusive, ultra-cool secret club. She chuckled softly at his enthusiasm.

"Aah~ I have the same element as Emilia-tan…" he whispered, his cheeks flushing crimson at the idea.

"No, no, I only have one element. Fire," she explained. "It's actually Puck who has multiple elements. He can use Yin too."

Subaru's flustered expression instantly flattened. His voice lost all excitement. "Heh… that's Puck for you… Impressive."

Puck, floating nearby, gasped in exaggerated offense. "Excuse me? That was the most lifeless compliment I've ever heard, I swear!" He swished his tail dramatically. "Just a minute ago, you looked like you were about to throw a party for Lia having two elements. But me? I get that?"

Subaru, arms crossed, shrugged. "Well, yeah. It's you. At this point, it's just expected that you can do everything."

"Unbelievable!" Puck sighed, shaking his head. "My talents are wasted on you, I tell you."

Subaru smirked. "You'll live."

Emilia giggled at their banter, her previous nervousness fading. At least he wasn't pouting anymore.

"But wait, you use ice all the time! Shouldn't you be 'Water'?" Subaru blinked.

Emilia shook her head. "It's a common mistake. See, Fire magic actually governs temperature control, not just flames. Water, on the other hand, is linked to life and healing. Even so, the Huma spell is shared between the Fire and Water attributes, which can lead people to mistakenly think that I'm a Water mage."

Subaru rubbed his chin, squinting. "Okay, I think I get it…" He remembered bad and good moments of Rem using ice magic and healing magic. "She's a Water type then… Funny how it suits her, with her blue hair and eyes…"

Subaru folded his arms, nodding slowly. "That's actually kinda cool. I was expecting something more standard, as it's clearly an elemental-based system, but there's some originality to it."

Emilia beamed, pleased that he found it interesting, even though she wasn't fully understanding his words.

Puck hummed in thought. "I could teach you a simple Yin spell. Nothing too fancy, but it'd be a good start."

Subaru immediately perked up. "Really? Yes! Let's do it! Hit me with the magic training montage!"

But just as Puck was about to proceed, he hesitated. His expression turned thoughtful, his ears twitching as he reconsidered.

Beatrice's words about Subaru's weak gate echoed in his mind. Puck, while checking on his affinities, also confirmed the state of his gate—barely developed.

In another situation, maybe he would have let Subaru push himself, even if it meant overexertion. No, he'd have definitely done that. But not now. Not when he was finding him useful for his Lia.

As he pondered this, he felt a presence—Beatrice, looking at them from somewhere in the manor. Puck didn't need to turn to confirm it; he could feel the gaze of her fellow Great Spirit and sister, silent yet piercing.

She was watching them.

Logically speaking, Puck could simply train Subaru in Spirit Arts himself. The boy has a very noticeable talent in the field, maybe as much as Lia, if not more.

He's loved by spirits, and, as such, Puck could somehow get why. It'll be more productive to do so rather than forcing on his weak gate, rendering him useless.

But would that be worth it? His mind raced.

"If I push Subaru toward Spirit Arts, Betty could see it as a betrayal, a direct insult to her expectations."

He knew it; Beatrice was already envious of his bond with Emilia, barely holding herself back from acting on that resentment. If he went out of his way to interfere with Subaru's path, it could turn that suppressed jealousy into something dangerous.

If he pushed Subaru into other spirits' hands, what kind of enemy would that make Beatrice? Would she really restrain herself, as usual? Would that help Lia in any way?

Is it a good decision to drive a wedge between them and Betty for the sake of Subaru's growth?

While Puck can be pragmatic and harsh, he isn't needlessly cruel, and provoking Beatrice could create instability at the mansion, which isn't in Emilia's best interests.

Besides, Subaru wasn't valuable to him because of his combat ability. What mattered most was his unique time-related authority and his bottomless willpower.

From Puck's pragmatic perspective, Subaru is useful because he can act as Emilia's shield and redo events if things go wrong. Training Subaru as a mage or a spirit user is secondary to ensuring he fulfills that role properly.

So the smarter move was to let things play out naturally. Beatrice was already invested in Subaru, albeit begrudgingly.

She had the same elemental affinity as him, and if things went well, perhaps…she and Subaru could form a contract. He barely considered it as a possibility, but somehow, without rational proof, he could see Subaru pulling such a feat.

Even if that didn't happen, at least Subaru wouldn't recklessly break his gate under Beatrice's watch.

And not only that; if Subaru struggles with magic under Beatrice's tutelage, he may naturally conclude that pursuing it seriously isn't worth the effort, leading him to consider alternative ways of growing stronger, including Spirit Arts.

Puck doesn't have to force the issue—he can let things play out naturally.

Decision made, Puck grinned at Subaru. "Actually, I think I know someone better suited to teach you."

"Huh?" Subaru blinked. "You're just gonna pass me off to someone else?"

Puck smirked. "I'm sending you to Betty."

Subaru hummed. "…You want me to go to the loli librarian? You're quite the lazy cat, Puck."

"She's not just a little girl," Puck said smoothly. "She's the Great Spirit of Yin."

Subaru's brain short-circuited. "Wait. Wait! You mean she's a spirit? Like you?"

Puck nodded. "Mhm. She's a great spirit, just like me. And she's a master of Yin magic."

Subaru gawked. "But she looks just like a cute child! You're telling me she's on the same level as a talking cat?!"

Emilia giggled as Puck flicked his tail smugly. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"You had your suspicions, didn't you?" The half-elf asked softly.

"I mean, yeah, I always felt something odd from her. But hearing it out loud is wild." Subaru shook his head. "No wonder she acts like she owns the place."

Puck chuckled. "You should talk to her. Since your affinities match, she's the best one to teach you magic."

Subaru still looked skeptical. "Okay, but is she actually a master, or are we just throwing fancy titles around?"

Puck smirked. "You know her Door Crossing ability?"

Subaru narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, the annoying library trick where she can hop rooms like a cheat code."

"That's Yin magic."

"Huh… WHAT?" Subaru's jaw dropped.

Emilia's eyes widened. "That's a Yin spell?"

Puck nodded. "Yes, Door Crossing is an incredibly elaborate use of Yin magic. Most people assume Yin is just for weakening enemies, but Betty pushes it to a whole other level."

Emilia, who had just explained Yin magic as mainly obstructive spells, looked stunned. "I… had no idea Yin magic could be used like that."

Subaru, meanwhile, had stars in his eyes. "Wait, hold up, HOLD UP. So you're telling me that if I master Yin magic, I can learn teleportation? TELEPORTATION?!"

Puck grinned. "Heh! Now you're interested, huh?"

Subaru grabbed Puck by the shoulders. "Are you kidding?! Who wouldn't be interested?! That's the coolest ability ever!"

He suddenly felt way more enthusiastic about learning magic. He absolutely had to learn it.

Before he could rush off to demand lessons from Beatrice, Emilia stood up, handing him a small cloth bag. "Here. Bocco fruits."

Subaru peeked inside and saw a bundle of small red fruits.

"In case you get low on mana," she explained. "They're useful for mages, especially beginners. When you eat it, your mana activates, and your gate regains a little of its strength."

"Ah, Emilia-tan made me eat those that time…" He recalled an event of a previous failed loop, Emilia's constant thoughtfulness, and smiled warmly.

"Aww, look at you, always looking out for me." Subaru held a hand to his heart dramatically. "Is this the part where we confess our feelings?"

Emilia simply answered with a smile. "Just don't push yourself too hard, okay?" Her cheeks had slightly flustered, beyond her own awareness.

"Hey, I'd never be reckless—"

"You always are," Puck and Emilia said in unison.

"…Rude."

They shared a brief laugh before Subaru stretched his arms. "Welp, I'll think about this whole magic training thing later. Right now, I should check on the kids in the village."

That night, he would knock on Beatrice's library door, ready to convince her to be her magical teacher.

For now, though—he had a village to visit.

---

The Forbidden Library was as vast and heavy with mystery as ever, its towering shelves filled with books. Right in front of its door, a great spirit was calmly sitting, as if waiting for something.

It hadn't even been a full day since the infernal loop had been broken. The terror, the deaths, the helplessness that had once gripped this mansion... it felt like a distant nightmare now. As if it had happened years ago instead of mere hours.

Subaru could hardly believe it himself.

Now, instead of fighting for survival, he was sitting cross-legged on the ground, practically vibrating with excitement.

Beatrice stood across from him, arms folded and a distinctly unimpressed look on her face. Somewhere along the way, after much arguing, bargaining, and deal-making, she had finally—finally—agreed to teach him magic.

Subaru grinned ear to ear. This was it. A new chapter. No more dying horribly. No more endless despair.

Just him, magic, and endless possibilities. The beginning of something awesome.

"So, first thing's first," Subaru said, leaning forward eagerly. "Teach me that Door Crossing ability of yours."

Beatrice didn't even blink. It was as if he hadn't spoken at all.

"Uh, Beako?" Subaru waved a hand in front of her. "Did I break you?"

Beatrice let out a long, suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she were in physical pain. "Of course you'd ask for the most complicated spell right away, in fact," she muttered. "You've barely taken your first step, and you already want to fly, I suppose."

"Well, duh!" Subaru threw his arms wide. "Door Crossing is awesome! Just think about it—no more getting lost, no more dead ends, just instant shortcuts everywhere! I'd be like a teleporting ninja!"

Beatrice gave him a flat look. "You'll be like an idiot who explodes because he doesn't know his limits, in fact."

Subaru's enthusiasm wavered. "That… sounds significantly less cool."

"Hmph." Beatrice huffed, clearly pleased with herself. "If you must learn magic, you'll start from the absolute basics, I suppose. No shortcuts."

"Fine, fine." Subaru raised his hands in surrender. "But you're still teaching me, right? No backing out of our deal?"

Her lips pursed. "Only because Betty has yet to be satisfied with your knowledge, in fact. Betty expects you to keep up your end of the bargain."

"I will. Now hit me with that juicy magic knowledge, Beako-sensei."

Beatrice rolled her eyes before shifting into teaching mode, her tone turning firm. "Listen carefully, I suppose. To cast magic, you must first visualize the flow of mana inside you," she instructed. "Then, extract only a tiny amount from your gate and expel it outward."

"Got it," Suaru nodded quickly. "Visualize mana, expel tiny bit. How tiny are we talking here?"

Beatrice narrowed her eyes. "So small that if you mess up, the worst thing that happens is mild fatigue. But not too small, or else the spell won't be cast, I suppose"

Subaru nodded, then hesitated at her pointed expression. "Wait… what happens if I don't get it right?"

Beatrice smirked. "Oh, you'll explode like a meat balloon, I suppose. Bits of you will be splattered across the mansion, and the maids will have to clean it up, in fact."

Subaru went pale. "…You're messing with me, right?"

She tilted her head, as if considering it. "Hmm. Maybe. Maybe not, I suppose."

"Beako!"

"Quit your whining, small fry," she said, placing a small hand on his chest. "Since it's your first attempt, Betty will act as support. Betty will draw from your own gate and regulate the mana flow, in fact. You'll still be the one casting the spell, but Betty will ensure you don't, well… burst, I suppose."

"How reassuring," Subaru muttered.

"Be grateful, I suppose," Beatrice huffed. Then, with a dramatic flourish of her hand, she turned toward the library doors and pushed.

Instead of opening to a hallway, the doors swung outward to reveal the front entrance of the mansion, leading directly outside. The bright afternoon sunlight rushed in.

Subaru deadpanned. "Oh, come on! You're just showing off now!"

Beatrice smirked as she stepped onto the porch. "Betty simply doesn't want your flesh and blood staining Betty's precious books, in fact. Now hurry up."

Subaru grumbled but followed, shaking his head. "Okay, my objective will be to learn that spell…"

---

The afternoon air was fresh and warm, carrying the faint scent of flowers from the nearby gardens.

In the sunlight, Beatrice's drill-like curls almost seemed to shimmer as she marched a few steps ahead, arms swinging stiffly at her sides. "We'll start with a basic spell, Shamak."

Subaru trailed after her, still riding the high of getting to this point. His heart raced, not out of nerves, but out of pure excitement.

Beatrice stopped abruptly and turned, holding out a small hand toward him.

Subaru blinked. "Uh... Beako?"

She averted her gaze, her cheeks puffing up slightly in annoyance. "Betty doesn't have any choice, I suppose," she muttered. "To support your gate properly during your first spell, physical contact is necessary. Be grateful, in fact."

Subaru hesitated for half a second before slipping his hand into hers. Her fingers were tiny, delicate, and surprisingly warm.

It was such a simple thing—holding hands—but somehow, it made Subaru feel incredibly close to her in that moment.

He squeezed her hand lightly. "Thanks, Beako, I'm leaving it to you," he said, smiling softly.

She clicked her tongue, glancing away quickly. "Hmph. It's merely part of the procedure, I suppose. Don't get the wrong idea."

Subaru chuckled, feeling lighter than he had in days. "Right, right. Professional handholding. Got it."

Beatrice harrumphed and shifted into her teaching voice. "Focus, I suppose. Feel the mana inside you. Visualize it flowing naturally though your body."

"Visualizing, alright. Fantasizing is my strongest skill. Myon, myon~" Subaru nodded, closing his eyes. He tried to concentrate, pushing away the distractions—the sun, the slight breeze, the pounding of his own excitement.

It was easier than expected. Slowly, he felt something stir within him. Tendrils of darkness, flowing around before a shining exit.

"There!" he said under his breath. "I can feel it… I think!"

"Good," Beatrice said. "Now, release only a small amount through your gate, and spell 'Shamak'. And I mean small, I suppose. Barely a trickle, in fact. "

Subaru did as instructed, carefully guiding the mana outward. A strange sensation built up in his chest, traveling up his arm—

"Hm? Wait—"

"Shamak!"

A massive puff of black mist erupted from his outstretched hand, swallowing them both entirely—

—and Subaru immediately staggered and collapsed face-first onto the soft grass.

Beatrice blinked down at him, unimpressed. "…Pathetic."

"Ughh…" Subaru groaned, barely able to move. "That was… so… cool…"

Beatrice sighed, stepping closer. "Honestly, you're worse than an infant, in fact."

Subaru weakly raised a hand. "Beako… my pocket… help…"

Beatrice scowled. "What now?"

"Bocco fruit…" he croaked.

She folded her arms. "So now Betty is your personal caretaker too, I suppose?"

Subaru just kept weakly motioning toward his pocket, his fingers twitching. Beatrice let out a dramatic sigh, reached into his coat, pulled out the small fruit, and shoved it straight into his mouth—forcefully.

Subaru barely had time to chew before a jolt of energy shot through his body, like he'd been electrocuted. He sat up immediately, eyes wide. "HWAH!"

Beatrice huffed, dusting off her dress. "Tch. You should be honored that Betty personally fed you, I suppose."

"Y'know, if you didn't forcefully shove it down my throat, I might actually be able to appreciate it," Subaru muttered, rubbing his jaw.

"Hmph."

Subaru exhaled and flexed his fingers. He was still exhausted, but that was his first real spell. His first magic. He grinned. "Alright, let's go again!"

Beatrice's expression darkened. "Absolutely not, in fact!"

"Huh? But I just got started—"

"You are forbidden from using magic without me overseeing it," Beatrice said firmly. "You can't even handle Shamak without collapsing. Until your gate strengthens, every spell must be done under Betty's supervision."

Subaru pouted. "Come on, at least a little practice in my free time—"

Beatrice leaned in close, lowering her voice dangerously. "If you even think about casting magic on your own, Betty will know, and will never teach you again, I suppose."

Subaru gulped. Her tone left no room for argument.

He straightened and nodded. "Alright, alright. I swear I won't do it."

Beatrice stared for a long moment before nodding. "Good. Lesson over, I suppose."

Subaru sighed, laying down on the grass, grinning from the sheer euphoria he's living through.

"Magic, huh?"

He stretched his arms, still riding the high of casting his first spell. "Man, that was awesome!" He flexed his fingers, watching them as if expecting them to glow with magic. "So this is what being a wizard feels like. I think I get it now. Call me Subaru the Sorcerer—no, the Grand Mage from Japan!"

A heavy, suffocating silence hung heavy between them. Subaru blinked and turned. Beatrice hadn't left.

She stood there, unmoving, her blue eyes fixed on him.

"...Beako?" he asked cautiously.

She didn't respond.

A sudden chill crawled down Subaru's spine. "Why does this feel like I've messed up?"

He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… something wrong? Did I mess up the spell?"

No answer. Just that same, unwavering stare.

Subaru felt sweat bead on his forehead. He glanced around, half-expecting a hidden assassin, a looming threat—anything that could explain the tension. But no, it was just Beatrice. Still staring.

His mouth went dry. "…Okay, seriously, what is it? You're creeping me out."

Beatrice exhaled through her nose, looking almost disappointed. "You really forgot, didn't you, I suppose."

Subaru blinked. "Huh?"

"You forgot," she repeated, as if speaking to a particularly slow-witted child. A pause. Then realization smashed into Subaru like a runaway carriage.

"Oh. OH. Right. Right! The, uh, knowledge thing," he said quickly, nodding with exaggerated confidence. "Of course, of course! I didn't forget! Ha ha… ha…"

Beatrice stared, as his fake laughter trailed off.

"You totally forgot," she said flatly.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Subaru waved his hands frantically. "I definitely remembered! I was just, uh, waiting for the right moment! You know, good storytelling structure and all that!"

Her expression remained deadpan.

Subaru clenched his fist, slamming it into his palm. "I was gonna dramatically reveal the knowledge right after this! It was all part of my master plan, Beako!"

Beatrice's gaze sharpened. "That's two pieces of knowledge, in fact."

Subaru paled. "H-huh?"

"You were so immersed in your little moment that you forgot entirely," Beatrice continued, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "So, as compensation, you owe Betty two pieces of knowledge, I suppose."

"Wh—! That's not how this works!" Subaru protested.

Beatrice smirked. "It is now, in fact."

Subaru sputtered. "Beakoooo!"

"Hmph. It's your own fault for being careless, I suppose."

Subaru clutched his chest dramatically. "Unbelievable. First, you tell me I might explode like a meat balloon, and now you exploit my momentary lapse in memory? You're cruel, Beako. Too cruel."

Beatrice gave an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand on her hip. "Honestly, with how foolish you are, Betty should be getting three pieces of knowledge, in fact."

Subaru gasped. "You dare extort me?!"

"Betty dares because you deserve it, I suppose."

"A monster! A tyrant in loli form!"

Beatrice scoffed. "And yet, you are the one who owes Betty, in fact."

Subaru groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Fine, fine! I'll give you two. But man, I gotta say, you're super cute when you're being all smug."

Beatrice stiffened. "Wha—!"

Subaru grinned. "Seriously, top-tier smug loli energy. A."

Beatrice's face turned red from anger and exasperation. "Do not say that word, in fact!"

"What, loli?"

"You fool!"

"Alright, alright! Sheesh, you're adorable when you're flustered too—"

"Three pieces of knowledge, in fact!"

"WAIT, NO—!"

---

A week had passed since Subaru had cast his very first spell.

The first few days had been the worst—his gate was as frail as ever, and just visualizing the mana flow gave him migraines. But against all odds, he managed to push forward.

Thanks to Beatrice's relentless supervision—and more than a little hand-holding on her part—he could now cast up to four or five spells a day.

An astonishing feat, considering how fragile his gate had been before. However, Subaru wasn't naïve enough to take all the credit.

This progress wasn't just his doing—it was because of Beatrice.

The little spirit had, somehow, attuned herself to his gate in a very short amount of time, syncing with it in ways Subaru didn't fully understand.

Because of that, she could support him far more efficiently, allowing him to push past limits that should have held him back for weeks.

At first, it had been an absolute nightmare to manage, as his gate was like a stubborn, rusted door that refused to close properly once opened.

If he had been on his own, he'd barely be able to use a single Shamak every two or three weeks without putting his gate at serious risk.

Beatrice herself, at the beginning, was perplexed, but quickly dismissed this as nothing more than her exceptional teaching and support abilities.

"Your progress is remarkable, I suppose," she had commented earlier in the day, arms crossed and a smug grin on her face. "But don't get too full of yourself. It's entirely thanks to Betty, in fact."

Subaru had rolled his eyes. "Wow. It must be so exhausting, being so humble." Even though he knew how much she was helping him.

"Hell, it's almost like she was manually rewiring my magical circuits or something." That's how Subaru instinctively felt whenever Beatrice supported his gate during a spell cast.

"Betty is humble, in fact. But when you're as talented as Betty, it's difficult to be too humble, I suppose."

Still, even if she was proud, she had her own questions. Subaru's rapid growth with magic had surprised her more than she let on. She had expected slow progress. No—painfully slow progress. Just a week ago, he could barely cast a single Shamak before needing to lie down like he'd run a marathon.

So why was he advancing at this rate? "Does he… actually have a talent for magic?"

The thought was absurd. Beatrice shook her head, dismissing it almost immediately.

"No. This is simply proof that my teaching is flawless, I suppose," she muttered to herself. And she was absolutely right. Natsuki Subaru had no talent in magic. But.

Beatrice had the unexpected talent in teaching magic specifically to the man called Natsuki Subaru.

---

During this week, Subaru had learned three spells so far, in this order. Shamak, the sense-messing spell, low cost. Murak, for lightening objects, medium cost. And Vita, for weightening objects, medium cost.

They were useful. They had potential in the right situations. But they weren't flashy. And, as grateful as Subaru was, that was a problem.

"Ughhh, Beako," he groaned dramatically, leaning against a bookshelf. "I wanted battle spells, not nerfing magic!"

"It's just… all of these feel like debuff moves," Subaru sighed.

"Murak makes things light, Vita makes things heavy, and Shamak blinds people. Where's the boom? Where's the bang? Where's the spell that makes me look cool as hell while blowing enemies away?!"

Beatrice frowned at him from across the room, closing her book with an annoyed thud. "That's an awfully simplistic way to view magic, I suppose."

"Tell that to literally anyone who has fire magic." Subaru huffed. "C'mon, Beako, you gotta have at least one attack spell up your sleeve, right?"

Beatrice narrowed her eyes. "Betty does, but—"

"Then why haven't you taught me that yet?"

"Because you're not ready, in fact," she snapped, floating over to poke his forehead. "Minya is nothing like the spells you've learned. You'd destroy yourself trying to use it recklessly, I suppose."

Subaru's eyes lit up. "Minya? What's that? Tell me more."

Beatrice frowned, clearly regretting even saying the name. "It's nothing you should concern yourself with, I suppose."

"That's a terrible way to make someone not interested in something."

"Boring, tedious, unimportant, and above all else, dangerous," she emphasized each word with a pointed stare. "Minya is not something you can just pick up and cast like your previous spells. It requires precision and control far beyond what you're capable of, in fact."

Subaru leaned forward, eyes gleaming with excitement. "So it is an attack spell."

Beatrice sighed. She could already tell where this was going.

"Teach me," Subaru said.

"No."

"Come on, Beako, teach me."

"Betty said no, I suppose!"

Subaru grinned. "What's wrong? You scared that you can't handle teaching me something this advanced?"

Beatrice twitched. "What did you just say?"

"Oh, nothing," he said casually. "It's just—y'know, I've heard Puck mention you were a master of Yin magic, but I guess he must've been mistaken. Mastery usually means you can teach even the most difficult spells, right?"

Beatrice's eye twitched. "You're insufferable, I suppose."

"But am I wrong?"

Beatrice gritted her teeth. "Betty hates you, I suppose."

"And yet, you love proving me wrong," Subaru said with a smug grin.

A long, heavy sigh escaped the little spirit. "Fine. But don't come crying to Betty if your gate breaks, I suppose. Hmph!"

Beatrice explained the spell with an almost unnerving seriousness.

"Minya isn't just an 'attack spell,' in fact," she began, pacing around Subaru. "It's more akin to a curse—an invocation of stagnant time that freezes an object or being, attenuating their existence itself. If the spell succeeds, the affected target will be shattered. It doesn't matter if they have the toughest body in the world. Flesh, steel, or stone—none of it matters, I suppose."

Subaru blinked. "...So it's a death spell?"

"In a sense, I suppose," Beatrice admitted.

Subaru grinned. "Hell. Yes."

Beatrice facepalmed.

The first attempt was brutal.

Minya required a different visualization than his other spells—he had to imagine time itself halting. Beatrice guided him through the process, supporting his gate as usual. The moment he cast it, a wave of exhaustion hit him, similar to his very first attempt at Shamak.

But the result? A small, jagged hole appeared in the grass, as if the very space itself had been ruptured there.

Subaru stared at it, breathless, before bursting into laughter. "This is what I'm talking about! A spell with some real impact!"

Beatrice, however, wasn't as amused. "Idiot!" she snapped.

Subaru's grin faltered. He suddenly felt… off. His gate wasn't just drained—it felt wrong. Not in a life-threatening way, but like an overworked muscle that had been stretched too far.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes, placing a hand over his chest. "Hmph… as expected, I suppose."

Subaru winced. "Uh. What's that supposed to mean?"

Beatrice clicked her tongue. "You got a minor injury, in fact."

Subaru stiffened. "...How minor?"

Beatrice crossed her arms, looking a little irritated—not at Subaru, but at herself. "It'll heal by itself after some rest, I suppose."

Subaru exhaled in relief. "Oh, thank god. You scared me for a sec—"

"But Betty let this happen," she interrupted firmly, giving him a sharp look. "So Betty is going to fix it by today, I suppose."

Subaru blinked. "Wait, but if it heals on its own—"

"You think Betty will just leave her student's gate in poor condition, I suppose?" she huffed, already preparing a healing spell. "Betty was responsible for guiding you through the process, and she miscalculated. That's Betty's mistake, in fact."

Subaru opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. A small, amused smile crossed his lips. "…You're really serious about this whole teacher thing, huh?"

Beatrice's cheeks puffed slightly, and she looked away. "O-Obviously, I suppose. Betty takes pride in her work, in fact."

"…Thanks, Beako, I'm glad you're my teacher," Subaru said sincerely.

Beatrice paused for a brief moment, then quietly muttered, "Hmph. Just be more careful, in fact."

And with that, she got to work fixing the damage with a shimmering glow on her hands—because that was the kind of person Beatrice was.

As he sat there in silence, watching her work, Subaru thought to himself, "Beatrice really is a kind person."

---

The next morning, Beatrice stood before Subaru with crossed arms, her expression severe. "You are forbidden from using Minya, I suppose," she declared. "Until you're ready."

Subaru sighed but nodded. "Got it. Just the three spells I know

His words were casual, but his thoughts were still on Minya.

The weight of the spell—the eerie but destructive force he had actually pulled off—stuck with him. (He'd have better results using a shovel though.)

It was exactly what he had wanted: something offensive, something powerful. Yet, it drained his gate like a squeezed-out rag, and Beatrice had looked so done with him when he nearly collapsed after using it.

Still, he couldn't shake the hunger inside him. He needed to get stronger. Not for himself, not for some personal ambition.

For Emilia. To be useful, even in the smallest way.

He clenched his fist, a determined fire in his chest. If he was going to be of use to the absolutely incredible Emilia, even just a little, he needed something better.

Still, he wasn't reckless. He understood his limits. Minya was too much for his gate as it is. He couldn't afford to push himself too far—not after seeing how worried Beatrice had been. Even so… his mind refused to let go of the need for more power.

There had to be another way. Something less taxing, but still destructive.

Curiosity sparked, Subaru turned to Beatrice. "Hey, Beako, is there anything that, you know, doesn't eat up a ton of mana but still packs a punch?"

Beatrice, ever unimpressed, gave him a flat look. "That's against common sense, I suppose. More damage means more mana, in fact. It's proportional."

Subaru frowned. "Come on, that can't be absolute. There's gotta be a way around it, right?"

She waved a tiny hand dismissively. "You're the one who told Betty about that, in your nonsense ramblings about 'science'—something about conservation, in fact. Ravoisier's law, wasn't it? Nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed."

Subaru huffed. "Pffft. That's science. This is magic—shouldn't there be some loopholes?"

She deadpanned. "No."

But Subaru wasn't one to let a 'no' stop him. He knew there had to be a way.

Beatrice, deciding to ignore his nonsense, motioned toward a small wooden box nearby. "Enough of that, I suppose. Just cast a Murak on this."

Subaru sighed but obliged. Holding out his palm, he focused, weaving mana into the spell, and chanted "Murak". A faint ripple shimmered around the box as its weight lightened.

Beatrice nodded, as if checking off a mental list. "Now a Vita."

Another pulse, another chant, and the box suddenly heavied, its small frame pressing against the table with a soft thunk.

And just like that—lightning struck.

"Wait! Wait wait wait!"

If he—

If he used Murak to lighten something, then put all that energy into momentum, and just before impact—Vita!

His breath hitched. His brain buzzed.

"EUREKA!"

Beatrice flinched at the sudden outburst. "H-Hah?! What now, in fact?!"

But Subaru was already pacing, hands flying in excited gestures. "Oh man, oh man—Beako, this is it! This is the thing! Listen, listen, you know how heavier things hit harder, right?"

"So what if I take something super light, throw it at full speed, and then at the very last second—boom!—I slam all that weight back into it?!"

He spun toward her, eyes glowing with enthusiasm.

Beatrice, meanwhile, stared at him as if he had just suggested building a house out of pudding—a feasible but ridiculous suggestion. "...What?"

"Think about it!" Subaru clapped his hands together. "I make something light, I launch it fast, and just before impact, I make it heavy again! It's like… like throwing a tiny pebble at bullet speed and turning it into a boulder right before it hits! Minimal mana use, maximum destruction!"

Beatrice blinked. Once. Twice. Then sighed. "You absolute buffoon, I suppose."

But Subaru was too far gone in his excitement to care. "No, no, Beako, listen! This could be it! A new spell! I'm talking next-level magic here!"

Beatrice rolled her eyes, arms folded. "Creating a new spell isn't as simple as waving your hands around and screaming nonsense, I suppose. You need a strong image of how it works, and even then, it's trial and error. Which, in fact, requires mana. And you don't have that luxury, do you?"

"Yeah, yeah, but you do!" Subaru pointed at her dramatically.

Her expression went flat. "No."

"Awww, come on, Beako—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear my—"

"No."

"Beako, pleaaaase—"

"Betty won't invest her precious mana on your nonsense. No."

"Please please please pretty pleeeaase…"

A sigh. Then, with an unimpressed flick of her drill curls, she gave him the tiniest smirk. "Betty might consider it, I suppose… if you manage to show Betty something of interest." She suggested it to make him stop, fully convinced he won't be able to surprise her in Yin magic out of all things.

Challenge accepted. Subaru grinned. "Ohhh, you're so gonna regret that."

"Betty highly doubts it, in fact."

But Subaru was already puffing out his chest dramatically. "This is the birth of something big, Beako. A project that will shake the foundations of this world! A force of destruction unlike any other!"

Feeling the need for something even grander, he threw his arms out in a dramatic T-pose. "And so begins Project Murak-Vita! No, wait… that doesn't sound cool enough."

Beatrice rolled her eyes. "It already sounds stupid, in fact."

He ignored her, rubbing his chin. "Hmm… Ah-ha! I got it! And so begins—"

He struck another over-the-top pose. "Project Betelgeuse!"

Beatrice stared. "…What kind of ridiculous name is that, in fact?"

"It's not ridiculous!" Subaru huffed. "It's the name of a supergiant! A star thousands of times bigger than the sun itself!"

Beatrice frowned. That name... It nagged at something in her mind. Fond memories. Still, she waved it off. "Hmph. That sounds excessively arrogant, I suppose."

"Nah, nah, it's fitting." Subaru wagged his finger. "I mean, think about it! Supergiants are huge, crazy powerful, and can go boom in a massive explosion! Just like this spell is gonna be! It's symbolic!"

Beatrice rolled her eyes. "It's excessive, I suppose."

"It's genius."

She huffed, unimpressed. But before she could shut him down further, Subaru gave a lopsided grin.

"I'll pay you in advance for considering it," he said. "How about a little stargazing knowledge, huh?"

Beatrice raised a brow. "Hah?"

"See, in my world, people have been naming stars for centuries. Even entire clusters of them. They're like constellations—people look up at the night sky, see patterns, and give them names."

Beatrice blinked, expression unreadable. But she didn't interrupt.

"And get this," Subaru grinned. "My name? Subaru? It's the name of a famous star cluster too. The Pleiades."

A brief flicker of something crossed Beatrice's face. Curiosity, intrigue—maybe even something softer, though she quickly masked it.

"…Hmph." She looked away, crossing her arms. "Well, Betty guesses that's mildly interesting, in fact."

Subaru beamed. "Heh. Just wait, Beako. I'll show you something really interesting soon."

She clicked her tongue but didn't argue.

Maybe, just maybe… she was a little curious after all.

---

Without any fanfare, Subaru picked up a regular stone from the ground, tossing it lightly in his hand. Alright. He had the theory. Now came the hard part.

He focused.

First, Murak — he channeled his mana, lightening the stone until it barely weighed more than a feather.

Then—arm it, prepare to throw it—and at the exact moment it left his fingertips—Vita.

At least, that was the plan. Reality was… less cooperative.

On his first try, he activated Vita too early, and the stone simply dropped a foot in front of him like a dead pigeon.

On the second, he missed the timing altogether—the spell failed to activate, and the stone, still under Murak, floated before bouncing lamely across the dirt.

Frustration tightened in his gut.

Throwing an object and spellcasting at the same time; it felt less like a cool magic trick and more like trying to paint a portrait while riding a bicycle through downtown rush hour traffic.

His timing was sloppy. His mana control, worse. His hands felt too slow, his mind too distracted. But Subaru didn't give up.

Every time he messed up, he turned to Beatrice, holding her hand gently, with a desperate eagerness.

"Was that it? Was that closer?"

"No, I suppose."

"What about that one?"

"Worse, in fact."

Each time, her tiny, clipped answers only fueled him further.

Beatrice, hand clutching Subaru's, watched in silence, her sharp blue eyes assessing him.

Normally, she would have been annoyed by such persistence—but not now. He was working out his gate after all, she had no reason to complain. But that wasn't all.

What he was doing wasn't just spell training, clumsily disguised as spell creation, to strengthen his gate.

Control and multitasking. Subaru, without realizing, was trying to master two fundamental components of higher-level magic.

Things even talented mages like Emilia struggled with over years of practice. Things Roswaal, that absurd monster of a magician, had mastered to the point of casually casting six spells simultaneously.

Beatrice seriously doubted Subaru would ever reach that ridiculous level. Honestly, she hadn't even expected him to get far enough to even succeed at what he was trying right now.

But watching him now, his focus, his relentless determination… She couldn't deny it.

She was… curious to see how far he could actually go.

What she hadn't fully realized yet was that Subaru's control and multitasking training wasn't just pushing him forward. It was pushing her too.

In the process of constantly assisting his frail gate, overseeing his unstable mana flow, Beatrice herself had been adapting, tuning, refining. Without consciously noticing it, she had grown more attuned to Subaru's rhythm.

And the result?

In just three days after the start of Project Betelgeuse, Subaru's limits had doubled. Where before he could barely handle four or five spells a day without feeling like death warmed over, now—with her assistance—he could push out eight to ten spells before reaching his limit.

Of course, only when Beatrice was there, holding the reins. Because the truth was harsh: Alone, Subaru was still the same hopeless mess.

It was like—in Subaru's terms—he was a trash-tier playable character that somehow started winning gaming tournaments because the top-tier player Beatrice had picked up his controller.

Or maybe, to use Beatrice's more colorful mental image, he was like a clumsy ground dragon barely able to run straight—until an expert jockey got on his back and turned him into a champion.

Not because the dragon got better. Because the rider was just that good.

It took two additional long days of failure, frustration, and sheer stubbornness. And then, it happened. Finally. One throw. One movement. Two spells casted.

Murak.

Vita.

The timing was spot-on. The mana control, while clumsy, was acceptable.

Beatrice widened her eyes slightly in surprise. It was really pure beginner's luck—but he did it.

"You did it, I suppose," she said, unable to hide a small note of pride in her voice, lips almost curving upward. "Well done, in fact. Even if by accident, few beginners could have succeeded, I suppose."

She started toward him, ready to congratulate him properly—rare praise from her. He was actually starting to become... less hopeless.

Subaru, breathing hard, wiped sweat from his forehead. His whole body felt like lead, but even after hearing that praise—he didn't look proud.

"It's rare for someone to manage a proper dual spell execution this early, I suppose. That's proof of your progress. We should continue—"

But he cut her off, his voice sharp. "...Are you sure you saw it right, Beako?"

Beatrice blinked. "...Betty was watching the entire time, I suppose. You cast them perfectly."

Subaru shook his head slowly, frustration clear in his voice. "The stone..." He pointed to the ground, where the stone lay with a disappointing little trail in the grass. "It didn't hit harder. It didn't do anything. It's no better than just chucking it with Vita alone."

Beatrice opened her mouth, confused—and Subaru's voice rose. "Maybe I screwed up."

Her eyebrows twitched. "No, you executed it properly, Betty said so, in fact."

Subaru clenched his jaw. His hands shook slightly, not from exertion, but from something hotter—frustration burning in his chest.

The stone's impact was not as expected.

It hadn't done anything special. No crater. No explosion. No satisfying blast of force.

It had barely made more impact than a simple Vita-enhanced throw. Just a little scuff in the dirt.

"All that work. All that effort. And this is all I have to show for it?"

The crushing weight of disappointment settled on his shoulders.

It wasn't just about a failed experiment. It wasn't even about magic anymore. It was about everything.

The world he lived in was ruthless, and he was way below the norm. He had seen it—felt it.

Elsa's blades slicing through flesh. The absolute, devastating power of magic users like Roswaal, Puck… like Emilia. The overwhelming volumes and ferocity of wolgarms' packs. The cunningness of bossgarms…

Even slum kids like Felt were quicker than him. Even regular civilians like Raksha were sturdier.

Even Ram. Even Rem—Even the mansion's maids could tear through him like wet paper.

It was about the deadly blades he couldn't block. The monsters he couldn't defeat alone. The friends he couldn't protect without being a dead weight.

The girl he couldn't stand beside.

Everyone else had strength. Everyone else had something. And him? He had… a shallow mark in the dirt.

"It's not enough. Not enough…"

If he was going to survive in this world—no, if he was going to stand beside Emilia, if he was going to be anything more than a pathetic, disposable reset button—

"Not good enough," Subaru whispered, barely aware he was speaking.

It wasn't pride, frustration, ego, or even narcissism. It was desperation. Desperation to matter. Desperation to be worth something.

"Or maybe," Subaru said, voice shaking now, "you messed up watching!"

The words cut deep.

"Betty will say it for the last time, I suppose," she retorted, crossing her hands. "Murak and Vita were executed at perfect timing. There were no mistakes—'

"No. You're wrong. You didn't see properly. I definitely messed it up somewhere."

A pulse of anger sparked behind Beatrice's eyes. "You want to blame Betty now, I suppose?!"

"It it had truly worked, in theory—"

"Enough, I suppose!" she snapped, her voice rising. "Don't you dare insult Betty's eyes, in fact!"

Subaru flinched but stubbornly stood his ground. Beatrice's patience snapped like a brittle twig.

"Do you think you're some genius now, I suppose?" Her words were cold, biting. "It was beginner's luck! You couldn't repeat that feat even if you tried a hundred times, in fact!"

"And for the rare times you succeed," she said, pointing to the shallow mark on the dirt, "you'll always get the same pathetic result! That's common sense, I suppose!"

Subaru opened his mouth, but she cut him off, her voice growing louder with each word.

"Have you really thought you could revolutionize magic with barely two weeks of practice, in fact?! Some genius innovator, I suppose?!" she barked. "Project Betelgeuse? A childish exercise! Thinking that you were actually thinking it would work. Utterly risible, I suppose!"

"Lightening then weightening something to make it hit harder. Did you really think no one else ever had your stupid idea before, I suppose?" she snapped, voice rising.

"That you're the first Yin user to imagine combining Murak and Vita together? Are you underestimating magicians? Underestimating Yin magic itself?!"

Her words were knives, each one finding its mark. "Even Betty tried it, I suppose! And do you know what happens?"

She pointed harshly again at the pathetic crater.

"Nothing, in fact! Murak doesn't amplify Vita! It never had, and it never will, the same way boiling water will never turn it into ice, but steam, in fact! You're chasing a fantasy. Stop being arrogant and focus on your training, I suppose!"

Silence fell, heavy and suffocating.

Subaru stared at her, stunned silent. Beatrice turned away sharply, her whole body trembling with rage—and something more. Shame? Frustration? Hurt?

"Betty is done wasting her time, I suppose. Lesson over, in fact," she muttered, starting toward the library.

Anger stiff in her shoulders, she already moved toward the mansion doors. But Subaru's voice caught her before she could leave.

"Wait," he said, forcing steadiness into his voice. "You're forgetting something, Beako."

Beatrice stopped, back still to him.

"...Payment."

Subaru wiped the sweat from his forehead, exhaling shakily.

"I said I'd teach you something. And today, you're gonna learn some math and physics."

Beatrice didn't move, but she didn't interrupt, either. So Subaru plunged ahead.

"Do you know kinetic energy?" he said. "That's the energy something has when it's moving. The faster it moves, and the heavier it is, the more energy it has. Obvious, right?"

He drew in a slow breath. "Well in my world, we figured out how it works."

"Kinetic energy equals half of the mass times the speed squared." He raised his hand, fingers trembling slightly from the strain of earlier spells. "In short, if you increase mass at the last moment—you're not just making it heavier. You're keeping the speed it had when it was light. Which multiplies the energy exponentially."

He paused, looking at her.

"The idea behind Betelgeuse isn't stupid, Beako. It's physics. Real science. Not just some random fantasy. There has to be something lacking."

"A foolish theory, I suppose." Beatrice finally spoke, her voice low.

Subaru swallowed, feeling the sting of her words. "Yeah? Maybe," he said, voice rising, heart pounding. "And what? Even if it was really stupid, at least I'm trying! I'm not giving up before even starting!"

The words rang out louder than he expected. They struck deeper than he intended.

Beatrice flinched, her shoulders stiffening. "Giving up before even starting…" she mumbled.

There was a moment of heavy, stunned silence between them. Then, slowly, she turned to face him.

Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, furious and unfallen.

"You know nothing, I suppose," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Subaru stepped forward instinctively. "Huh? Beako—"

But she shook her head violently, her twin drills swaying with the motion.

"What do you know, in fact? You don't know anything about what it means to try, to wait... to hope for something and be left behind, to see expectations getting betrayed again and again!" she shouted, her small hands balled into trembling fists. "You don't know anything, in fact!"

Then, without waiting for a reply, she turned and ran—straight to the mansion doors.

Subaru lunged after her, hand outstretched.

"Wait, Beatrice!"

The massive main doors slammed behind her.

Subaru stumbled after her, heart pounding, but when he pushed them open, he didn't find the library.

Only the cold, empty main hall.

Beatrice was already gone, slipping into her library through Door Crossing, cutting herself off from him entirely.

And Subaru stood there, breathless, heart aching, the bitter taste of failure thick in his mouth.

---

The soft, musty scent of old paper filled the air of the library. Rows and rows of books towered around Beatrice like the walls of a fortress.

She sat curled up in her usual chair, a thick tome resting in her lap, her tiny lips drawn into a stubborn frown. The first afternoon, she was furious. Not that she'd admit it.

Beatrice scowled, flipping a page far harder than necessary.

"Hmph. That idiot, in fact. Getting all worked up over nonsense. Thinking his ridiculous idea was revolutionary… the audacity, I suppose."

"Betty doesn't care, I suppose," she muttered into the empty library. "It's better this way, in fact. Betty doesn't want to see his stupid face, I suppose."

The words echoed hollowly in the stillness.

She'd spent the whole afternoon telling herself that. Over and over again.

When dinner time rolled around, she stubbornly stayed put. She wasn't going to the dining hall tonight. Not that she cared about meals in the first place. Or company. Or him.

She even considered reinforcing her Door Crossing, locking it tighter than usual—just in case he tried to show up like he always did to say goodnight.

But he didn't come.

Beatrice closed her book with a soft snap. Her lips pressed into a line. She glanced toward the door.

"...Hmph. Good riddance, I suppose."

But she didn't reach for her tea. Didn't take another book.

Just sat there, heart heavier than she wanted to admit.

---

The next day dawned gray and overcast, but Beatrice, hiding in her library, couldn't have known that. Not that she really cared.

She sat perched on her stool, pretending to be engrossed in a particularly boring volume on earth magic.

Any minute now, Subaru would barge in, grinning like an idiot, demanding another magic session. She'd blast him away without a second thought. She was still mad, after all.

Any minute now.

Any second.

...

He didn't come.

Beatrice huffed, slamming the book shut and hugging it to her chest.

"Hmph. If he dares show up now, I'll demand ten pieces of knowledge in compensation, I suppose. Minimum."

And still, he didn't come. No creaking doors. No footsteps. Nothing.

All afternoon she kept glancing at the door without meaning to. More often than she'd like. Each time, her heart gave a stupid little leap. Each time, it fell.

Night came. She sat there, curled in her chair, pretending not to care as the minutes dragged by.

The time when he usually said goodnight passed in silence. No knock. No cheerful voice.

No Subaru.

And just like that, two nights had passed. Two nights since their stupid argument.

Beatrice exhaled slowly, reaching for the Book of Wisdom without even thinking, almost on impulse. She flipped it open.

Blank, just like always.

Of course it was blank. It was always blank. It had been blank for four hundred years.

"You're not that person," she whispered to the empty room. "I knew that already, I suppose."

It was not disappointment. It was resignation.

She carefully tucked the book under her stool and picked up another.

This was normal. This was fine. People always came to her when they wanted something. Then they left. Always. That was the way of things. She was used to it.

She thought she was used to it.

But her heart still ached. Not sharply, just… dull. Persistent. A quiet, persistent throb she couldn't ignore.

---

The next morning was quiet.

Beatrice sat in her library, pretending to read a storybook she'd already memorized a hundred years ago.

The world outside the walls of books might as well have been a different planet. Then, the door burst open.

"BEAKO!"

She flinched.

There he was, standing there. Subaru.

Dark bags under his eyes. Clothes wrinkled. Hair a mess. But his eyes sparkled. He grinned wide, despite everything.

He looked like he'd been dragged across a battlefield and come back with treasure.

"I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD!" he shouted, grinning like a man possessed.

"Get out," she snapped, snapping her book shut.

"Wait, wait! Just listen to me for a—"

"GET OUT, I SUPPOSE!"

With a sharp flick of her finger, a concentrated blast of wind magic exploded in the air.

Subaru yelped, launched out of the room like a ragdoll, his voice trailing behind him. "UWAAAAAAA—!" The door closed itself after him with a firm thud.

In the following silence, she huffed, puffing out her cheeks. "Stupid fool…"

But even as she reopened her book with an irritated sigh, her fingers trembled. She hadn't even let him finish a sentence.

Not two minutes passed before—Bang. The door creaked open again.

Beatrice immediately bristled. She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want more of his stupid excuses.

She lifted her hand, preparing to cast him out of the library without a second thought. But before she could even gather her mana, Subaru dropped.

Not just bowed—He dogeza bowed so fast and hard it made a dull thud against the library floor. His forehead pressed against the rug, arms stretched forward, trembling slightly.

"I'm sorry!" he shouted. "Beatrice, you were right! I was completely wrong!"

Beatrice froze, her spell dying in her throat. "…What?"

"I was wrong!" he said, words tumbling out. "You were right about everything. I let my pride get the better of me, I acted like a child, and I hurt you. After everything you've done for me, I still… snapped at you."

He didn't move. Didn't look up. Just stayed there, bowed, and the library felt unnaturally silent.

"I threw your help back in your face, and I don't have any excuse for that. So I won't give one." His head remained lowered. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. And thank you."

For a long moment, Beatrice said nothing.

She stared at him—this foolish, reckless, infuriating boy. This boy who stormed back in after being blasted out of her library, just to bow like a fool and apologize.

She didn't know what to say or what to do "...you look even more laughable, prostrate like that, I suppose," she simply whispered, voice wavering.

Subaru stayed bowed for a few seconds longer, before pushing himself upright, a sheepish grin cracking across his exhausted face.

And before Beatrice could even find it in herself to be annoyed, Subaru began to speak.

"I've been thinking about it all this time," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Betelgeuse, I mean. The experiment."

Beatrice raised a brow, still simmering slightly with residual irritation. "I thought you said you came to apologize, not start rambling again, I suppose."

"Turns out it was doomed to fail."

Beatrice blinked. "…Hah?"

He nodded. "The Murak-Vita thing. I expected weight changes to add kinetic energy. But they don't. Not like I thought."

"At first, I was really mad. What's the point of gravity magic if it doesn't make things hit harder? What's the point of messing with weight if it doesn't do anything?"

He stopped and looked at her. "Then I realized the keyword." His voice dropped slightly, tone shifting. "…Gravity."

Beatrice's eyes narrowed, curiosity flickering. She stayed silent.

"When you think about it, it's stupidly obvious. Weight is a product. It's not mass. It's not just gravity. It's mass multiplied by gravity. You don't increase kinetic energy just by tweaking gravity. You need more mass, or more speed. Gravity on its own doesn't cut it."

He looked up, locking eyes with her. "And that's where it hit me. Murak and Vita don't actually change the mass. They're not increasing or decreasing anything inside the object itself."

Beatrice sniffed. "Hmph. Betty told you it wouldn't work, I suppose."

Subaru gave a small grin but kept going, undeterred.

"You were totally right. Here's the thing. I was so focused on power output, I didn't notice what was right in front of me. Murak, Vita… they don't change the object. They don't 'add' or 'subtract' anything. They just… mess with the rules."

He stepped closer now, voice growing in intensity.

"They mess with the relationship between the object and gravity. That's it. That's what they're doing. Murak doesn't make something 'lighter'—it disconnects the object from gravity. Like, it redefines how the object is affected by it. Same with Vita. It's not pushing the object down harder—it's tightening that link."

"And when I realized that, I remembered Shamak. That one blinds people, right? But no, it doesn't blind. It severs. It doesn't cover your eyes—it severs your connection to light. To sound. To sensation. And Minya… It cuts the object off from time, right? Like—like, instead of flowing along the timeline, the part hit by a Minya arrow just gets stranded, stuck on the side of the current. So—so I thought, maybe Yin magic isn't about casting debuff 'spells'. It's not altering things directly. It's not destruction or creation. It's separation. Dissociation. That's the core idea of Yin magic. Or—no, that's not complete. That's part of it. But not enough."

"Because then there's the contradiction: if both Murak and Vita affect gravity, and one loosens it and one tightens it, then Yin magic can't just be about severing. Right? Just cutting ties doesn't explain everything. Like how Murak and Vita have opposite effects but still work off the same 'concept' — gravity. So I kept thinking. I didn't sleep. That's probably obvious. But eventually, I figured—I've been thinking about Yin magic all wrong. Maybe it's not just separation. Maybe it's about distortion. Not just cutting the link between things—but changing how strong or weak the link is. Like a volume knob, or a dimmer switch. Murak turns gravity down. Vita turns it up. Shamak lowers the sensitivity to light and sound. Minya? Cuts the cord completely from time. No, no, I'm not saying it's about manipulation of the concept. It's manipulation of the interaction with the concept. And then I thought—okay, this is pure speculation at this point, but just hear me out— What if everything in the world is connected by these sort of invisible threads? Like an enormous spider web, with every object, all matter, tied to every fundamental force. Gravity, time, space, sensation, heat, whatever. And Yin magic? It plays over the web. It doesn't create or destroy anything. It just plucks those threads. Or loosens them. Tightens them. Twists them. Or, if it wants, snaps them entirely. So Murak—loosen the thread between an object and gravity. Vita—tighten it. Shamak—loosen threads between a person and sensory input. Minya—snap the string connecting an object to time's flow. That's how I'm starting to see it. Like we're not using mana to make things happen out of nowhere—we're using it to tell the world, 'hey, that connection? Don't work the way you normally do. Work this way instead.' It's not control. It's negotiation with the laws of the world. Or maybe even cheating at them, just a little… And I know it sounds crazy. I know. I'm running on, like, three hours of sleep across two days and one bocco fruit. But the more I think about it, the more it feels right. I can even propose a kind of decent explanation to your Door Crossing with it. You're really incredible, Beako. You're redefining space itself. You take one point—say, the library door—and you connect it to another door somewhere else in the mansion. Not by movement, but by folding the space between them. Like… Imagine a sheet of paper. One dot on each end. Normally, to get from one dot to the other, you'd trace a line across the surface. But if you fold the paper—suddenly, those dots touch. The space between them isn't erased. It's just… ignored. Bent. Distorted. That's what Door Crossing is, right? Amiright? You're using doors as coordinates. Anchors. And then you just manipulate the relationship between them. You don't open a path through space. You redefine what space even means between those points. That's neither travel nor movement. That's conceptual surgery. Door Crossing is another kind of thread-plucking, not of time or sensation, but of space itself. And here's the thing. There's something back in my world—only heard about it once or twice. String theory. I didn't get it. It was way too complicated. But the gist of it was... scientists trying to explain everything in the universe as vibrating strings. Like a unified theory for gravity, time, all of it. One big cosmic music sheet. I dunno the details. Not even close. But… maybe Yin magic is kinda like that. Not the theory. But the idea. The structure."

"Right? Maybe it's not about what you can see. It's about the threads underneath. The ones nobody notices until you start pulling at them…Right. So, yeah. That's the whole thread stuff. But the more I thought about it, the more it felt like I still didn't have the full picture. Because here's the thing—I keep talking like reality alteration is what Yin magic does, right? But it's—I mean, each and every magic does that too, in a sense, aren't they? Altering reality. Creating absurd phenomena defying the laws of physics… Still, Emilia-tan doesn't cast 'separation' spells. She doesn't distort concepts or sever ties between the air and its temperature or whatever. She just… creates ice. Like, bam, snowstorm. Chunks of ice pulled out of nothing. She said it too last time, her magic is about temperature control. Roswaal can fly and shoot fireballs. Rem can heal. Ram slices air like butter. They're not bending rules — they're writing new ones. That's different from what I consider Yin magic does. Their elements are changing the world directly. As in, literally making things happen that weren't happening before. But Yin magic doesn't feel like that. Not to me, at least. Yin doesn't overwrite anything for what I know. It changes how things are connected. It's passive. Reactive. It feels like it only works on… I dunno, stuff that's already there. Like it needs pre-existing systems to tweak instead of creating new ones."

"So I started thinking — maybe that's the difference. Maybe Yin magic only works on stuff that has rules. And not just magical rules. Like, real, scientific ones. Like, physics. Natural laws and principles. The universal kind that don't care if you're a mage or a commoner or a talking spirit in pigtails—no offense. You said yourself last time, nobody can boil some water and expect anything other than steam; that kind of law! Like, you can't use Yin magic to make a flower bloom or summon a thunderbolt out of nowhere. But if the flower already exists? You could probably make it not need sunlight anymore. Or make it forget how gravity works. Or time. Or anything that already exists, that follows a set law. It's like... all the other elements write new sentences into reality. But Yin? Yin just edits the punctuation. Deletes a clause. Moves a comma. Same book, same characters, but now the whole meaning is different. However, that raised another big question. If Yin magic only works on natural laws—how the hell does Shamak fit in? It affects body senses. That doesn't feel physical. That feels personal …mental, right? Except it is physical. Well… Kind of. I mean… our senses come from electric signals, right? Hmm…maybe it's not something your world discovered yet, I suppose. Put simply, the sensations felt by everyone are actually electricity running through nerves. I already explained electricity to you, right? Well I did say it was the primary energy we use in daily lives, akin to mana in this world. The thing is, around the same era people discovered how electricity works, we noticed that there is electricity, to a very small degree, constantly running through us! Eyes converting light into electric pulses. Nerves firing. Reflexes responding. Even consciousness — I think? — is tied to all these electric impulses firing in specific ways. So! It's still science. Electricity. Biology. Chemistry. Whatever. So maybe… Maybe Shamak doesn't shut down someone's mind or magically make them go blind. Maybe it just interferes with those electric impulses. Maybe it severs the connection between nerves and brain. Or slows it. Or distorts it. Like pulling the plug on a speaker — the music is still playing, but you can't hear it. You're not gone. You're just… unplugged. I guess what I'm saying is… Yin magic doesn't create new outcomes. It doesn't force reality into something it wasn't. It just distorts the way things already work. Like flipping the switch off. Or re-routing wires. It's grounded in rules, not exceptions …Of course, I could be totally off-base. Maybe I've just been awake too long and my brain's cooking itself from the inside out. Wouldn't be the first time I've hallucinated a breakthrough that turned out to be, like, a fever dream from spiritual dehydration."

He turned toward her, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So… what do you think?"

---

Beatrice didn't speak. She didn't move.

She just stared—at the way his eyes glinted when he talked about magic, the way his hands moved with chaotic energy, the unhinged focus in his voice as he theorized and explained and dreamed.

Her lips were slightly parted, her expression unreadable. Her fingers trembled, just faintly, and her heart was beating too fast.

He had figured it out. Alone.

In no more than two days, without her help, her guidance. Without books or lectures or spells. He had walked blindly through the dark and stumbled right onto truths few Yin mages ever even brushed against.

"…You figured that out yourself?" she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. Because it wasn't just the theory. Not at all.

It was the way Subaru spoke. The way his eyes glinted with stubborn brilliance.

It echoed something deep inside her. And hit her like a thunderclap. That look. That glint. That wild spark of obsession and wonder.

Echidna.

The witch would get like that sometimes. Eyes gleaming, pacing in circles, rambling about soul structures and interdimensional mana interactions. A genius, a madwoman, a visionary—and one of the only people Beatrice had ever loved.

Beatrice had heard Subaru go on tangents before. He always talked too much. But this time, it wasn't just noise…

This time, it was Echidna's voice she heard overlapping with his. Not in tone. Not in words. But in spirit. And suddenly—suddenly, everything fell into place.

How Subaru would tease her without mockery, how he challenged her—like Roswaal Altair used to.

How he stayed patient with her even when she pushed him away—like Ryuzu Meyer once did.

Subaru was echoing all those things she'd lost. She realized it had, in fact, always been that way.

The things she'd overlooked, dismissed, buried—All of it rushed up now, vivid and inescapable.

Subaru wasn't them. He was messy, impulsive, foolish.

But in this moment, Beatrice saw a flicker of all the people she had once loved, once lost—Alive again, in a way she had long since stopped believing possible.

Not a replacement. Not a repeat. Something new, but familiar at the same time.

He clearly wasn't that person. Not the one the contract waited for. She knew that. She knew that…

Beatrice turned away quickly, her voice flat again. "Hmph. Not bad, I suppose."

Subaru, still flushed with excitement from his wild theory, stood awkwardly for a beat—then bowed again, this time gentler, more composed.

"And… I just wanted to say one more thing."

Beatrice tilted her head, watching him carefully.

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes lowering. "Not just for yelling. But for… underestimating Yin magic." His voice was quieter now. Sincere.

"I thought it was just a bunch of status effects. Debuffs. The stuff you give to side characters while the real heroes throw fireballs and summon lightning." He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "But now I know better."

He looked up. And in his eyes, there was no pride. Just quiet awe.

His voice softened further. "For the first time since I came to this world, I feel… blessed."

"I don't know how I got lucky enough to be born with this affinity, but… I'll make it mine, Beako. I'll master it. I swear."

Beatrice didn't speak. But inside, her heart stirred.

He meant it.

This wasn't an idiot parroting back words, a fool swinging around wild theories. He had thought about it. Dismantled his own ideas. Rebuilt them. And somehow managed to have a glimpse over the truth of the magic she had lived with all her life — to grasp its depth, its shape, its weight.

He wasn't trying to win anymore. He was trying to understand. To peer into the abyss of magic.

Beatrice had seen all kinds of mages. Eager apprentices. Arrogant geniuses. Lazy prodigies. Most of them thought magic was about power. But Subaru — for all his weaknesses, for all his clumsy casting and pitiful gate — had something far rarer.

Insight.

"He's not just a fool, I suppose," she thought. "He's worthy to be called an apprentice mage, in fact."

She stood slowly, the folds of her dress brushing the wooden floor.

"Hmph," she sniffed, turning slightly away from him. "It's about time you understood the obvious, I suppose." She was deeply impressed, and even had a lot of questions over his breakthroughs and reasoning process, but the cute little spirit still had her pride.

Subaru blinked. "The obvious?"

"Yes, in fact," she said, folding her arms. "But… since you've finally stopped treating Yin magic like a joke, and considering how incredibly weak you still are…" She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Betty might consider assisting you in your ridiculous experiments from now on."

Subaru's eyes lit up. "Wait, seriously?!"

Beatrice sighed. "Don't make Betty repeat herself, I suppose."

"BEAKO!" he shouted, face lit up like the sun.

Before she could even raise a finger to stop him, Subaru scooped her up into his arms and spun.

"YOU'RE THE BEST!"

Beatrice sputtered, kicking her legs up and down. "Wha–!? PUT BETTY DOWN THIS INSTANT, IN FACT!"

"To celebrate, let's take to the skies!" he declared. "I'll cast Murak!"

Beatrice's heart jumped. "Ah?! Wait—!"

But her instincts kicked in faster than her panic. Before the spell could even destabilize his gate, she had already instinctively seized control of his gate.

And then they rose. Not with a dramatic burst, but a smooth, weightless lift, floating gently above the massive bookshelves of her library.

Books rustled from the breeze. Papers fluttered.

And Subaru was laughing like a little kid seeing magic for the first time.

Beatrice stared at him.

She should be yelling. Should be launching him into the nearest bookshelf with a wind spell. Should be dragging him down by the ear and scolding him for risking his gate.

But she didn't.

She just… watched. His stupid, earnest grin. His eyes shimmer with light. How genuinely happy he looked.

And she smiled. Just a little. "...That was scary, I suppose," she muttered under her breath.

Beatrice was scared. Absolutely terrified, actually.

Was it because of the heights? Because she'd been taken off guard and launched into the air without a word of warning? Or because Subaru had almost carelessly overexerted his gate under her watch?

No, it was more complex. She knew this feeling too well.

This flutter in her chest. This warm twist in her stomach. This fragile, glowing thread tying her to someone again. Not for Roswaal Altair. Not for Mother. Not for Ryuzu. Not even for "that person."

It was easier when he was just an annoying guest. Easier when he was just a hopeless student. Easier when she could pretend he didn't matter.

And yet, she couldn't stop herself from looking at him. Smiling. Even if only a little.

Her voice trembled almost imperceptibly.

"…What an irritating disciple, in fact."

== END OF EXTRA 3 ==

Author's Notes :

That's it for the Last Extra.

Did a lot of research on ReZero's magic for this one, gotta say that was very fun. I didn't even know that this "Myon myon~~" sound Puck made was actually the name of a famous ancient Mage (according to Echidna though).

What the rambling was that—Echidna, get out of Subaru now! Satella and Emilia will get mad!

That's an experiment here; making rambling, info-dumping / lore-dumping, HxH-like exposition actually count in narration and in character development (Beatrice's).

It was the funniest part to make because it was literally me talking about my understanding of yin magic, so, yeah…what do you think about those theories? Personally I think they're incomplete. A draft… That's not my fault tho, shame on Tappei for having made it that way.

String theory for Yin magic… Did I get too far lmao?

That Murak-Vita experiment failed and I explained why. Still (Subaru doesn't know it yet) 'El Vita' increases mass alongside with gravity as well…that's all I'm saying guys…*wink wink*

Next : Arc 3 officially begins. It'll be a very wholesome one. What? You don't believe me?

I rewatched season 1, but I want to read the WN to validate whatever ideas I have in mind. And hopefully, get better ideas. I think I'll try to draw some scenes…maybe…

DISCLAIMER : I don't own Re:Zero, it belongs to Tappei Nagatsuki the GOAT.