Collapse rushes in.

The torrential downpour of fresh blood, with each droplet transforming into a fierce hand of destruction that ravages the city.

Where the blood droplets touch, structures lose their unity more helplessly than a blade on a piece of paper. The propagation of destruction brings buildings crashing down, and the aftermath spreads as the town is reduced to ruins.

“Oooooohhhh—!!”

“—!!”

Aware of the futility yet squeezing air from his lungs, Subaru continues to run with all his might. Beside him, Emilia runs at full speed, her silver hair flowing as she presses her lips tightly together.

However, the picturesque Water City is famously crisscrossed with waterways.

In simpler terms, securing a straight path for escape is indeed a challenge.

Before the two runners stretches a wide channel, threatening to swallow them whole from behind due to the destruction.

“This is bad!”

“It’s a last-ditch effort… Subaru, hold on!”

As Subaru cries out at the prospect of being trapped, Emilia immediately makes a different judgment. In the moment Subaru hesitantly connects their hands, the surrounding air is suffused with coldness.

Emilia’s short incantation, and at the same time, the small light points that begin to rise.

The simultaneous use of magic by Emilia, fueled by her own magical power and the strength of the minor spirits.

“—Everyone, please!”

As Emilia commands the minor spirits, a torrent of blue light surges from the points of light, racing along the ground.

Instantly, the ground beneath their feet turns white, and as they blink momentarily, a silvery world emerges. The streets freeze, and Subaru is nearly caught off-guard as his shoe soles slip dangerously.

In that moment of losing his balance, his body is suddenly pulled forward.

“Whoa!? Emilia-chan, amazing! So clever!”

“It’s hard to control, so don’t let go!”

Subaru finds his left hand clasped with Emilia’s right. And Emilia is grabbing hold of a ice pillar thrusting forward.

Freezing the ground and launching the ice pillars, she increases their speed of escape. Even more astonishing is the path crafted by the minor spirits’ icy magic.

A ramp like a ski jump forms at the edge of the wide channel, and with a burst of velocity, Subaru and Emilia glide, leaping over it.

“Iiiiyaah!”

On the other side of the channel, an icy path is created as they land, allowing them to continue gliding—Subaru is genuinely in awe of Emilia’s skill.

“Nice, Emilia-chan! I’ve fallen for you all over again!”

“But I don’t know how to stop! What do we do?”

“Huh?”

Emilia has already let go of the ice pillar, but even the remaining momentum would surely result in substantial damage if they crash against a wall. Emilia’s ice magic can’t conjure a cushion that could absorb the impact for both of them.

While they converse, a wall looms before them. As they almost collide, Subaru feels Emilia’s hand grip tighter, setting him into immediate action.

“Emilia-chan! Create a curve!”

“A curve?”

“Make a wall that gently bends! Curve around!”

Under Subaru’s desperate voice, Emilia’s magic obeys.

A gentle curve forms in front of the gliding pair, and they deftly avoid collision as they spiral around.

“Keep the curve going, around! Round!”

“G-guru-guru!”

Continuing on their wide spiral, the ice curve is maintained without breaking.

Seen from above, the ice wall is created in a shape reminiscent of a mosquito coil, and by the time their bodies reach the center, their momentum dissipates, allowing them to stop naturally.

“Phew, I’ve used up Emilia-chan’s magic well this time…”

“More importantly, the attack from earlier!”

As Subaru takes a breath, Emilia claps her hands, shattering the ice wall. Observing the shattered ice fragments transform into particles of mana, Subaru focuses on the onslaught of destruction looming over them, sending shivers down his spine.

Centered around the tower from which Regulus’s attack began, the city’s landscape has completely changed.

Especially the devastation in the center, heavily impacted by the bloodshed, is dreadful. While the traces of destruction scatter as the impact spreads, the number of buildings retaining their form is shockingly low. It’s a reminder of the extraordinary offensive power at play.

The attack directed towards Subaru and the others also reaches across the wide channel. They barely avoid the worst, thanks to a mix of luck and desperate running—no.

“That’s Reinhardt!”

No one is seen atop the building where Regulus had stood moments ago.

Instead, thick smoke billows nearby, and the tremendous sounds of destruction echo.

Regulus, laughing as he tears apart a water dragon’s corpse, spreads its blood.

Below, the two small figures desperately fleeing the streets are visible.

So diminutive, so insignificant, truly trivial.

Mockingly laughing, he anticipates the moment when the rained blood overwhelms the city and catches up with the fleeing duo.

A rain of blood suitable for the deaths of a whore and a rapist.

“Scatter! Splatter! You vile people who toyed with my heart!”

“—I’m sorry, but that’s not going to work.”

Right after the anger and taste of victory fills the air, Regulus flinches at the voice that whispers near his ear.

Turning, he catches a glimpse of red hair, as if the wind fueled the flames further.

“How absurd, you! Just how fervently are you trying to meddle in someone’s love life?”

“As long as it’s done right, respects their will, and you can promise to gracefully step back when turned down, I don’t mind cheering them on.”

In response to Regulus’s angry shout, Reinhardt smiles with a teasing manner.

How infuriating that he remains unfazed, yet at that moment, Regulus is consumed by an inexplicable dread—specifically, the fact that Reinhardt had just leaped in one bound.

That right foot, indeed, should have been busting apart near his shin.

It wasn’t severed, but it was in such a state that it was barely held together by skin from the ankle down, leaving him unfit for battle or even walking.

To come out of that state means—

“How annoyingly cocky. Not only in swordsmanship but also proficient in healing magic? With all these talents that bestow greater blessings upon you, just how much have you trampled on the hearts of others? Must feel fantastic to crush others’ spirits without even trying!”

“I’ll make one thing clear: you’re mistaken.”

As he twists in mid-air, Reinhardt’s body spins, whipping the wind.

The kick he unleashes cuts through the air and strikes the skeleton of the water dragon that Regulus had been swinging, exploding what had already been reduced to a mere hunk of flesh—

“Huh!?”

“I can’t even use healing magic, let alone any of that. My foot’s injury was hastily healed by the minor spirits in the air looking out for me.”

Just as it seemed that his foot would demolish the carcass, with a twist of his ankle, he flicked the water dragon’s remains from Regulus’s clasp. The remains were deftly tossed onto the half-collapsed roof of a nearby building.

Then—

“Perfect timing. —Next step, execute Operation J.”

“Wha—!?”

Just as Regulus grits his teeth in anger over Reinhardt’s hypocritical actions, the hilt of the dragon sword crashes into the side of his head again. Bludgeoned, Regulus’s body is sent tumbling off the tower.

Descending diagonally towards the ground, Regulus hears—

“Let’s give this a try.”

“—!?”

Jumping as fast as a bullet, Reinhardt catches up to Regulus in mid-air. While Regulus tumbles backward, Reinhardt grasps his ankle, capturing him with his movement.

Accompanied by a tremendous gale and acceleration that could sweep any mere mortal from their feet, Reinhardt leaps towards the same direction Subaru and company are escaping.

“What the heck—!”

“It’s not anything special.”

While saying so, Reinhardt hoists up Regulus’s body.

It’s like a kid playing rough with a doll. Just as Regulus’s rage about to explode from being treated like this, he finally understands the full extent of Reinhardt’s actions.

Whirling Regulus’s body, Reinhardt slams him into the falling droplets of blood.

Blood that owes its destructive power to Regulus, which could even crumble stone structures.

If Regulus’s attack bestowed non-impairment effects upon everything it contacted, then theoretically, it could even penetrate the invulnerability that shielded Regulus himself.

To think such reasoning could be so naïve.

“You think if it’s your attack, you’d receive it too? I don’t know how divinely favored you are, but you really should reign in your bad habit of unjustly labeling others. There’s no way I’d fall to such a ridiculous method as this!”

“No effect—!”

The droplets of blood that touch Regulus are cast off as mere droplets, unable to affect him.

Naturally. The priorities are different.

Simultaneously, Reinhardt quickly lets go of Regulus’s foot.

Sharp instincts. If he had kept his hand there without having any form of protection, Regulus’s palm would’ve likely been turned into mush.

The influence of the whipping motion dissipates. Regulus lands on the street, staring back at Reinhardt again, cautioningly narrowing his eyes.

“It seems you’re not able to touch me again.”

“You sure do have keen senses, yet do you want to suffer again, just like before?”

“Next time, I’ll keep my breath and gaze cautious. If there are other instructions, I’d like to hear them.”

“Get lost immediately from my sight!!”

As Regulus lunges forward, thrusting both hands towards Reinhardt, he swiftly circles out of the way with blinding speed. Even while maintaining a significant distance, he begins to deliver strikes with the dragon sword.

“Never stop hopping around, huh…!”

“A problem that can’t be solved with cutting is one I’m completely powerless against. I’ll be ashamed.”

“You haven’t even drawn your sword once!”

Reaching out erratically for Reinhardt, Regulus attempts to strike.

However, there was no way such crude attacks would reach the hero Reinhardt. Instead, Reinhardt’s blue eyes glimmer with understanding, watching over Regulus’s schemes, as both circled each other with no decisive blows landing.

“Huh?”

Just then, an unexpected intrusion occurs.

Standing immobile against Reinhardt, Regulus suddenly sees an ice pillar shoot up from directly beneath him, aiming to skewer him.

But before the ice spikes can fully emerge from his shoes, they are stomped into pieces and shattered before forming.

Briefly glancing over, Regulus sees a silver-haired girl pointing from across the waterway. It’s clear the ice methods are her handiwork.

Agitated, he feels a boiling rage inside.

“All of you need to finally understand! You can’t just do this because you want to! Everyone is born with different abilities! None of you stand a chance against me, perfected as I am! Accept your shortcomings, be satisfied, and die!”

It irks him to no end to deal with those who refuse to concede.

The absolute gap doesn’t close. Why cannot they grasp that?

“—Operation A has failed. What will happen next?”

Regulus stomps his feet, shattering the streets, without an inkling of Reinhardt’s mutters reaching his ears.

“No way! That current attack seems completely ineffective!”

“Is it no good!? So, that means the weak point could be his feet…”

Following Subaru’s orders, Emilia attacks Regulus’s foot—however, the ice pillars are stomped flat beneath him, offering zero damage.

“Operation J didn’t work either. Sorry, I’m just not strong enough.”

For a moment, the telepathy from Reinhardt via “Communication of the Divine” reaches Subaru, who has now lost his shock at Reinhardt’s extraordinary capabilities. Upon inspection, it appears that the cut on his right foot is already healed, and if it looked like it had just been reattached, Subaru wouldn’t be surprised at all.

“The plan was predicated on Operation A (the feet) being effective since touching the ground could mean the barrier is lifting…”

Supposing the mechanism preventing the invulnerability from breaching at contact points, it could mean his body might actually sink into the ground. It was a hunch, but that too seems unfounded.

Given the communication about the failure of Operation J (Self-destruct) and noting that it likely was a significant strike against Regulus’ own invulnerable offensive capabilities, it seems almost all presupposed vulnerabilities of his invincibility have proven wrong.

“Is there anything else? A vulnerability on this supposedly invulnerable enemy…”

Placing a hand on his mouth, Subaru desperately spins his thoughts.

He recalls the encounters before and after clashing with Regulus, the actions, words, and their attacks, seeking any means to dismantle that so-called “ultimate shield.”

Subaru’s memory races through various bits of subculture knowledge, striving to yield an answer but yielding nothing fruitful.

“Is it my line of thought that’s wrong? Is my perspective skewed?”

What he needs isn’t necessarily a method to breach this invincible ability.

It is a more fundamental understanding—what exactly is Regulus’s authority?

“Subaru, what else can you do? What should I do?”

Emilia questions Subaru deep in thought.

Just across the wide channel, the violent battle between Reinhardt and Regulus rages on, but she feels utterly helpless not being able to contribute to their assistance.

Both Emilia and Reinhardt trust Subaru and have high hopes pinned on him.

And it’s not just the two here; comrades battling at other Control Towers and the citizens of the city who answered Subaru’s call share the same sentiment.

“――――”

Think, think, think, think, think, think.

Abysmal memories rush back from the first encounter with Regulus to this very moment, reflecting on his behaviors and expressions, recalling everything that transpired.

There’s something there, some reason to find. Not only Regulus but also the other Archbishops—they must possess something. They’re all scum; he knows that. Not just that—

“Names of the stars…”

“Subaru?”

It suddenly dawns on Subaru.

Having reached the same thought earlier only to discard it as nonsense, he now reconsiders whether it could hold merit.

Regulus, Capella, Alphard, Sirius, Petelgeuse.

With all these names intrinsically linked to stars showing up coincidentally—can that truly be brushed aside?

Recall Water’s Feather Robe Inn, Kararagi customs, and the desolate Hoshin.

The influence of the world where Subaru lived exists here in unshakeable ways that can’t be laughed off. How could there be no connection to the Witch Cult?

Petelgeuse is Betelgeuse. “The Hand of Jauzar,” “The Unseen Hand.”

Regulus is the Lion, “The Little King.” And there’s yet another title.

“The Little King” suits him perfectly, but—

“Emilia, I have something to ask.”

At Subaru’s quiet voice, Emilia’s eyes widen, nodding in response.

Feeling the white mask gaze back at him seriously, Subaru closes one eye.

“You were held by his neck, right? At that time…”

“Yeah.”

“Was Regulus’s hand hot? Or cold?”

“――――”

Emilia’s eyes widen at the question posed by Subaru.

She touches her slender neck, pausing a beat before answering.

“Um, thinking back now… I didn’t feel anything. Neither warmth nor cold; no heat whatsoever.”

Hearing Emilia’s reply leaves Subaru breathless.

Dropped into the waterway, unaffected breath, and a body that remains dry. Attacks intended for his feet and any aimed at him don’t breach—no flaws exist in his offensive or defensive capabilities.

If this isn’t simply “invincibility,” then—

“Reinhardt!”

Calling out the hero’s name as he faces the fiend across the wide channel.

In the fervor of unyielding offense, Reinhardt’s eyes turn to Subaru.

Raising his voice so it’ll reach, Subaru shouts.

“—Make sure his heart is still beating!”

At Subaru’s overpowering yell, Emilia and Reinhardt gasp wide-eyed.

And Regulus—

Regulus—

※※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※

After confirming the simultaneous assault on the four Control Towers, Otto steps out of the City Hall to fulfill the role assigned to him.

“Truth be told, I should probably stop this… but I do want to clarify the location of that ‘Grimoire of Wisdom’ the Witch Cult is after. What a raw deal for you, Otto-kun.”

These were Anastasia’s parting words as she watched Otto depart.

Deep down, Anastasia likely wanted Otto to remain in the City Hall. The arena where those aligned against the Archbishops clashed was rife with peril.

Given that the City Hall was expected to serve as a command center, having more minds to process information gathered from all over was beneficial.

However, relying on others for the retrieval of the “Grimoire of Wisdom” was also a complex situation.

While they were collaborating to counter the Archbishops, there would come a time when they would revert to being enemies. If that happened, it would be unwise to let the power of the “Grimoire of Wisdom” be laid bare before their adversaries.

Frankly, he even wanted to avoid bringing up the effectiveness of the “Grimoire of Wisdom” in the discussion altogether—but there was no way Subaru or Garfiel would accept such tactics.

Sighing, Otto couldn’t help but feel he was being somewhat sinister.

“When did I start running around for others like this…”

Placing a hand on his gray head, Otto again grapples with the questions he’s pondered time and time again over this past year.

His unexpected position, unexpected relationships, and his emotions felt abnormal.

How would his family react if they knew he was caught up in all of this?

“If all goes well, should I pen a letter…”

If Subaru were here, he’d undoubtedly call out “Death Flag” for that statement, but Otto murmured as he stepped toward the Third Street.

The Archbishops should be focused on the Control Towers, and according to his deductions, the Witch Cultists shouldn’t be positioned in the city. They shouldn’t be.

“Hmm… ha.”

Gripping his chest tight, Otto sensed his heartbeat quicken.

The Witch Cult, the Archbishops, and the Witch Cultists—all of it tethered unfailingly to memories of terror for Otto.

The memories of his encounter with Subaru and the others a year ago were inextricably linked to nearly losing his life. The horror of the Archbishop he met then still haunts him fresh.

The eyes of that madman who thinks nothing of taking lives.

The fanatics who, under him, offer up blood and flesh with no mind of their own.

The silence that enveloped him as he desperately wished for someone to rescue him, rendering only to the isolating stillness.

He had never felt such fear or emptiness.

Comparing that to his experience facing Garfiel, confronting the gut-ripper, or encountering a horde of beasts, it paled in comparison.

His encounters with the Witch Cult cast long, dark shadows on Otto’s heart.

As fearful as he was, the grasp of their hand never truly slipped away.

Thanks to the similarities linked to the “Witch of Envy,” Emilia would invariably invite accusations from the witches.

The fate that binds Subaru, who was summoned as her knight to engage the Witch Cult aiming for the half-demon.

Beatrice, who devotes everything to stand alongside Subaru’s fate.

Garfiel, pouring all his strength into his fists to protect his family.

Ram, whose harsh tongue belies a soft heart who wouldn’t abandon anyone.

Frederica, who carries the weight of obligations and debts to her younger brother.

Petra, who, despite being treated as a child, puts on a brave face for everyone’s smiles.

He loved them all.

He had resolved not to become too attached, only to find himself too comfortable too soon.

Knowing he would encounter the terrible, he found it hard to part from their side.

For the sake of protecting this place, alongside them, he wished to crush even the symbols of fear and fulfill anything they needed.

So—

“Somehow, I must fulfill my role.”

As Otto entered Third Street, he voiced this fervently.

Before him stood a small silhouette.

Beyond the stone bridge over the waterway lay a plaza, with that small figure waiting there.

Besides that shadow, Otto noticed multiple other figures around.

But at this moment, Otto’s unwavering gaze was fixed solely on that small shadow.

The sound had vanished. It was eerily quiet; nothing could be heard.

Living beings held their breath, desperately seeking to conceal their existence.

Otto Suwen recognized this situation.

Hence, even as the figure before him dropped both hands languidly, their long, dark brown hair tousled as they lifted their gaze, his heartbeat remained surprisingly calm.

“Welcome, big brother.”

“———”

“Witch Cult Archbishop, in charge of ‘Gluttony’… welcome to the feeding grounds of Rai Batenkaitos!”

With a mouth full of teeth, the Visage of the Archbishop, who shouldn’t be there, grinned ominously.