The tavern was filled with a thick, intoxicating smell of alcohol and the earthy aroma from the dirt.

Stacked by the entrance were emptied bottles and barrels of liquor, alongside the remains of what once were humanoid clay figures.

Both piles had been made by two middle-aged men in the establishment, who were currently sharing jests.

“Oh? This gentleman looks familiar… is he perhaps the one with the red hair? Do you know the fellow they call ‘Fluffball’?”

“Who the hell are you calling ‘Fluffball’? Don’t mess with me! I’ve been running non-stop without food, and I’m damn tired…!”

Pounding his own thigh, the red-faced Grooby laughed heartily, while the blue-haired middle-aged man, gathering his hair back, began to laugh even more, as if he found Grooby’s distress entertaining.

It was clear he had indulged in too much alcohol.

The blue middle-aged man turned his attention to the other red-haired fellow who was sitting quietly on a chair, glaring at the bottle he held.

“Oi! You over there, red-head! Are you just as useless as this blue-haired idiot?”

“—”

“Don’t ignore me! Stop pretending to be silent and talk to me…”

“—Shut up.”

Just as he was about to speak, a flash of silver sliced through the air.

A horizontal slash aimed directly at Grooby’s neck passed inches away from him as he dodged while seated. It was a precise strike aimed at the vital spot.

Had the attacker not been Grooby, that strike could have been fatal.

“Who do you think you’re messing with, you bastard?!”

Dodging the sword strike that barely missed his nose, Grooby moved in closer. In that instant, Grooby’s fist struck the red middle-aged man’s side, sending him crashing against the wall with a shockwave.

A pained grunt escaped the red middle-aged man’s lips as his body spun through the air, unable to brace for the impact with the wall. Meanwhile, Grooby snatched a vertically spinning bottle of liquor from the air.

He gulped down the alcohol that the red middle-aged man had been drinking.

“Ugh! This burns like hell…! What I really want is water and food, though…”

“Brilliant, simply brilliant! I must say, you are quite the skilled one, Fluffball! The red-head is surely a formidable warrior, and yet he couldn’t even touch you—impressive!”

“Eh?”

The blue middle-aged man kneeled down, seemingly acknowledging defeat, while the red middle-aged man lay crumpled against the wall.

Praising Grooby’s prowess with a red face, the blue middle-aged man showed he had no intention to resist, deeply bowing his head.

“I apologize for the trouble we’ve caused, dear Fluffball! We are but wanderers, visiting this village. However, by the time we arrived, the place was already overrun by those dirt creatures, and the villagers had all vanished…”

“So, you guys had no choice but to drink the alcohol left by the dead, huh?”

“Indeed, embarrassingly enough! And as if that wasn’t enough, we started betting on whether the next dirt creature entering would be male or female!”

Laughing foolishly, the blue middle-aged man revealed their ridiculous betting game, as if it was a casual matter.

While foolish in nature, if the bets were placed on unattended alcohol and their own lives, Grooby had no issues with it. How one chooses to live and die is a man’s own business.

However—

“—I really don’t like this.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“You pretend to put down your swords and kneel, acting all peaceful, but my nose isn’t fooled. …Don’t you dare act like you’re not surveying the situation for a chance to kill me, you bastard.”

“—”

As Grooby sniffed and glared, the blue middle-aged man wore a troubled expression, scratching his cheek. Yet, he could not deny Grooby’s accusations, knowing that flimsy excuses could end up aggravating his anger.

This blue middle-aged man had been concealing his intent to kill Grooby all along, either before or right after his companion had been taken down.

Having dived into this place to escape the clay creatures, rather than rest, Grooby had entangled himself with troublesome opponents—only then did he realize.

“…I recognize your smell, you bastard.”

As he recalled the familiar scent, Grooby’s fur bristled in agitation.

One does not easily forget a scent once encountered. Coupled with the lingering murderous intent, he recognized the origin and, firing off the memory—

“—Are you the bastard father of that Cecil?”

Having voiced the memory that came to mind, Grooby gave a sharp glare at the man in front of him.

With Grooby’s piercing gaze, the blue middle-aged man grimaced.

“Ugh, you figured it out, huh?”

“You bastard! So you tried to kill me to keep that from coming out! What the hell is wrong with you?! And why the hell are you still alive? Didn’t Cecil slash you?!”

“Why do you even ask? I’m alive because I’m alive. But it would greatly inconvenience me if my existence were revealed.”

Shaking his head and answering nonchalantly, the blue middle-aged man was none other than Cecilus Segmunt’s father, one of the “Nine Divine Generals.”

Having interacted with Cecilus in the Crystal Palace several times, Grooby had crossed paths with him before, though it was believed he had died years ago for offending the royal family and had been slain by none other than his son.

“Since there are wanted posters out for me, I guess it was just a misunderstanding that I was dead.”

“Just because you’re not believed to be dead doesn’t mean that your son hasn’t screwed up. He’s supposed to be a damn strong swordsman, and if he failed, it’s just pathetic. You didn’t go easy on him just because you’re his father, did you?”

“—Not at all. That child does not have the ridiculous tendency to hold back out of familial bonds.”

“—”

Having received such a clear answer made Grooby retract the words he was about to fire back.

He didn’t know much about the relationship between the blue middle-aged man and Cecilus, but it was easy to imagine a man who raised Cecilus would be a real piece of work.

If he didn’t hold back the blade that struck his own father, it only reaffirmed that notion.

However—

“Damn…”

Having escaped from danger and finally come across a couple of drunks, one a wanted man and the other a nuisance, it was enough to curse his bad luck.

“Ugh, uggh…”

“Oh, the red-head is alive as well. Fluffball is quite kind.”

“…It’s not that I’m holding back. That red-head is just damn tough.”

The red middle-aged man, who had flipped over against the wall, was now drowning in his own vomit, courtesy of Grooby’s previous blow.

Even in his tattered state, Grooby could have easily knocked out both the red and blue middle-aged men, but—

“…It’s getting noisy outside.”

Murmered the blue middle-aged man, as he mentioned the unsettling smell of earth that was creeping into the village.

A large group seemed to be surrounding the hidden village to close in on Grooby, who picked up on the encroaching presence with his nose and couldn’t help but feel troubled.

He needed to kill both these middle-aged men, break through the encirclement with all his might, and find someone better than these drunks to procure food and water.

He doubted whether such an ideal was realistic. More importantly—

“…You bastards, let’s make a deal.”

“Please, go ahead and tell me.”

The blue middle-aged man knelt down, still holding his sword to the side, seriously.

It was ironic considering he had been trying to kill Grooby just moments ago while maintaining the same posture, but the murderous intent from him had faded.

Feeling aggravated at the blatant shift, Grooby said.

“I must return to my superiors at all costs. If I have to use your sorry asses to do it, so be it. So…”

“—”

“I will wipe your wanted status clean as one of the commanders, in exchange for your cooperation in helping me return to the Imperial Capital.”

This was a desperate plan for Grooby.

If he were in perfect condition, he wouldn’t even think about relying on a guy like this. But if he continued to stubbornly refuse, who would benefit from him falling instead?

“This bastard is the one who created this ridiculous situation.”

To be honest, there was a lot of intrigue behind this civil war shaking the Volakia Empire.

Regarding how he had been kept away from the Imperial Capital, there were valid reasons, but he still suspected Vincent had ulterior motives.

He had followed blindly, thinking he could trust Vincent’s judgment.

Now, to discover the answers to what he believed, Grooby needed to return.

“Decide whether or not you’re taking my deal, you bastard!”

With bared fangs, Grooby shouted, as the blue middle-aged man pondered, narrowing one eye.

Before he could arrive at an answer to the inscrutable man’s consideration, a loud noise erupted from behind him as the tavern door was broken down.

With the door crashing open, pale-faced dirt figures burst through. Just as their hands were about to reach the small Grooby’s back, a blade flashed.

The drawing of the sword sliced through the dirt figures, severing their heads and bodies, turning them back to mere clay.

The action had been carried out by the blue middle-aged man, who sheathed his drawn weapon in a natural motion and stood up. He stroked his rough jaw with his bare hand.

“How much will the bounty be in addition to wiping my name clean off the wanted list?”

“What a piece of work, you bastard…”

Receiving that presumptuous inquiry as an answer, Grooby let out a long sigh. Then, just as he felt his vision spinning—

“Damn it.”

He was swallowed by the unavoidable limits of his exhaustion, and his consciousness sank into dark waters.

“Good grief, to fall asleep while leaving the finer details for later, this Fluffball has quite the personality.”

Laying crumpled on the floor, slumped and snoring loudly, the small beastman, Grooby Gamuret, was stared down by the red-faced Rauan Segmunt, who tilted his head.

The conditions presented earlier should not be something Grooby could outright dismiss lightly.

Surely, they were worthwhile conditions to consider. Certainly, one could also opt to kill Grooby here and continue the escape.

“Doing such a thing would, of course, only bring misfortune upon oneself. Rather, it’s more positive to take this as my good fortune. —The third act of my life is about to begin!”

Stepping firmly on the ground, Rauan, while subtly noting the slight twinge in his left leg, reveled in the fact that he didn’t need to dread this moment.

However, surviving this encounter was the priority, so while sensing the approaching presence of the dirt creatures gathering around the tavern, he tossed Grooby over his shoulder.

With that, he kicked the upside-down figure of his drunken companion, Heinkel.

“Look, red-head, you’re awake! Things have changed!”

“Ugh, what…?”

“It’d feel terrible to leave you behind to sleep! If you’re at a dead end in life, why not gamble on one last sword strike with me?!”

Proclaiming with high spirits, Heinkel’s eyes opened slightly, fighting his reluctance, and when he took in the upside-down view of Rauan and Grooby, he wobbly regained his balance, disoriented.

“What the…? I feel sick…”

“Given the response from one commander, it seems it is a bit too extreme of an answer. Now, having drunk all the tavern has to offer, we should get ready to move onward.”

“…Are we eating that beastman?”

“Only if we’re in dire straits. At this time, that’s not on the agenda. Now then…”

Wiping his mouth dirty from the spilled alcohol with his sleeve, he patted the swaying Heinkel’s back. Then, readjusting the burden of Grooby, Rauan turned around.

In a surge, the dirt creatures flooded into the tavern. To counter their entry, as he drew his sword by one hand, Rauan laughed.

“Wait for us to live, you terrible sons of bitches. —The road to the Sky Sword still lies ahead!”

△▼△▼△▼△

—The two lights that could counter the might of the “Great Calamity.”

That is the prophecy bestowed by the “Star Reader” Ubiruku, who was bound by chains.

This prediction, allegedly made by the “Star Reader” revered in the Volakia Empire, had foretold several past events, which had hit Subaru hard.

To be honest, Subaru didn’t really believe in prophecies or foretellings.

In some ways, they appeared to him as a type of con that employed various psychological tricks. Of course, phenomena that disregard common sense can still happen in this other world.

Then again, one could argue that Subaru’s “Return by Death” could be seen as the outcome of avoiding a terrible future through foresight.

If possible, he wished he could just see the future without dying.

Regardless—

“…A girl who can’t understand words.”

She went so far as to correct herself not to say “Star Reader” and made an effort to accurately convey information.

Thinking of who that could refer to made Subaru hold his breath.

However, before he could inquire about her true meaning, Abel, standing beside him, fixed a cold gaze at Ubiruku while saying.

“One of the lights you spoke of, if it’s Grooby Gamuret, then he’s dead.”

“Eh?”

Ubiruku’s eyes widened in shock as a look of disbelief crossed his face after hearing the definitive claim.

Of course, it was inevitable. If the one who had been painstakingly talking about the prophecy suddenly claimed their subject was dead, anyone would react this way. Indeed, Subaru was taken aback as well by Abel’s assertion.

Ignoring the astonishment of Subaru and others, Abel lightly shrugged while keeping his arms crossed.

“What a letdown. To think the one who boasted about having the stars fated to him would deliver such news. This is a greater disappointment than expected.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Don’t say it like it’s a fact! It’s still unverified!”

“Fool. If there are no signs of reunion, he’s as good as dead.”

“Don’t conflate ‘as good as dead’ with ‘he’s dead’! You’ve got this nasty habit of jumping to worst-case scenarios and killing someone off in your mind!”

Scrapping with Abel, Subaru lashed out, realizing that even if he tricked Ubiruku here, it wouldn’t serve any real purpose, and this was a golden opportunity to respond.

After that exchange between Subaru and Abel, Ubiruku sighed with visible relief.

“Uh, I-I don’t feel very good. So I can assume that General Grooby is still alive. Is that alright?”

“Contact has been cut off for quite some time, and there were supposed movements headed west. If the one who was commanding has gone missing as well, approaching the discussion as if he’s dead would be the most constructive approach.”

“Constructive? As in, what are we constructing? A graveyard?”

As Subaru cheekily interrupted Abel’s statement, Abel’s gaze darkened. However, he saw no reason to retract his words, so Subaru simply stuck his tongue out and looked back at Ubiruku.

The credibility of the “Star Reader” remained unreassured.

“When Ubiruku spoke of the stars communicating, does that mean Grooby is definitely alive? If so, then convincing him won’t be difficult.”

“I’m terribly sorry, but what the stars provided was merely the points regarding personnel to oppose the ‘Great Calamity.’ Whether those individuals are alive or not is beyond my knowledge.”

“The strategies to counter the ‘Great Calamity’ held by Grooby Gamuret, if they’re in dead hands.”

Repeatedly insisting on the uncertainty of Grooby’s life was getting tedious, so Subaru ceased his corrections but noted that Abel’s commentary would carry significant weight in the future.

If belief in Ubiruku’s prophecy was a prerequisite, something special that only Grooby possessed must be critical to halting the catastrophic events.

Additionally—

“—Lui.”

If one of the two lights spoken of by Ubiruku was indeed Grooby Gamuret, then the other one was pointing to her.

The girl who had been transported to the Volakia Empire along with Subaru and Rem, facing numerous trials alongside them, had integrated into this Dragon Carriage—a girl with a notorious reputation even in this world, who was said to be essential in repelling the calamity.

There had to be something shared in common between Liu and Grooby that would prove effective in defeating the “enemy.”

“Grooby Gamuret is known as a ‘Curse Tool Master’ who has skills in both magic and curses, masterfully crafting gear infused with those techniques.”

Subaru probably followed a similar line of thought.

What Abel explained revealed Grooby’s unique skill that couldn’t be substituted by anyone else, which would lead to the cause for being chosen as a light.

“Since he’s one of the commanders, he’s certainly strong as well, right?”

“Undoubtedly. Without a doubt, he possesses exceptional abilities. Among the beastmen, his senses are uniquely acute, and when it comes to smell, nothing crosses the Empire that surpasses him. However, given the conditions laid forth by the ‘Star Reader,’ it’s not his prowess as a fighter that holds significance.”

“I get it. …Magic and curses, huh?”

Regarding magic, Beatrice and Roswaal had just recently achieved some successes.

It was almost certain that the existence of the core parasites lurking within the undead was central to the mechanism that created these undead beings.

However, the two were not included in what Ubiruku spoke of.

In short, the emphasis was not on being an excellent magician but rather—

“—Curses.”

Subaru and Abel simultaneously exclaimed, their dark eyes locking.

The fact that not just he, but Abel had arrived at the same conclusion further affirmed Subaru’s conviction. Undoubtedly, Grooby had been chosen specifically for curses related to countering the undead.

Through the application of a magical approach combined with a curse-based approach, they could strike a blow at the undead.

“Outside of Grooby, the only person I can think of with knowledge of curses is Orubaru Dunkelken. Gathering individuals with insight is crucial.”

“What about you? Bet the Beatrice has some insights, and as for me, I’m still under a curse. I wonder how much Roswaal and my sister know…?”

“—While some of that can be disregarded, we must extract their insights in due course.”

There was a rumor that the aftereffects of being bitten by the beast Urgalm and cursed still dwelled in Subaru, causing his body to harbor pain.

Fortunately, it had not shown any impact on his daily life, so he had left it be, but the uncertainty surrounding its nature elicited concern.

In any case, as Abel suggested, it was necessary to gather everyone knowledgeable about curses and reach the expertise that Grooby had undoubtedly given them.

As Subaru pondered, Abel quietly added, “—Beyond that.”

“—What advantages does that girl’s existence bring to the Empire? Do you have an answer?”

Of course, the topic now also drew attention to Lui, and Abel’s question pierced deeply.

“—”

Choking on his words, Subaru paused a moment before responding.

However, the pause turned into another beat, then another, and still, he could not find a clear answer.

Though the inquiry was straightforward, the realization that he didn’t have the answer was apparent and disconcerting.

“I once told you when we divided the Lingua. —I’m not intending to say you should immediately execute those who seem to be the Archbishop of Sin.”

Now taking over the conversation in place of Subaru, Abel advanced the discussion about Lui.

After that disgraceful brawl, Subaru and Abel had shared the Lingua, and during the dialogue, they had referenced Lui.

Abel had indeed stated that he would not punish her for her identity—but—

“That thought has not changed. —How you define that girl, it is not my role, but yours.”

“…Me, defining Lui?”

“It is you who is deeply involved with her actions, not me. If she entrusts her fate to anyone, it should be you, not me.”

As Subaru felt a thirst creeping in, Abel calmly stated this, turning his gaze back to Ubiruku.

“There is no error in what you heard from the stars, right? For opposing the ‘Great Calamity,’ the presence of that girl is indeed the key.”

“—Yes, my story remains as it is. Just like General Grooby, I cannot say what the stars acknowledged about that girl.”

Shouldering his chains with a shrug, Ubiruku reiterated the ongoing dilemma.

He did not know how it would sprout, what buds would appear, or what kind of flowers would bloom. Without knowing, he realized he couldn’t carry around the seeds that could neither blossom nor wither, just like Subaru felt.

Then, upon seeing Subaru agonizing over that reality, the callous Emperor, not even attempting to comprehend the pain of others said without mercy.

“Hurry up and reach a conclusion. If the taste of that Lingua and your grand words are not lies…”

△▼△▼△▼△

“—Subaru, did you hear the story you wanted to hear?”

Exiting Ubiruku’s imprisoned guest room, Subaru was greeted by Emilia, anxiously waiting for him.

It seemed that the existence of the “Star Reader” fell under classified information of the Volakia Empire, preventing anyone else from the kingdom from being present in the room.

Since Subaru had already been acquainted with Ubiruku, Abel must have also decided that it was warranted to share the discourse about the “Star Reader.”

“I can say I heard it, but then again, I couldn’t say I entirely did…”

“…That’s a vague answer. Are you saying it was just a waste of time?”

“I don’t think so.”

In the midst of his hesitation, Beatrice, who had approached to hold his hand, frowned in concern.

However, neither Beatrice nor Emilia, nor Otto and Garfiel, present as well, pressed Subaru for an answer.

He subtly felt that their kindness contrasted greatly with the Empire’s people, and he yearned to indulge in their warmth.

But—

“—That won’t do.”

He couldn’t maintain averted eyes any longer.

It was not only insincere, but they reached a point where the situation grew dire. More than anything, once he left these understanding people behind, it wouldn’t be Subaru who suffered the most.

So—

“Everyone, there’s something important that I want to discuss for the Empire.”

“Something you want to discuss with everyone?”

“Yeah.”

Nodding at Emilia, Subaru took a deep breath.

For those here, and perhaps for those who were not present, there was undoubtedly a subject that could not be passed over, a matter that absolutely needed addressing.

That was—

“—The Archbishop of Gluttony, Lui Arnebe.”