Chapter Text
All the guests were seated in their places after a long stretch spent digesting the situation they found themselves in. Their only information? It had come from a man in a smiling mask, who had told them: “You’re going to see a great deal about Subaru. I guarantee all of you it will be very entertaining—downright thrilling for certain people!”
In one of the seats in the third row on the right, beside a man with long blue hair and makeup, sat Rem, being held tightly by her older sister Ram, whose eyes were still red from crying so hard upon finally remembering her beloved sister.
In the seats of the second row, almost in the same state as the two oni sisters, were Julius and Félix, both with eyes red from weeping. The demi-human for his lady recovering her memories, and the purple-haired knight because everyone was finally remembering who he was.
Tristan: Thought I gave you all plenty of time to calm down—the masked albino said, appearing in their midst and startling the entire cinema out of its skin, completely shattering the emotional atmosphere of the place.—Shall we continue?
The entire cast nodded in agreement to the masked figure, who snapped his fingers, turning on the “media,” and vanished just as suddenly as he had arrived.
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In a dark corridor that looked as though it belonged to an ancient castle. That impression came from the rough, cheap wooden floorboards, the thick layer of dust coating the furniture, and the heavy webs of spiders clinging to the walls, where the only source of light was the pale glow that slipped in through the windows. But that was nowhere near the most striking thing about the corridor. No—what truly commanded attention were the countless symbols of the Witch Cult painted across the walls in blood.
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Instantly the atmosphere inside the theater, which moments before had been warm and emotional thanks to the recovered names and memories, turned tense.
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A man was walking through the middle of that scene that looked as if it had stepped straight out of a horror film. He wore a black shirt, gray trousers with a knife holster strapped to his right leg, but the garment that drew the eye most was a simple cloak… and that cloak alone looked far too much like the ones worn by the occultists of the Witch Cult, the only difference being its black-and-orange coloring. The man kept walking down that gloomy corridor without uttering a single word, until he spotted a door at the far end.
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Rem: Are we seriously going to react to a cultist?—she said, her face twisted with pure hatred.
In an attempt to soothe her sister, Ram took hold of her hand. It did little good; Rem’s expression remained locked in rage.
Roswaal: Look on the bright side—I think we might pick up some information about the Cult—he said, trying to ease the tension between the sisters.
Ram/Rem: Very well, Master Roswaal!
Priscilla: Well, I suppose this is worth my attention—she said in her usual haughty tone.
In the first row sat the great spirit Beatrice. She felt something strange coming from the occultist, as if… she had already met that man before? No, it was practically impossible that she had ever encountered him, and yet…
Meili: Hey, Beatrice…—the little former assassin said, pulling the spirit out of her thoughts.—You okay? You’re being awfully quiet.
Beatrice: Betty is fine. Betty is simply… thoughtful, I suppose—she answered, unsettled by the sensation the man was causing her.
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He opened the door with extreme caution. Beyond it lay a room in the same wretched condition as the corridor, only now a thin mist clung to the floor.
The man pulled back the hood that had covered his face and revealed himself to be Subaru Natsuki—Emilia’s knight, the hero of Pristella, the one responsible for the defeat of two Sin Archbishops and two of the three Great Mabeasts.
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Julius: Subaru is a—
Beatrice: Don’t you dare finish that sentence, I say!—the great spirit shouted, cutting the purple-haired knight off.—Betty’s contractor would never be an occultist, I say!
Meili: That’s right! My dad would never be that kind of person!
Garfiel: I agree with the little ones. The boss would never do something like that!—he yelled, rising from his seat.
Priscilla: Then how do you explain him wearing the Cult’s robes?
The three who had spoken fell silent. They truly had no answer for Barielle.
Priscilla: Just as I thought—she said sharply. For all that her expression and tone claimed otherwise, Barielle was also unsettled by the entire situation. Even if she would never admit it, she held feelings for Natsuki, and the possibility that he might be betraying them made her chest tighten.
Aldebaran: Please, princess, don’t go looking for more trouble. I’m always the one left to clean it up afterward—he said in a mild tone of reprimand.
The candidate simply opened her fan in silence, trying to hide the anguish on her face.
The rest of the people in the room remained in complete silence. After all, what could they say? Subaru was an important part of each of their lives, and the thought that he might be betraying them felt like a knife to the gut.
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Subaru: Is the membrane getting thin?—he said in a joking tone after noticing the mist in the room.
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Aldebaran: The guy’s got good taste—the one-armed man thought.
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His attention was quickly stolen by a table covered in scattered papers. Subaru started toward them to read what was written… only to feel a blade press against his stomach.
???: That’s far enough, Subaru!—the voice of the woman who had haunted so many of his nightmares. He looked down and saw the knife resting just above his abdomen.—You wouldn’t want me to do this, would you?
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The members of the half-elf candidate’s camp—everyone except Rem—along with Felt and Reinhard, recognized that voice at once.
Emilia: How is this possible?—the half-elf whispered, eyes wide, unable to believe the scene unfolding before her.
Petra: This can’t be true…—she murmured, shrinking into her seat as the memory of the night she had nearly lost her life to that woman flooded back. If not for Frederica, she would not even be here.
Frederica, seeing Petra’s state, pulled her into an embrace. It was all she could do; she herself was far too shaken by what she had just witnessed to offer the little girl any words of comfort.
Beatrice: Don’t you dare lay a single finger on Betty’s contractor, I say—she declared, her voice thick with hostility. She truly did not care whether Subaru was a traitor or not. She only wanted to stand at his side.
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Natsuki slowly turned his head and saw the young woman holding a blade to his stomach. Only then did he realize who she was…
Subaru: Well… after a whole year, that’s quite the greeting… Elsa.
Elsa Granhiert, the Bowel Hunter.
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Beside the great spirit, Meili could not stop crying—but they were not tears of sorrow. They were tears of pure happiness. Her sister was alive. The one who had taught her how to speak properly, who had taken her out of a forest full of mabeasts and cared for her. Before Subaru’s arrival, Elsa had been the closest thing to family Meili had ever known.
Yet something kept hammering at the back of the little former assassin’s mind. Why had Elsa never given any sign that she was still alive? Was it because she had believed Meili had also perished in the flames of the mansion… or because she no longer loved her, and had simply decided to abandon her?
Meili: Please, big sis… tell me you thought I was dead—she whispered to herself, begging for that to be the truth.
To the former assassin’s surprise, she felt someone take her hand. It was Beatrice. The contact helped her calm down, if only a little.
The rest of the theater was divided. Those who, along with Emilia’s camp, felt a surge of dread at seeing the Bowel Hunter again—Felt and Reinhard among them—and those who simply wondered how that woman could still be alive.
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Elsa: You don’t seem surprised. Interesting…
While the hunter spoke, the lolimancer activated his Invisible Hand and used it to push Elsa’s blade away from his stomach.
In the next instant Subaru drew the knife from the holster on his leg and seized Elsa’s wrist, locking her weapon in place.
He launched two diagonal strikes and a thrust aimed at her throat, but she slipped past every attack with ease. In retaliation the hunter tried to drive a kick into Natsuki’s head, only for him to block it.
When Subaru blocked the kick he inadvertently released her wrist, giving her the opening to slash for his eyes. Thanks to the new reflexes born of his physical training, he managed to dodge—barely.
While dodging, Natsuki found an opening and drove a punch into Elsa’s stomach, then kicked her hard enough to send her crashing into the wall. He was on her in a heartbeat, pinning the assassin against the stone and pressing his knife to her throat.
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Everyone stared in stunned silence. Subaru was truly fighting Elsa on equal footing.
Beatrice: It seems all that training paid off—she murmured, remembering the grueling physical drills and knife practice Subaru had endured. A moment later her expression soured; those same sessions had meant her contractor spent far less time with her.
Subaru’s second adoptive daughter simply let out a sigh of relief that her father had managed to stand toe-to-toe with Elsa. Yet something felt off. She had watched the Bowel Hunter fight countless times against all kinds of opponents. Her older sister always carried that insatiable bloodlust in her eyes whenever she struck to kill. And on the screen, Elsa’s eyes held none of that murderous hunger.
Wilhelm: Subaru-dono has improved tremendously in combat, though he still leaves a few openings—he said, stroking his beard as he analyzed the strikes of his honorary grandson, noting that even if the young man still had much to learn, his close-quarters skill had advanced dramatically.
Félix: He’s improved so much—he said, recalling the duel between Julius and Subaru in the capital. Even without being a combat specialist, it was plain the Japanese boy had changed almost into another person, so skilled had he become.
Garfiel: The boss is badass as hell!—the demi-human blurted, then immediately frowned when his sister failed to scold him.—Sis?!—Garfiel froze in shock at the sight of Frederica’s face flushed tomato-red.
Frederica/Crusch/Priscilla/Anastasia/Rem: The size of that chest—thanks to all the movement of the fight against the Bowel Hunter, they had finally noticed the increase in Subaru’s muscle mass.
Tristan: Damn, women are so thirsty for Subaru—he muttered upon seeing the expressions on the women’s faces.
Seeing her sister’s face, Ram merely released a soft sigh of disapproval at her sister’s taste in men—as if she had any room to talk—and said:
Ram: You had better not actually be a cultist, Barusu.
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Subaru: Try putting the knife to your own throat next time. It works better—he said in a beautifully mocking tone.
Elsa: Not bad—she answered with a smile at the corner of her mouth and a faint flush on her cheeks.—Quite elegant.
Subaru: Working for who this time?—he demanded in an authoritative voice.
Elsa: Ah, Subaru, you know I never talk—she used her free hand to stroke his face, leaving the dark-haired boy faintly embarrassed.
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Most of the women felt their nerves flare at Elsa’s action; if they could have, they would have ordered Subaru to cut her throat then and there.
Felt: That’s a damn good question. What’s this bitch doing in a place like this?—the blonde asked, only to be immediately scolded by Reinhard for her language.
Anastasia: If I had to guess, I’d say it’s just another senseless slaughter—she said, trying to understand the Bowel Hunter’s motives.
Julius: I agree, my lady. I see no reason for this woman to be inside one of the Cult’s outposts either.
Meili: C-Could it have been… Mama?—she thought, breaking into a cold sweat, her hands beginning to tremble. If that woman had discovered Elsa was alive, then it was only a matter of time before Meili herself was found.
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Surprisingly, the black-haired boy removed the knife from the woman’s throat without another word, staring into her eyes with a look of hatred and suspicion while she still wore that same unreadable expression of hers. How he hated not knowing what Elsa was thinking. He decided to leave the hunter where she stood and walked toward the papers he had spotted on the table. The assassin simply remained there, watching Subaru.
Elsa: Don’t bother wasting your time—she said in a serious tone that finally caught Subaru’s attention.—None of the three Gluttonies are here. If you leave now… who knows? Maybe you’ll live long enough to see me again. Then you can go back to your half-elf—she added in a provocative tone, though the final part of her sentence carried a faint edge of disgust as she circled around him.
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Felt: Gluttonies?—the blonde candidate asked, trying to piece together the few, almost nonexistent clues the scene was giving everyone in the room.
The green-haired Valkyrie grew thoughtful and began stroking her chin, trying to connect the dots. She remembered a conversation she had had with Subaru before the Cult’s attack on Pristella. That day the black-haired young man had poured out all his hatred for the Witch Cult to the candidate. She understood that fury perfectly; after all, the Cult had taken Rem from him. All of it the work of the Archbishop…
Crusch: Of Gluttony—the woman said in complete shock. Had she figured it out?
Félix: What is it, Lady Crusch?
Ding-dong—an onomatopoeia.
The green-haired candidate was suddenly pulled from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps approaching from her left.
Everyone turned toward the source of the noise and saw Tristan, the man who had brought them to this place, stepping out of the door marked “Do not enter, or you die.” He walked among them in silence, which only made the tension climb higher.
Tristan: Good, Miss Crusch. I ask that you allow me to take over from here—the albino in the smiling mask said in his usual animated tone, clearly thrilled by the situation that had been created.—I know all of you have many questions—
Garfiel: Then just spit it out already, you little shit of a host! Why is the boss dressed like that?! And why is that bitch still alive?!—the demi-human roared, cutting the albino off.
The thought of scolding him never even crossed Frederica’s mind. Her brother had spoken the exact words she herself wanted to say.
After Garfiel’s outburst the masked man simply stood there in silence, which unsettled everyone present. Even though they had known Tristan only a short time, one of the boy’s defining traits was that he almost never stayed quiet. That silence was finally broken by his own laughter.
Tristan: HAHAHAHAHAHA! LITTLE SHIT OF A HOST! HAHAHAHAHA!—his outrageous laughter echoed through the entire room.
That only fueled the anger of everyone in the theater. How could that man laugh at a time like this? The cackling was the final straw for Garfiel. He charged at Tristan, ready to throw a punch. But before the Sword Saint could intervene, the masked figure kicked the demi-human square in the face and transmuted his own arm into a tentacle, binding Garfiel in place.
Tristan: Look, I understand your anger, but there was no need to try and hit me—he said in an unnervingly serious tone, tightening his hold on the half-beast.—But… as I said, “I understand your anger,” so I won’t retaliate.
In a heavy, morbid silence he carried the blond boy back to his seat beside his sister.
Tristan: I ask that you forgive me for that—the albino gave a slight bow.—But as I was saying before I was interrupted, you all have many questions, and I will answer most of them.
Emilia: Then please tell us. Why is my knight wearing the robes of the Cult?
Even though the smiling mask hid it, the white-haired man smiled.
Tristan: There are three reasons Subaru is wearing the Cult’s vestments—he raised a hand and held up three fingers.—The first reason has blue hair and is wearing a maid’s uniform. The second is a beautiful Valkyrie with green hair. And the third is known to all of you as a renowned knight—he pointed to each of the “reasons” in turn.
With those words, silence simply swallowed the entire room. Every piece fell into place. They already knew how Subaru handled problems. But this was too much.
Tristan: He faked his own death, and using his strong miasma scent he infiltrated the Cult. All of it just to wake Rem, restore Crusch’s memories, and return Julius’s name.
Beatrice: Contractor… you idiot. I say…
Emilia: Even if it’s to save others… this is still ridiculous.
Otto: You deserve a punch for this, Natsuki-san—the merchant said with genuine anger. Subaru should already have known he didn’t have to do everything alone and could have asked for help. Even if, right now, he would clearly be the one getting beaten if he tried to throw a punch at Subaru, he would still try.
Rem simply began to cry. After all, what else could she do? Her hero. Her first love. The person she loved most after her sister was sacrificing himself solely to wake her. And she could do nothing but watch.
Crusch covered her face with one hand and bit her lip so hard she tasted the metallic tang of her own blood. If only she had been stronger! If she had been stronger, she would not have been defeated so easily by the Archbishop of Greed, and perhaps she would never have lost her memories—nor Rem her name and memories. And Subaru would not be in this situation.
Julius clenched his fists in frustration. If he had not failed to defeat Roy, one of the Archbishops of Gluttony, Subaru would never have had to resort to this. How could he still call himself a friend?
Frederica: All right. But Tristan-san… how is Elsa alive?—she asked hesitantly.
Tristan: Basically her regeneration is far more absurd than any of you realized. A few minutes after Garfiel crushed her, she recovered and fled.
Garfiel: Shit!—the demi-human gritted his teeth in fury. Subaru had given him a mission—eliminate the Bowel Hunter—and he had failed.
The demi-human maid placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.
Frederica: Okay. I understand.
Reinhard: After everything we’ve seen, it’s unfortunate to realize she is telling the truth. None of the Archbishops of Gluttony are there.
The Sword Saint’s words brought simultaneous relief—that Subaru would not have to face all three Archbishops of Gluttony—and sorrow, because he would still have to remain infiltrated within the Cult.
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Subaru: You really think I’m going to believe a single word you say?
Elsa merely let out a soft laugh. She already knew that no matter what she said, Subaru would never believe her.
Elsa: Fair enough—the hunter said as she walked to the window and opened it.—How about we continue this conversation another time?
The dark-haired boy simply nodded.
The assassin prepared to leap through the window, but before she did… with surprising speed she closed the distance on Natsuki, giving him no time to react. The young man simply closed his eyes, accepting that he was about to die.
Yet instead of feeling her blade slice into his stomach, he felt her hands cup his face and something soft press against his lips. He opened his eyes at once and saw that…
She had sealed their mouths together.
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The men, along with Felt, Meili, Beatrice, and Ram, suddenly felt a murderous aura rise in the room.
Emilia felt a tightness in her chest, though she did not know what it was.
Rem: That fucking bitch!!!—the oni began squeezing the arm of her chair so hard it cracked.
Frederica: Next time, I’ll be the one in charge of killing you myself—the demi-human said with a terrifying expression that made Garfiel feel a flicker of pity for Elsa the next time she crossed paths with Frederica.
Anastasia/Crusch/Priscilla: How dare that whore touch my Subaru-dono/Natsuki-kun/commoner!—the royal candidates thought in unison, sharing the exact same look of fury.
Petra: I won’t give up on Subaru-sama’s heart—the little maid thought.
Meili: Beatrice… Am I gonna have to start calling Elsa “Mama”?—she asked, nudging the great spirit.
Beatrice merely shrugged.
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When they finally separated, Elsa walked toward the window she had opened. Subaru remained frozen in complete shock; he could never have believed that the woman who had tormented his dreams for so long had just kissed him.
Elsa: So…—He snapped out of his trance the moment he heard her voice, though there was something different in her tone, as if a weight pressed on her chest.—How’s Meili doing?
That was it…
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The atmosphere inside the room shifted in an instant. For those who had already met the assassin, it was strange to hear her voice without its classic sadistic edge.
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Subaru: She’s doing fine… she missed you—he answered clearly and aloud. As much as he disliked Elsa, he could not take away her right to know how Meili was. After all, the girl had been an important part of the hunter’s life, just as his own parents had been for him.
Elsa: Ah… that’s good—she said in a failed attempt to hide what she felt.
Subaru: Look, if you want to see her I can—
Elsa: No!—she cut him off.—It’s better if she doesn’t have any more contact with me—she said, her voice heavy with melancholy.
Before Subaru could say another word, the hunter slipped through the window and vanished into the darkness of the forest.
For the first time, he understood what was going through Elsa’s mind.
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The screen went dark.
In the silence that settled over the room, the only sound that could be heard was the sobbing of the former assassin. How could Elsa say such a thing? Of course there were many reasons for her to reach that conclusion—Elsa was a madwoman obsessed with bowels who had dragged the girl into that life. But she had also raised Meili, taught her to read, to write, and to behave like a human being. Before Subaru, Elsa had been the first family Meili ever knew.
Unable to bear watching her cry any longer, Beatrice and Petra both left their seats and ran to embrace the girl.
Tristan: I think it’s best I send you all home—he snapped his fingers, and just as those people had arrived in the room, they vanished.
Afterward the man remained behind to repair the arm of the chair Rem had broken.