The all-out war with the Witch Cult that began in Watergate City Pristella was nearing its climax.

To the east of the city, a church had become encased in ice, with towering icicles piercing the sky.

To the north, waterways erupted in flames, collapsing like blazing stone towers with an earth-shattering roar.

To the west, part of the waterway was destroyed, causing a torrent of water to flow underground, resulting in a flood.

At the city’s center, the government office, which served as the heart of the city’s functions, was losing its shape as it became foundationless.

The battle fronts opened across the area caused tremendous damage, etching the threat of the Witch Cult into the city. Yet, those who resisted pushed back the malice, conducting a defensive battle with their limited forces, striving to fulfill their purpose.

In the midst of these desperate attempts to overcome the dire straits of Watergate City, if there was anywhere that the battle was going poorly, it would be this battlefield, perhaps.

—Yes. The sudden outbreak of the skirmish against the Archbishop of Sin, “Gluttony”, Rai Batenkaitos.

“Haha! That’s no good, no good, no good, no good, no good! What’s happening? What do you want? What are you going to do? What have you done!?”

In the narrow, winding waterways known as ‘Waterway Street’.

In the central plaza of that Waterway Street, a small shadow was bouncing around energetically while laughing maniacally.

Utilizing its short arms and legs to the fullest, while wildly tossing its long, unkempt dark brown hair, it was a boy barely in his mid-teens, dressed only in a ragged piece of cloth, looking like a homeless child.

However, despite appearing as such, it couldn’t be easily dismissed once one laid eyes upon it.

The boy’s existence was thoroughly anomalous, warped, and abominable.

One glimpse was enough to understand the oppressive aura radiating from his entire being. It was a deadly madness that beckoned to the primal instincts that humans had long since shed in their daily lives.

Everyone could recognize the bizarre nature of his existence just from that.

He transcended the realm of human, trampling on human wishes, and ravaging the world of humans—a blasphemer, the Archbishop of Sin from the Witch Cult.

“He’s just one little brat! Surround him and don’t let him escape! Take him down!”

“That’s right, just one little brat! Catch him and tear him apart!”

The orders of broad-voiced men overlapped with the boy’s giggles.

Rai Batenkaitos, “Gluttony”, glared at the men closing in on him, but rather than retreating, he casually stepped forward, closing the distance with ease.

“—Huh.”

Without even uttering a sound, the men clad in white robes lunged at Batenkaitos.

These men, draped in white garments, were members of the mercenary group “White Dragon Scales” left behind by Kiritaka, brandishing small blades in their hands, they attacked the “Gluttony” from all sides.

In perfect formation, against the simultaneous attack, Batenkaitos remarked,

“You have some fraying there; that won’t do.”

He slipped through the gaps in their flawless coordination, evading four blades with minimal movement.

Ducking aside to dodge a blade, he diverted another coming at him with a dagger strapped to his right arm, kicked one man’s body, and broke through their encirclement. Standing right in front of him was a large figure crossing his arms.

“Ugh, if it’s like this, I’ll just go all out!”

The figure was Gaston, Felt’s servant. He charged at Batenkaitos, attempting to collide with him while wielding the one dagger he managed to snatch from the Archbishop.

Batenkaitos, surprised by this move, immediately broke into a smile. It was an age-appropriate grin, but his slightly sharp canine teeth revealed a hint of unease.

“You’re lively, old man. I don’t dislike it!”

“I’m not old enough to be called old man… whoa!?”

As Gaston lunged, Batenkaitos’s right foot delivered a strike to the side of his face. Gaston, struck by the kick, did not back down; instead, he looked down at Batenkaitos.

Just like the dagger before, this strike did not land on Gaston. Although the principle was unclear, Gaston’s body completely neutralized the force of the blow.

Without pause, Gaston reached out his arm, closing in on the agile “Gluttony”—

“Fist of the King—”

As he raised his leg, Batenkaitos whispered something. His palm made contact with Gaston’s torso. Compared to the kick, it bore no power or speed—just a simple touch.

However, immediately after the gentle push, Gaston’s body bent at an angle.

“Ugh…!?”

Kneeling down, Gaston groaned as he spilled forth gastric fluids. Batenkaitos slipped past his doubled-over form and turned back, tilting his head.

Was that it? Such a gesture seemed to mock the “White Dragon Scales”, injuring their pride while simultaneously hiding their horror and awe.

“What a monster…!”

Someone muttered those words, succinctly proving the capabilities of Batenkaitos.

It was possible that the trace of envy was mixed into that pained voice, but it could have also been a mishearing.

“…You’re lacking a decisive blow more than I thought.”

Watching the hopelessly uneven battlefield, Otto licked his dry lips, desperately racking his brain.

In this skirmish with “Gluttony”, the forces at their disposal were utterly unreliable—of course, it was true that everyone was doing their utmost, yet that still wasn’t enough.

The “White Dragon Scales” left behind by Kiritaka numbered seven. Felt and Gaston made two, with Otto standing as a lone fighter—they totaled ten.

Surely, if by chance someone who had quickly resolved their own battle joined them, it’d flip the situation around and lead to a grand reversal—idealistically speaking.

“But I don’t trust my luck to expect such fortune.”

Otto Suwen’s life was perpetually entwined with misfortune and absurdity. He believed that luck did not exist; the only path to achievement was through personal effort, preparation, and action.

For him, luck was the fact that he was born into a troublesome household with understanding, despite it being full of burdens, and that he was saved from being killed by an Archbishop of Sin by Subaru.

Thus, he thought he’d used it all up, feeling no need to lament undue misfortune.

“Has the water dragon you brought along been rendered useless?”

Felt, who was also observing the situation, called out beside Otto.

Her crimson eyes glared at the form of a water dragon slumped on the cobblestones, in a dying state with a long neck twitching.

Otto prompted them, but unfortunately, the sad water dragons scattered by Batenkaitos had little hope of returning to the fray.

“Unfortunately, there’s no way to push him further. Those water dragons I was able to speak to before arriving here were all accounted for… If I could talk to another, it might be possible, but do you think we can escape from here?”

“Don’t joke around. Letting that songstress slip away would mean I’ve already lost one of my trump cards. For a second, I’d have to prepare.”

As she said this, Felt looked toward the elongated bundle she had clutched.

Wrapped in white cloth, it appeared to be a magical device that was once her “trump card” bestowed by her servant. It seemed that even Reinhardt couldn’t evade it, but it required somewhat troublesome procedures for its use and couldn’t be activated until that was fulfilled.

“Moreover, as for the songstress, you and I would not be able to escape. That guy seems to have targeted us specifically.”

“Honestly, that’s what I’d like to avoid most.”

At Felt’s words, Otto drooped his shoulders in frustration.

Yet, he couldn’t deny that their expressions, even amid fierce battles, bore the intensity of heated gazes cast toward him.

Batenkaitos exhaled heated breaths, frequently glancing towards Otto and friends with moist eyes and flushed cheeks. If one were to focus on that alone, it could easily be misconstrued as a colorful intent, yet the true meaning concealed within was merely the appetite of a famished and ferocious beast.

Simply put, they were merely suitable as prime cuts of dripping meat in the eyes of this wild beast. It wasn’t something to take pride in, but on this day, three people were suitable in Batenkaitos’s discerning eyes.

Otto, Felt, and the scruffy man directing the “White Dragon Scales”. He too was giving orders to his subordinates while rushing toward them to confront Batenkaitos.

The grim-looking man nodded, speaking quickly as he observed the state of the battlefield.

“I’m Dainas. Thanks for helping our young master escape earlier.”

“Thanks for that, but it was largely the efforts of Felt and the others. Moreover, helping Kiritaka escape carried significance for us to leave open our path to victory. With that…”

If Kiritaka, who had disengaged from this battlefield, was following Otto’s orders, perhaps another possibility might emerge. Though unfortunate, it was no more than a wish without certainty; still, no matter how it turned out, it shouldn’t spiral negatively.

There were plenty of means to achieve victory or profit. Ultimately, merely attaching oneself to one of those would bring in the win.

“——”

Quietly observing Otto, who spun his thoughts in constant circles, the man—Dainas, looked at him with slight astonishment before nodding.

“I see, it seems to align with what I’ve heard. As expected from the top administrator of Lady Emilia, the foremost expert on the Witch Cult. It seems like we can expect the same regarding the cooking methods of the Archbishop of Sin.”

“Thank you for the overestimation and exaggeration. But if I may ask, does anyone here know what the roles of an administrator are supposed to be? I can’t shake the feeling that there’s a discrepancy with my understanding of it…”

“Stop being a coward and don’t be so humble. Our administrator swings a big club too, you know. Isn’t that what an administrator does?”

The bad reputation of the role of an administrator was quite astonishing.

While he thought he was already resigned to being called an administrator in this year, he had not accepted the fact that it had transformed in its meaning.

What caused this? Was it the repeated encounters with disaster-like situations? Perhaps it was Subaru’s fault. He resolved to give him a smack on the head once he returned safely. That’s what he decided.

“Well then—”

Putting aside thoughts about the post-war matters for now, he decided to focus on the current situation.

In Otto’s line of sight, Batenkaitos crossed swords with the “White Dragon Scales” and Gaston repeatedly displayed his abnormal combat prowess.

What was puzzling was why he wouldn’t wield the dagger in his right arm.

“Aren’t you guys all adults? You can’t catch one little kid like this!? No good, no good, no good at all, right!?”

Batenkaitos bared his fangs, dodging the men with mere footwork. With fluid motions and outrageous body swings, the small blades hit nothing but air.

He demonstrated completely different techniques between his upper and lower body. Dainas, watching the strange display, suppressed a groan from the pit of his throat.

“Dainas?”

“Ah, no… sorry. The way he moves is just a bit… whoa!?”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared with that big body!”

Stumbling over his own thoughts, Dainas attempted to deny the ideas forming in his mind. Felt suddenly kicked him from behind.

As Dainas turned around, Felt puffed up her cheeks, glaring at him with eyes narrowed.

“Once you get in close, you just have to do it, right? Whether you can steal something or not doesn’t matter if you’re being chased. If you’re going to use anything that can help, you’ve got to use it, you get it?”

“Why are you thinking like a thief?”

At Felt’s advice, Otto tilted his head, but beside him, Dainas shook his head. He looked back at Felt, saying, “Indeed,” and added,

“This girl gets it. Say whatever comes to mind and find a breakthrough. For now, I must explain my feelings of discomfort…”

While calling her a girl, Dainas didn’t seem to realize that she was a candidate for the Royal Selection. However, considering it a trivial matter, Otto chose not to mention it and turned his attention to Dainas’s words.

“That Archbishop of Sin… although he appears to be a kid, both his fighting style and movements are simply too skilled. This isn’t merely based on physical abilities… there’s more to it.”

“—? There are exceptional fighters born with innate skills, right? Like Reinhardt and that other idiot?”

“The fact that Reinhardt is a valid comparison makes me want to raise the white flag.”

Felt’s knight and the strongest swordsman in the kingdom, Reinhardt.

Right now, he should be accompanying Subaru on the crusade against “Greed”. Yet, his strength was something Otto could feel even from just being alongside him, despite his pitiful knowledge of self-defense.

Just being beside him spun a feeling of absolute security alongside a burgeoning sense of awe. It was no mere empty title of the kingdom’s strongest. Perhaps even the title of the strongest on the ground wasn’t far off.

Conversely, the mere presence of Batenkaitos stirred a strong sense of abhorrence and discomfort. However, that feeling differed qualitatively from what he felt with Reinhardt.

Naturally, there was no denying the exceptional combat skills.

“This is different. I’ve lived through my share of battles, but… the way that brat fights cannot merely be explained by talent. It’s moving in a way that’s clearly cultivated through years of experience.”

Otto and Felt took another glance at Batenkaitos after Dainas’s words.

Just then, Batenkaitos successfully received a slash aimed at him with the raised blade of a small dagger. Grabbing the wrist of the man dealing the strike, he twirled his body, pulling him in before throwing him to the ground.

As the men rushing in for additional attacks launched themselves towards him, “Gluttony” glided along the cobbled stones, using his limbs in an elegant dance to unbalance and send them tumbling.

Indeed, there was a distinct refreshing power in the fluidity of his movements, setting it apart from the violent atmosphere that Batenkaitos surrounded himself with. It followed a certain martial arts system that he had mastered.

A boy who appeared to be merely fourteen or fifteen had perfectly mastered techniques that usually took years to develop—?

“Perhaps martial arts geniuses might be able to do that as well, but… I don’t want to believe that brat possesses that kind of talent.”

Dainas’s observations reflected the sheer prowess that Batenkaitos had honed. Simultaneously, Otto started to realize why one of the men clad in white, battling Batenkaitos, had leaked a mutter of envy; they discovered it sooner than Otto and the others.

“His handling of short blades, barehanded fighting style, flawless martial techniques…?”

Having made those observations, Otto began to doubt his theories. The thought that arose was purely, “Is it even possible for someone to reach that level?”

“——”

In the southern Volakia Empire, there were stories of individuals educated in how to fight by being thrown into the Colosseum as young slaves. If Batenkaitos had grown up in such an environment, it might not be impossible for him to have achieved this level of skill at his current age. Still, it was distinctly different from those combat techniques even if they were practical.

The way to hone that skill would be by training under a competent master and learning the techniques meticulously.

Or perhaps—

“To steal… or rather, to consume as sustenance?”

Otto had already heard from Subaru that “Gluttony” could devour the names and memories of others. In fact, he knew the appearance of a girl, consumed such that no one retained a memory of her, that girl was known as Rem.

Although it seemed unbelievable, he had no doubt that Batenkaitos could consume the unseen. Yet, he had never considered what happened to the ones consumed until now.

If, by any chance, “Gluttony” could accumulate and utilize the memories of those he fed upon.

He might be able to imitate the techniques of a martial artist who honed their art for over ten years, or the combat style of a warrior seasoned on the battlefield, and even replicate the attacks of the girl who had been supporting Subaru—

“Magic incoming!!”

“Gaston!”

“—El-Human!”

Electricity surged with a shocking intensity, and Otto began to shout in unison with Batenkaitos’s incantation.

The air froze with a crack, and the blocks of ice generated bludgeoned the members of “White Dragon Scales”, who had not anticipated that magical assault.

However, Gaston stood firm with his arms outstretched against the volley of ice blocks. The big man was still as reliable as ever, absorbing the raging hail of ice. The “White Dragon Scales” behind him dove in, reducing the damage they sustained. Still, they were not free from injury.

“Your judgment was good. It wasn’t as surprising as I thought.”

While watching Batenkaitos’s havoc, Gaston panted ragged breaths. The six members of “White Dragon Scales” hidden behind his back were injured. One was bleeding and curled up, and the other two were visibly injured. The remaining three were far from unscathed. Their combat strength halved, and—

“Given what you just said, maybe our plans have been exposed?”

“…Well, who knows.”

“Woah, you’re not suited for sneak attacks. Maybe you should quit being a merchant before you get hurt.”

In response to Otto’s desperate words, the next moment, Batenkaitos vanished from view.

No, he moved so swiftly and naturally that it felt like he had vanished. His small frame zipped past Gaston, slipping alongside the incapacitated “White Dragon Scales”.

Startled, the three who could still move leapt away, but it was too late for the injured trio.

“Asta. Lookfelt. Hix.”

In a whisper, Batenkaitos gently stroked the shoulders of the three members.

“What is happening?” All eyes widened at the sight unfolding before them, as the bodies of the three touched by Batenkaitos suddenly jolted.

Turning around, Batenkaitos raised the left hand he had touched and licked it,

“Pe-ro-ri.”

Instantly, Otto was engulfed by an overwhelming sense of unease.

Something had clearly happened, but he couldn’t comprehend it. And it wasn’t just troubling that something had occurred.

“Who is lying dead at his feet…?”

Otto pointed to where Batenkaitos stood, extending his tongue, delightfully licking his palm.

Three figures clad in white lie there at the feet of the boy who embodied malice. In that state, they had a look of fallen comrades, but who they truly were remained wrapped in mystery. Though one could guess by size that they were members of the “White Dragon Scales,” no one knew when they appeared or when they were taken down.

“Sad, sad, it’s sad, really sad. Even though our reunion is one-sided, we can’t help but feel unfulfilled.”

“Dainas! What’s with those three!?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen those faces before! But—!”

With the same attire as those three, declaring them to be complete strangers offered little believability. Yet, Dainas did not have the luxury to hide his intent.

He rushed forward, brandishing his twin blades at Batenkaitos.

“Stop it, Dainas. We have old ties. You’re just a step away from purifying your homeland, and yet you’re going to be fighting against comrades like this? How foolish.”

“—!? Where do you know that from!?”

Stepping over Dainas’s circumstances heedlessly, Batenkaitos swung his right blade high. Every slash from the small blade was effortlessly deflected with his single dagger. “Gluttony” struck Dainas, the force knocking the breath from him, but then exacerbated the situation as he fell to the ground, surprised at the sight of the three unknowns.

“Don’t cling to your vessel. What’s important is the heart and the essence, isn’t it? It’s not the outer appearance but the inner composition that makes a person who they are. We know your struggles, Dainas. You’re not to blame for not protecting Mirian or Meily. It was just bad luck.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! What do you know about me! Don’t say whatever you like! You rotten degenerate!”

Yelling furiously, Dainas forgot the pain of his injuries and charged at him again. The two blades whirled around, targeting Batenkaitos, but he simply dodged as if he already knew the received blows beforehand.

At that moment, Batenkaitos’s hand reached behind Dainas.

“Huh?”

“Don’t keep ignoring people!”

“No way! You idiot!”

From behind, Gaston latched onto Batenkaitos’s slender waist. Batenkaitos’s elbow crashed into his face, yet Gaston did not back down.

Then as he restrained the “Gluttony”, Felt leaped toward him with the elongated bundle clutched in both hands, smashing it against Batenkaitos’s vulnerable back of the head.

“Don’t get hurt over being called an idiot. We probably know more than you do.”

“Nugah!”

However, Datenkaitos, bending forward, redirected Felt’s strike with his short dagger, and in doing so, the force of her blow loomed bigger than expected, leaving her vulnerable in retaliation.

Dainas and Felt both revealed openings, everything was in the right position for Gaston to grab hold of him.

“Don’t let him get away, Gaston!”

“Remember this, you demon girl!”

Remaining latched upon Batenkaitos, Gaston prevented him from escaping the radius of the magic stone’s effects. The glowing magical stones became intensely bright, and soon the cobblestone beneath surged with explosive power.

With red and white light soaring up, the shockwave sent Felt tumbling towards Otto. Otto somehow managed to catch her, judging the range of the explosion.

The magical stone Otto had always carried along as an “just-in-case” measure had been prepared after his encounter with Garfiel in the “Sanctuary” in order to maintain his safety.

Although it was painful on his wallet, the effects were not to be underestimated.

“Are your companions alright!?”

“Hey, you underestimate our big guy. You don’t know what might happen if that old man finds out I let my master go through this kind of nonsense.”

“Don’t touch my head. Only Old Man Rom can do that.”

“Which is why I did it!”

Still with his hair all tousled, Gaston stood beside Felt. Dainas brandished his twin blades, while Otto counted the number of magical stones he had tucked into his sleeves.

Three in the left sleeve and two in the right. Five in total, must use them cautiously.

“You touch them with your left hand and you’ll end up devoured. Just think, the moment you get touched, it’s the end!”

“That sounds like a dumb level of difficulty just hearing it!”

“Being slashed at the vital points with a sword is still a single blow; if you get hit, that’s about the same losing probability.”

“Now that you mention it, you’re right,”

Felt murmured in agreement, and thus their preparations were complete.

Batenkaitos leisurely watched as they completed their setup. With a narrowed gaze directed at the uncouth behavior of this abomination in front of them, Otto took note of it.

“It’s not rude to wait for the meal to be served, right? Not to mention, while the man of bad eating habits might be an exception, we are the gourmet, you see. We have plenty of our own obsessions concerning meals.”

With only a few more words, Batenkaitos straightened up, offering a courteous bow.

Such an air of grandiosity masked by that familiarity shifted alongside his quaint behavior.

“Well then, let’s start over. I am Rai Batenkaitos, Archbishop of Sin, “Gluttony.””

“…………”

“Isn’t it common courtesy to return a name once it has been given?”

“I’m afraid there’s no idiot here who will return your name after such a conversation.”

According to the norms among warriors, once names were exchanged, it was the tradition to respond likewise.

Perhaps Batenkaitos had employed this norm, extracting the names of countless others and feasting upon them at his leisure.

Yet there was no reason for Otto to comply. Firmly rejecting that notion, “Gluttony” laughed and proclaimed,

“Well, that’s true. —Then, itadakimasu!”

At the cue of the meal, the small figure jumped forth to close the distance. This movement was distinct from anything displayed up until now, akin to a swiftly blowing wind.

Having only relied on footwork and slips to overcome the exchange thus far, Batenkaitos was now unleashing his true capabilities to actually hunt.

Otto, as a non-combatant, couldn’t react fast enough to follow his movement.

But the other three weren’t so fortunate.

“Don’t think you can outrun me in a race!”

Felt easily caught up to the wind-like speed of Batenkaitos. Immediately after lightly kicking off the cobblestones, she propelled herself forward like wind, surging ahead.

Surprisingly, her dexterity caused Batenkaitos’s initial offensive to swipe at nothing but air.

“—!?”

At that moment, both Dainas and Gaston struck at him simultaneously.

Dainas wielded his twin daggers, and Gaston held a small dagger he had picked up in his hands. In the face of their strikes, Batenkaitos opened his posture wide, dropping low to the ground as if defenseless.

Batenkaitos’s entire body turned as his legs went out behind him. With a kick of the surface, he deftly swept away the feet of the two men, knocking Dainas and the others off balance.

Then—

“Uwaah!”

“Huh!?”

As they cried out, the fourth participant, Otto, leapt to grab hold.

With this, Otto charged into close combat unexpectedly, catching Batenkaitos off guard; he seized hold of his body.

If only he could trap him like this—

However, just then, a sudden pain surged through Otto’s abdomen. Batenkaitos’s left fist had pierced through him, sending Otto rolling away uncontrollably.

“Geh! Co-off!”

“It’s important to know your place, just like there are bold and bland menus, you need to learn where you should fit in, older brother. Learn to treat the opponent properly…”

Right before Batenkaitos, whose movements caused two of them to stumble into disarray.

Dainas scooped up the rolling Otto, positioning himself protectively alongside the two others blocking their path, with Gaston nearby.

At that moment, Batenkaitos glanced down as he realized who sat at Otto’s clinging position—two shining magical stones dangling from him.

“Well, would you look at that!”

The movement to take them off was sluggish.

The moment Batenkaitos noticed the magic stones, they exploded in unison.

The fiery magic stone and the watery magic stone created a tandem.

Bright red-yellow light and cool blue-white light swelled simultaneously, engulfing Batenkaitos’s body in their brilliance and shock.

“—!!”

Being so close to the blaze of light, there was damage to Otto and his companions too.

Most of the shock was absorbed by Gaston, who served as the wall; still, the combined wave of force and heat rushed at Otto. His skin seared while some were frozen to the core.

After the surge of shock receded, the second epicenter looked dreadful. The surface of the cobblestones was gouged, revealing bare earth, with singed rags scattered across the area.

“Ah, this is just terrible. My best outfit is ruined.”

And yet again, as the battlefield blew apart, Batenkaitos had moved in a new location away from that epicenter.

However, it seemed he couldn’t walk away completely unscathed. The boy, his long hair blown by the gusts, muttered in an irritable tone as he surveyed his condition.

It turned out the ragged clothes left lying in the blast radius were indeed his own. Having lost the rag that had covered his entire body, the skin underneath was now visibly exposed.

“—Ugh.”

Otto couldn’t help but groan at the sight of Batenkaitos’s form.

Gaston and Dainas were similarly speechless, all frowning at the same sight in dismay.

—The exposed skin of the boy was covered in an ocean of scars.

Whip marks, branding scars from heated tools, marks carved in from blades, rough shaving impressions, gouges, teeth marks from beasts, bruises from savage beatings, a multitude of scars littered his body.

With only a waist wrap around him, the boy turned back, revealing his scar-covered body, and, noticing the frowns cast by Otto and the others, he grimaced in annoyance.

“Stripping a kid down like that, and you all react like this? That’s a bit hurtful. Aren’t adults into this type of thing?”

“…I don’t know about the adults around you, but generally, no one likes that.”

“Huh. So now you’re going to start feeling sorry for me? You all change your attitudes so readily; it’s why I can’t trust you guys!”

Spreading his arms wide to show off his injured body, Batenkaitos shouted in fury.

Otto’s face twisted in response to those words, while Dainas also wore a foul expression. However, the expressions of Felt and Gaston remained unfazed.

Felt looked at Otto’s grim face, letting out a sigh.

“Hey, hey, don’t start thinking weird things now. That sort of person is everywhere. There’s nothing special about it; it just wasn’t you or me.”

While twirling the bundle in her hands, Felt coldly dismissed the scene. There was not a single ounce of compassion in her eyes. Of course, Otto knew that the Archbishop of Sin was not born insane.

At least, seeing Batenkaitos’s body made it appear so.

“—It’s pointless to waste your imagination on something boring. You’ll only accumulate regret needlessly.”

“——”

Suddenly, a voice echoed from someone who had not previously been present in the plaza.

Automatically, everyone, including Batenkaitos, raised their faces.

The five gazes turned toward a single waterway bordering the plaza—where a girl, fluttering gracefully, came to land.

Dressed in a frilly gown, her cream-colored hair spun in curls, her perfectly composed face was familiar. With large round eyes, she surveyed the situation.

When her gaze locked on Otto, she sighed helplessly.

“The only one who should be lazy and careless is Subaru. Betty will only assist Subaru… this time, it’s just special treatment.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry for the trouble. But thank you.”

Otto felt an overwhelming wave of relief as soon as the girl’s stern words hit him; he wanted to collapse in relief.

That girl was one of the components Otto had woven into his “path to victory.”

“Well then, let’s clean up this ruckus quickly and go have Subaru hold me.”

While speaking in an apathetic tone, the girl waved her lifted hand.

No, she was a spirit. Moreover, among the spirits, she was the Great Spirit.

The contracted spirit of Natsuki Subaru, Beatrice—finally joining the fray as reinforcements.