The rooftop of the massive fortress in Fortress City Garkla, still echoing with the aftermath of the fierce battle against the “Great Calamity,” had an unusually strange atmosphere enveloping it.

While the rooftop was designed to accommodate a considerable number of soldiers ready to fire arrows during emergencies, the presence of over a hundred people was entirely unexpected.

The sight of strong men huddled together suggested they were subjects of some form of punishment, which could easily cast a grim air over the surroundings. However, the expressions on their faces revealed no such despair; instead, a serious, earnest light shone in their eyes.

And, before their hundred-plus focused gazes, there was a gaping space.

There—

“—Peh.”

With a raspy sound, a black-haired boy spat blood pooled in his mouth onto the floor.

His face was slick with nosebleed, his eyelids swollen, and his head swayed unsteadily. It was obvious he was in a pitiful state, barely managing to stand. Despite being in this condition, the boy placed his hands on his knees, took a forceful step on the ground, and lifted his face.

—At that moment, a crushing blow slammed into his nose, sending him flying backward with a display unlike any he had experienced before.

He soared, rolled, and lay flat on his back.

Limping, arms and legs spread wide, one might think that with the accumulated injuries he wouldn’t be able to rise again—

“Not yet…”

It was the boy, sprawled out in a star shape, who overturned that perception.

Slowly lifting his upper body, he further smeared his mouth with fresh blood, yet he managed to rise from his spot and exhaled deeply.

And—

“—Ugh!”

Once more, he was savagely struck by his opponent’s fist.

△▼△▼△▼△

“This is my resolution. So please, don’t intervene.”

If I hadn’t been told this in advance, I would have rushed in immediately.

Yet, I stifled my feelings, biting my lips to respect his wish. That was all Beatrice could do for her partner, Natsuki Subaru, at that moment.

“—Ugh!”

The sharp impact rang out, and Subaru’s face was whipped sideways with a muffled groan. Struggling to remain on his feet, he bit down hard, facing forward once again.

A subsequent fist hammered into his nose, making him jerk backward. He was pushed back but—

“St-still… not… done…”

With blood dripping down, Subaru squeezed out a strained voice from his reddened, bloodshot eyes.

In response to that sound, the tattooed man, Vaits, who had continued to strike him over twenty times, twisted his fierce expression and raised his fist once more.

Once again, Subaru’s blood splattered as he was struck, further staining the floor of the fortress rooftop.

This had been repeated many times over the past few days and had been going on for over an hour just today.

“Subaru…”

At a glance, it seemed like a duel between Subaru and Vaits, but to call it a duel when one was being utterly beaten didn’t seem appropriate. Standing there like a statue, Subaru continued to take Vaits’ punches head-on.

And not only Beatrice, but also the others around—

“———”

Over a hundred people had gathered on the rooftop of the great fortress.

They all belonged to the Pleiades Battalion, who had become allies of Natsuki Subaru in this empire, and were also witnesses to this confrontation.

Thus, this ritual where Subaru was continually beaten—

“—‘Spalca’”

Beside Beatrice, the deer girl, Tanzer, murmured.

As she gazed at the same sight, Beatrice felt an uncomfortable prickle looking at Tanzer’s calm-faced profile, whose eyes were deep and unreadable.

It felt as though she was being told that she understood Subaru’s feelings, who was challenging the ritual known as “Spalca,” even more than Beatrice did.

Because, after all—

“…I don’t understand why Subaru has to do this.”

Subaru, who had forced this ritual onto himself, accepting to be brutally beaten for the sake of resolution.

Requested to witness this for the sake of his resolution, Beatrice stood there, suppressing a painful ache in her heart, thinking she could do nothing but fulfill that wish.

—The death of Priscilla Barielle became a wound for many who knew her.

Those whose wounds remained shallow began to suffer from that shallowness, while those whose wounds were deeply and painfully gouged were consumed with attending to wounds that bled and ached.

Sadly, Beatrice was one of those in the former category, while Subaru was decidedly in the latter.

“———”

When Subaru began this “Spalca,” he stated it was his resolution.

Having met the gladiators with his “childified” body, Subaru deceived and dragged them into the midst of turmoil, hoping to gather comrades for his cause.

Considering the ferocity of that battle and the significant role the battalion played, it was a certainty that without it, the damage would have escalated further, and perhaps Fortress City would have fallen.

Therefore, Subaru’s judgment and choices were indeed correct to save the empire.

It was precisely because he, of all people, could not forgive himself that he was seeking punishment like this—

“Ugh…”

A small hand was placed atop Beatrice’s hand gripping her skirt tightly.

Glancing over, it was Spica, who had reached out, worryingly peering at Beatrice. Her large eyes were filled with concern as she looked at Beatrice’s tense expression.

Seeing Spica worry about her, Beatrice felt pathetic.

She was the only one there, like Beatrice, who was unrelated to the Pleiades Battalion. Yet even now, she earnestly wished all her concerns were directed solely at Subaru.

“Did I do something bad, Spica, your—”

“—Oh, as I happen to wander here, there’s a commotion on the roof! Boss’s ‘Spalca’! What a perfectly organized beating today, it seems he’s really quite diligent!”

“———”

Just as Beatrice gripped Spica’s hand, a figure with a carefree tone and demeanor casually hopped over the roof’s fence to show his face at the site of the “Spalca.”

Though he sprang up to the nearly hundred-meter-high fortress rooftop with ease, this swordsman in a kimono—Cecilus Segmunt apparently had little regard for the common sense of such physical challenges.

“Cecilus-sama.”

Perched on the fence with one foot, balancing himself while peering over the “Spalca,” Cecilus smiled softly when called by Tanzer.

“Ah, Tanzer-san! It’s so refreshing to see you from this perspective. This state is my standard, whereas the past me that everyone knew back then was just a temporary form, and weird as it sounds, you’ve known me much longer as that, right?”

“Indeed. Even if my eye level changes with my body, my mental perspective remains unchanged, so honestly, it doesn’t feel all that different.”

“Haha, nice joke!”

Cecilus clapped with glee at Tanzer’s unenthusiastic reply. Then, his gaze shifted to Beatrice, and when her brow furrowed under his blue glare—

“Boss’s partner seems rather disgruntled.”

“…It’s only natural. There was no need for Subaru to go through all this.”

“Let’s refrain from discussing necessity. Taking it to the extreme, the worth and lack thereof of life are poor topics. Even if it isn’t necessary, there is reason. Even if you don’t have it, it’s evident that it resides within the boss.”

“———”

“Well, honestly, I think you’re taking this too seriously. You’ve deceived everyone in the battalion since Gladiator Island; it’s only fitting you apologize sincerely until you attain their forgiveness. That said, the battalion consists of hot-tempered gladiators, so this is the method you’ve resorted to, right?”

Cecilus rambled fluently, emphasizing his point by gesturing to the battered Subaru.

Annoyingly though, Cecilus’ observation was undeniably correct. —As he pointed out, Subaru enduring the beats from Vaits was his way to atone to the Pleiades Battalion.

The Pleiades Battalion comprised 931 members—meaning, 931 strikes of ritual purification.

Enduring Vaits’ blows on behalf of the battalion was the ritual Subaru had placed upon himself, “Spalca.”

“Even though it’s divided across days, that’s still 900 strikes, right? With that many punches, even I would die. It’s hard to believe that one would even consider a scenario of standing still to take such hits…”

“All in all, that brings the total to 256 strikes.”

“Got it, got it… it’s dizzying!”

Cecilus, hearing the count from Tanzer, casually expressed his thoughts without malice.

While Beatrice wanted to interject concerning his flippancy, she realized it would be futile. She abandoned that thought and held Spica’s hand, focusing solely on worrying for Subaru.

During this “Spalca,” Subaru had forbidden Beatrice from using healing magic.

Therefore, as soon as today’s “Spalca” concluded, she intended to rush over and use her mana to heal his wounds as quickly as possible.

“Cecilus.”

As Beatrice contemplated this, a heavy, stern voice called out to Cecilus.

A tall, heavily muscled man—Gustav focused his attention on Cecilus while surveying the view from the fence.

“Forgive me if I shall ask this, but where’s General Arakia?”

“There’s no reason for me to keep things from you, Gustav. It’s clear that the governance of Gladiator Island will be handed over to someone else, and she’ll take on an important position in the imperial capital, right? So, technically, there’s bound to be some chances for us to meet in the capital from now on. But since the situation in the capital is currently in such disarray, there’s a question of where she’ll live…”

“———”

“Oh, pardon me; I was meant to mention Anya. —She’s still struggling to balance her heart and body. That slender frame has absorbed a colossal spirit, and she needs emotional stability to enchant it. Yet, she lost her support, sister princess, which adds to her woes…”

“I can hardly comprehend the heartache and trials you must face. However, your role is vital to the survival of the empire. Not only is it expected of you, but the citizens of the empire are also counting on you.”

“What are you saying, Gustav? Don’t worry about me.”

“Hmm…”

“I’m a leading actor in this world, aren’t I? It’s only natural for me to bear the weight of someone’s expectations, including the empire’s. —And concerning Anya, I won’t cut any corners.”

Cecilus, who replied so casually, seemed oblivious to the gravity of phrase he spoke so lightly.

—Behind Cecilus, beyond the fortress rooftop, wide barren plains visible beyond the western castle walls bore numerous traces of strange phenomena still fresh.

It was proof that this calm-seeming Cecilus was cooperating with Arakia, who had absorbed the extraordinary power of the Four Great Spirits, to prevent her violent outburst.

Left unchecked, her tremendous power might have caused a second “Great Calamity.” But bearing it was no simple matter, especially with the current situation surrounding Arakia.

Consequently, that monumental role could only be fulfilled by Cecilus, as unlikely as it seemed.

“Regardless of whether one desires it or not, a person cannot stop walking forward. The only beings permitted to halt are the dead; the living must keep progressing. Anya’s anguish and the boss’s penitence share the same root. While it is painful, it is also something to welcome.”

“I can’t even let you speak of it as if it’s nothing.”

“Speaking of which, if Cecilus is holding a grudge against the emperor, then Subaru seems to have already settled it in his own way.”

“Really?!”

Cecilus exclaimed, his tone unable to disguise his utter surprise. For Beatrice, witnessing the disruption of Cecilus’ ever-impulsive rhythm was refreshing.

However, in that moment, Cecilus once again pondered aloud, “That’s interesting…”

“Surely, since it’s such an intriguing subject, I can only seek to learn afterward. But why then would you allow the boss to bring you here to the emperor, when you could have simply dismissed me like Tanzer?”

“That is…”

Caught off-guard by Cecilus’ inquiry, Subaru hesitated, casting furtive glances at Vincent.

Without needing to witness Subaru’s reactions, Beatrice was already aware of his inner turmoil. Though Subaru had been surrounded by the Pleiades Battalion and Beatrice over the past few days, a few individuals remained off-limits: Vincent, Yorna, and those associated with Priscilla.

Given Subaru’s excessive sense of responsibility, that was only natural, yet he still didn’t think it was for the best.

Thus, being forcibly escorted here by Cecilus was convenient for him.

This way—

“Finally showing your face in front of me, are you?”

“Abel…”

The dilemma, hesitations, and conglomeration of emotions swirled around within Subaru.

It seemed clear that the illustrious “Wise Emperor,” Vincent Volakia, could see right through him. Under that probing gaze, Subaru felt a weight pressing down on him.

But holding tightly to Beatrice’s hand, he steeled himself to meet that pressure head-on, opening his mouth.

“Abel, I—”

“—Just now, you claimed I speak out about matters resolved, didn’t you?”

“Huh…?”

“Yet from my perspective, you’re the one incessantly picking at issues that should be resolved.”

In the instant he heard those words, Subaru’s eyes widened in shock, losing the words he meant to retaliate with.

Momentarily stunned, he grappled with the implications behind Vincent’s statement. But the moment he registered the meaning, Subaru’s expression transformed into one drenched in both rage and sorrow.

“What are you talking about?! Issues resolved… what do you even mean?!”

“Most of the problems you’re entangled with now. Atonement to the gladiators counts as one, and your attitude toward both myself and Yorna Mishigure is another. Above all—”

“Stop!”

As Vincent sought to continue, Subaru lunged toward him vehemently, having risen from the sofa.

But a third party interjected—Cecilus.

Having slid off the desk, Cecilus stood in front of Subaru, blocking his advance toward Vincent.

“Don’t get in my way, Cecilus! I wanted to punch Abel!”

“Well, yes, that’s true. But what I want to see is ‘Spalca’ between you and the emperor; I’m not interested in something impulsive and trivial.”

“—Ugh!”

Exchanged glances filled with tension were cast between the two; both had returned to their original heights, placing them as adults.

Yet in this standoff, Beatrice felt less inclined to support Subaru than usual. Instead, she found herself leaning more towards Vincent, who was facing Subaru directly with his words.

It was a cruel expression and there were undoubtedly better ways to articulate it, but Vincent willfully chose words that cut deep with blood and pain—

“—Priscilla has already passed; the trauma of her death is a thing of the past.”

“Abel—!!”

With that declaration, Subaru’s voice pierced the air as he glared at Vincent vehemently. However, undeterred, Vincent held his ground under Subaru’s anguish, scrutinizing him through Cecilus.

The ones to falter at Subaru’s distress were Beatrice, Spica, and indeed, all the women present.

“Priscilla was… your sister… so why…”

“Indeed, she was my sister. Sharp and cheeky since her youth, I couldn’t correct that personality before she lost her life. Just like with Chisha, indeed losing Priscilla carved a wound in my heart. I shall not hide that.”

With a slow, deliberate shake of his head, Vincent spoke, his hand resting over his chest.

It was clear that there lay hidden feelings of both the agony of losing her and worry concealed beneath the pride of an emperor.

Subaru regretted that he had elicited those emotions in Vincent, which rendered him at a loss for words, unable to summon thoughts on what he should say.

However—

“—This is mine. You have no place to interfere.”

“———”

“What has transpired between Priscilla and I is not your concern. Do you seek to impose your will even there?”

“No… that’s not it. It’s not like that, but…”

Subaru stammered, feeling his words falter after Vincent’s pointed rebuke, eyes darting around searching for meaning.

In the midst of that, Vincent didn’t cease speaking.

Perhaps this was an investigation that only such a long connection between Subaru and Vincent could yield.

Vincent continued, quietly but firmly.

“Natsuki Subaru. —What last words did Priscilla leave for you?”

“———”

“If they were cursed words, then I’ll take what remains of you. But if they weren’t…”

“Please…!”

“And if they were something else altogether, what blossomed between you and Priscilla?”

“———”

“Take my sister’s farewell, and integrate it into your own flesh and blood. —That is the key to resolving that issue.”

What words to use. What should he do to atone.

These intertwined queries, alongside his distress that refused to allow him to halt, festered within Subaru over the past few days.

His very core was rooted in this misunderstanding.

“Priscilla, is…”

“What of her?”

“…She said I— was a true knight.”

“Then that was all she imparted to you. —It was a noble thing, Natsuki Subaru.”

“———”

With every syllable, the weightiness of Vincent’s words crushed down upon Subaru.

Rage and sorrow, that simmering outburst of passion behind his eyes welled up uncontrollably, resembling scalding water boiling over from a kettle.

Presumably, the words that he had failed to confront since witnessing Priscilla’s passing that morning.

“Subaru…”

“Bea, Beatrice… I am… I am…”

“It’s all right. I’m here, Beatrice… Beatrice, Emilia, and everyone else perfectly understands.”

As Subaru stood frozen, Beatrice drew near, taking his hand and nodding. Her sound words caused Subaru’s contorted face to crumple, his tears streaming forth uncontrollably.

Now finally, Beatrice was assured that her voice had truly reached Subaru since that morning.

“Wah…!”

Suddenly, just as Subaru thought he was kneeling, he found himself bowing, enveloping Beatrice in his embrace. In response, Beatrice wrapped her arms around him gently.

“—This isn’t like watching the emperor get beaten, but witnessing something good regardless.”

“All the more reason to stay quiet on that front,” Beatrice admonished.

“My apologies.”

Flashing a finger to his lips, Cecilus winked. Behind him, Medium, holding Spica, was shedding tears along with Subaru.

And amidst this tender moment, Beatrice realized she couldn’t comprehend the things now hidden from her view.

“———”

The one who upended Subaru had been Vincent Volakia, allowing a hint of softness to touch his gaze.

Even Beatrice, having spent little time with Vincent, sensed that—this was likely a face of the “Wise Emperor” seldom seen or displayed.

One who revered and honored those shedding tears for his cherished sister’s end.

 

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