...
{3rd Pov}
Rem and Otto stood frozen, staring at the gigantic corpse of the White Whale sprawled across the ground.
The sheer size of the creature made the scene feel unreal, like something torn out of a nightmare.
Its massive, mutilated body lay motionless, and its severed head rested several meters away, separated from the neck in a way that clearly showed it had been snapped apart by some unimaginable force.
The ground beneath it was soaked red, a vast pool of blood spreading outward, the air thick with the stench of death and dust.
Neither of them could speak for a moment.
Their minds simply refused to register what their eyes were showing them.
The monster that had haunted the world for centuries—the same creature that had killed the previous Sword Saint, the one that no army or hero could defeat—was now lying dead before them.
And the only thing Subaru had done… was snap his fingers.
That one simple gesture.
No grand explosion, no blinding light, no spell chant.
Just a sound—snap!—and in the very next instant, the world's most terrifying creature had been slaughtered like an insect.
Otto's mouth hung open, trembling slightly as he pointed at the distant corpse.
"W-What… What did I just witness?!" His voice cracked.
"There's… there's no way that's even possible! That's the White Whale! People have died trying to kill that thing—whole battalions wiped out—and yet…!" He stopped, realizing he had no explanation to finish the sentence.
Rem was equally stunned, her hands clutching her morning star so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
Her gaze shifted from the enormous corpse to Subaru, who stood there in silence, looking calm and unbothered as if what had just happened was the most natural thing in the world.
"S-Subaru-kun…" Rem stuttered softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
She wasn't even sure what she was asking.
Her eyes searched his expression desperately for answers, for some clue that could make sense of what she had just witnessed.
"Was… was that really you?"
But no matter how much she looked at him, she couldn't reconcile what she saw.
The Subaru she knew—the Subaru she loved—was someone brave, someone who would never back down from protecting others, even when trembling with fear.
He was kind, reckless, and full of passion, yes… but he was also weak.
Physically, he was just slightly stronger than the average man, and his magic gate—already fragile—was almost damaged beyond repair.
He couldn't even cast minor spells without collapsing from exhaustion.
So how… how could this Subaru, the Subaru she held so dear, have possibly killed something that even the Sword Saint had failed to defeat?
Her heart pounded.
Her lips trembled.
Part of her wanted to believe it wasn't him—that maybe some divine miracle had intervened.
But deep down, she knew better.
She had seen his calm expression, his unshaken stance, the way he looked at the White Whale's corpse without surprise or satisfaction—just cold acknowledgment.
That wasn't luck.
That wasn't coincidence.
Something inside Subaru had changed… and Rem wasn't sure whether to be in awe, or to be afraid.
"Indeed, I killed it," Subaru said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone as he slowly began walking toward the massive corpse of the White Whale.
Each step he took echoed faintly across the blood-soaked ground, his boots squelching against the mud mixed with the monster's remains.
The sheer composure in his voice, the utter lack of hesitation, sent a chill crawling down Otto's spine.
Otto's breathing grew uneven.
His knees wobbled, and before he realized it, he had stumbled backward and fallen onto the dirt.
He stared at Subaru with wide, trembling eyes, his hand instinctively pointing toward the young man as words stumbled out of his mouth.
"W-What kind of… of monster are you?!" he shouted, his voice breaking between fear and disbelief.
Subaru didn't react immediately.
Instead, he crouched down beside the White Whale's massive head, pulling out a small knife from his pocket.
Without saying another word, he pressed the blade against the creature's pale, lifeless skin and began carving into it.
The sharp metal screeched softly as he etched letters into its flesh—his name, written clearly in the language of this world.
Otto flinched at the sound, every stroke of the knife making his heart beat faster.
"Monster?" Subaru finally said, his voice steady and emotionless.
He didn't even look back at Otto as he continued carving, his movements precise and deliberate.
When he finished, he stood up and turned around slowly, his knife glinting faintly in the sunlight now tinted by the haze of fog and blood.
His eyes—cold, piercing, and devoid of any warmth—met Otto's terrified gaze.
"You should be careful before you throw around that word," Subaru said, his tone sharp enough to cut through the air.
"Because you never truly know what kind of monsters people really are—or what they've done simply because they can do."
Otto swallowed hard, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.
The way Subaru said those words… there was something real in them, something that carried the weight of experience—like he wasn't speaking theoretically, but from personal knowledge.
Otto didn't dare to question him further.
"I–I want to leav—" Otto began, but he stopped mid-sentence when Subaru turned his gaze toward him again.
That smile—calm, almost friendly on the surface—made his blood run cold.
There was something wrong about it, something that screamed danger beneath the veneer of politeness.
Otto's instincts kicked in instantly.
"I mean, yes! Let's… let's head to our destination right away!" he stammered, forcing a nervous laugh as he scrambled back to his feet, brushing off the dirt from his clothes and avoiding Subaru's eyes completely.
Subaru didn't respond.
He simply sheathed his knife and looked toward Rem, who was standing a short distance away.
Her expression was conflicted—her lips pressed tightly together, her brows furrowed, and her eyes glimmering with a mix of concern, confusion, and a hint of fear she tried to suppress.
She bit her lip, holding back the dozens of questions racing through her mind.
'How…?', she thought.
'How was Subaru-kun able to kill the White Whale so easily?'
The very same beast that had terrorized nations for centuries, slain heroes, and survived countless attempts on its life—Subaru had ended it with barely any effort.
Her heart ached with both admiration and dread.
'Just how… did he become so powerful?'
And perhaps more importantly… what did it cost him to gain that power?
"You're wondering how I managed to kill that thing, aren't you?" Subaru asked suddenly, his tone calm yet sharp enough to make Rem stiffen in surprise.
"Maybe you're even thinking I was pretending to be weak all along?"
Rem's eyes widened slightly, and she instinctively shook her head.
"No! Rem doesn't doubt Subaru-kun's intentions," she said quickly, her voice laced with earnestness.
"However…" She hesitated for a moment before continuing, her gaze steady but filled with curiosity.
"Rem does wonder how Subaru-kun became so strong. It all feels… impossible."
Subaru sighed softly, his expression relaxing into a small smile—not the confident grin he wore earlier, but something quieter, more grounded.
"Well," he began, glancing briefly at the enormous corpse of the White Whale lying in the distance, "let's just say I made a contract with someone… someone who's really, really powerful."
Rem blinked, her lips parting slightly, but she didn't ask further.
If Subaru trusted her enough to reveal that much, she would not betray that trust by pushing for more.
That was just who she was.
She knew that if there was more he wanted her to know, he'd tell her when the time came.
She gave a gentle nod instead, her blue hair swaying slightly as the wind blew across the battlefield.
Subaru's gaze softened when he saw her quiet acceptance.
For a moment, everything around them—the blood, the fog, the lingering stench of death—seemed to fade away.
'So that's why…' Rem thought silently, her eyes turning toward the dead White Whale once more.
'That's why Subaru-kun looked so relieved when he came back then… He wasn't just happy; he had found strength. Strength to protect what he cares for.'
Her gaze lingered on Subaru's back, her heart swelling with pride and admiration.
With such strength, she thought as she clenched her hands over her chest, my hero… won't ever have to face humiliation again.
And as she watched him standing tall before the fallen beast, Rem's belief only deepened.
No matter how much the world changed, no matter what power Subaru had gained or who he had made a contract with—he was still her Subaru-kun.
The man she swore to stand beside, no matter how terrifying or miraculous his strength became.
Rem knew all too well the humiliation Subaru had suffered at the hands of Julius.
She remembered how Subaru had stood up for Lady Emilia during the Royal Selection, his heart burning with conviction, only to be met with ridicule and scorn.
The man she admired had been treated as a fool for defending what he believed in, and though his intentions were pure, the world had laughed at him.
She had seen the pain in his eyes that day—the frustration, the helplessness, and the crushing weight of failure that followed him afterward.
He had stood alone, ridiculed by nobles, ignored by knights, and pitied by onlookers who couldn't see the courage behind his reckless actions.
Rem had wanted nothing more than to stand beside him—to shout to the world that her hero was not some pathetic fool, but a man worthy of admiration and respect.
But she knew her place in that cruel, hierarchical world.
She was just a maid, a servant with no status or voice.
Worse still, she was a demi-human—a race already looked down upon by many.
If she had spoken out later, if she had tried to defend Subaru in front of those people, it would have only made things worse for him.
The nobles would have mocked him further, sneering that the only one who stood by him was a lowly maid.
And if Lord Roswaal had grown displeased by her behavior, both she and Ram could have faced punishment.
She couldn't risk that—not when her sister depended on her, not when Subaru still had a long path ahead.
That was why Rem had made her decision.
She would help her hero not by shouting in the open, but by standing quietly at his side.
She would support him, guide him, and remind him that this humiliation, this pain—it was only a small setback.
Nothing more than a momentary obstacle for the man she believed in.
Because to Rem, Subaru was not someone who would stay defeated.
He was someone who would rise again, no matter how many times he fell.
She believed with her whole heart that as long as Subaru kept moving forward, one day the entire world would recognize him—their laughter would turn to awe, and everyone would see the hero that she already saw.
But now… watching him stand before the corpse of the White Whale, his expression calm and unwavering, Rem felt that perhaps that day was going to come far sooner than anyone could have imagined.
What she didn't know, however, was the truth—the cruel irony of fate that she was standing beside a man who existed in extremes.
Because right now, despite being the weakest person in this world in body, he was also its strongest in power.
A being whose existence defied logic and balance.
Someone whom even Reinhardt van Astrea—the Sword Saint himself—might be able to kill, but would never truly be able to defeat.
…
It was early dawn when Subaru finally arrived at Arlam Village.
The sky was painted in a dull orange hue, and the faint traces of mist still clung to the ground.
He was exhausted—both mentally and physically—but his expression carried not fatigue, but grim determination.
The plan he had meticulously formed, to use the merchant caravan as a means to evacuate the villagers safely, had completely collapsed.
Almost every merchant had perished, courtesy of the White Whale's sudden and brutal appearance.
Still, Subaru refused to stop.
He knew the Witch Cult's attack was inevitable, and if there was even a single chance to save lives, he would seize it.
Even if the entire world ignored him, even if no one believed him, he would not allow another tragedy to unfold before his eyes.
Upon entering the village, Subaru didn't waste a second.
He called out to every villager, his voice echoing through the quiet streets.
Soon, people began to gather—men, women, and children emerging from their homes, confused and sleepy, wondering what could have caused such urgency at this early hour.
Before long, almost the entire village stood assembled near the central square.
Subaru climbed onto a makeshift wooden stand, his worn-out jacket fluttering slightly in the cool morning breeze.
His face was serious, his eyes sharp.
"Everyone…" he began, his voice steady but heavy with tension.
"I'll be blunt with you. The Witch Cult is planning to attack this village."
His words hit like a thunderclap.
The silence that followed lasted only a second before it broke into chaos.
The villagers erupted in murmurs and frightened whispers.
"What did he just say? The Witch Cult?!"
"Why would they come here?"
"This has to be a mistake!"
Panic spread quickly, and disbelief filled the air.
Some looked at Subaru with doubt, others with fear, while a few whispered that he must have gone mad.
One villager, an older man with a wrinkled face and wary eyes, stepped forward.
"The Witch Cult?! Why would those lunatics attack us? We're just farmers and traders! There's no reason for them to target a place like this!" he shouted, his voice trembling as much from denial as from fear.
The murmurs grew louder, but before anyone else could speak, another villager raised his voice—Petra's father, a sturdy man who had seen Subaru's sincerity before.
"I believe in Sir Natsuki," he declared firmly, cutting through the noise.
The crowd turned to look at him as he continued, his tone grave.
"If he says the Witch Cult is coming, then they are. And…"—his eyes darkened slightly—"I think I know why they might attack our village. It's because of her."
He didn't say the name aloud, but everyone instantly knew who he was referring to.
The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air—Lady Emilia.
A wave of unease passed through the crowd. Some villagers exchanged nervous glances, others lowered their heads.
They all knew Emilia's presence was a double-edged sword.
She was kind, compassionate—but she also carried the appearance of the Witch they all feared.
And now, hearing that the Witch Cult was on the move… none of them could ignore the possibility that she was the reason their peaceful home was about to become a battlefield.
Although he hadn't mentioned any names, everyone in the crowd immediately understood who Petra's father was referring to.
The atmosphere shifted sharply, tension rising like smoke over dry wood.
"This is because of that half-elf, isn't it?!" one man hissed, his tone filled with bitterness and fear.
"Yes! Why should we abandon our homes because of her?!" another villager shouted, his face red with anger.
"If someone should leave, it should be her!"
More voices joined in, each one louder and more frustrated than the last.
"As everyone's saying! If she leaves this place, the Witch Cult will leave us alone too!"
"Yeah! Why should we pay the price for her existence?!"
"This isn't our problem—it's hers!"
The once-orderly crowd devolved into a chaotic uproar, their words dripping with hostility and fear.
Some of them were shaking, not from courage, but from terror, and that terror quickly twisted into hate.
Subaru stood there silently for a moment, his expression unreadable as he watched the villagers vent their anger.
His eyes swept over the crowd—faces twisted with panic, hands clenched into fists, children being pulled closer to their parents.
The sight made something inside him tighten.
Then, slowly, he exhaled through his nose and said in a calm but cutting tone, "Oi… are you guys stupid, or what?"
The effect was immediate.
The entire square went silent as if someone had ripped the sound right out of the air.
Dozens of eyes turned toward Subaru, shock and disbelief written across every face.
No one had expected him to speak like that.
An elderly woman stepped forward from the front of the crowd, her wrinkled hands gripping a wooden cane.
She stared up at Subaru with a hard gaze, unflinching.
"Boy," she said sternly, her voice cracking slightly from age but carrying the weight of authority.
"Even if you saved our children before, that doesn't give you the right to insult us. We've lived far longer than you have."
Her words seemed to ignite the tension again.
"That's right!" another villager yelled from the back.
"Are you really going to take her side?! That half-elf brings misfortune wherever she goes!"
Petra flinched, clutching her father's sleeve tightly.
She knew exactly how much Subaru cared for Emilia—how deeply he admired her.
Hearing these people insult Emilia so openly made her heart race with unease.
Then Subaru suddenly broke into a small laugh.
It wasn't loud or joyful—it was a low, unsettling chuckle that made several villagers exchange nervous glances.
When he finally spoke, his voice carried a sharp edge of mockery.
"Ah… you're right," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"I apologize. You guys aren't stupid."
He paused, his smile widening just slightly, his eyes cold and steady as they swept across the silent crowd.
"You're not stupid…" he continued, "you're a bunch of full-blown dumbasses."
The insult hung in the air like a blade, and no one dared to speak next.
The entire square fell into a suffocating silence as Subaru stood tall before them, not backing down, not even blinking.
The easygoing, self-deprecating Subaru they knew was gone.
The man standing before them now radiated something different—an authority that demanded attention, and a confidence that felt almost dangerous.
The crowd stood still, expressions shifting between disbelief and offense.
Some opened their mouths to shout back, but before anyone could speak, Subaru's voice cut through the tense silence again—sharp, commanding, and laced with irritation.
"Also," he said, raising his voice slightly so that even the people at the back could hear him clearly, "you should understand one thing very clearly—the issue of the Witch Cult attacking and Emilia being the supposed 'reason' for it are two completely different matters. Accusing her won't make your problem disappear, and driving her away won't save you."
His tone was blunt and firm, with not a shred of hesitation.
The crowd exchanged confused glances, murmuring among themselves.
"W-What do you mean by that?" one of the villagers finally asked, his voice trembling, half out of fear and half out of defiance.
"What do I mean?" Subaru repeated, his eyes narrowing.
He pointed toward the villager with a mocking smile.
"Let me put it simply. Even if it's true that Emilia is the reason the Witch Cult is coming here—so what? Do you actually believe that if you drive her out, the Witch Cult will just turn around and spare you? That they'll look at you and say, 'Oh, they got rid of her, let's not kill them'? Is that what you think?"
The crowd went quiet again.
No one dared to answer.
The man who had spoken earlier opened his mouth, starting to say, "O-Of course, because it's her—" but the words died in his throat as soon as he met Subaru's cold, unflinching gaze.
That look alone was enough to silence him.
Subaru exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly, and continued in a flat, almost disappointed tone.
"In simple words, you people would rather waste time playing the blame game than actually trying to save your own asses. So tell me—what's more important right now? Convincing yourselves that pushing Emilia away will make everything fine? Or doing something that might actually keep you alive?"
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning over each face in the crowd as he asked, "Go on. Which sounds smarter to you? Keep blaming someone who's not even done anything wrong, or focus on surviving what's coming?"
His words hit them harder than they expected.
The villagers, who just moments ago were full of anger and noise, now stood completely silent.
Some lowered their heads, unable to meet Subaru's eyes.
Others looked at one another, realizing how utterly foolish their earlier arguments had been.
Yes—he was right.
Why were they wasting time arguing about whose fault it was, when the real danger was already on its way?
What good would blaming Emilia do when the Witch Cult didn't care about reason, justice, or mercy?
That single, simple realization hit all of them at once like a slap to the face.
Their hearts sank as embarrassment replaced their earlier rage.
In fact, they were so stunned by how obvious it all seemed now that they felt genuinely stupid—every single one of them.
Not because Subaru had called them dumbasses earlier, but because, deep down, they now understood that he hadn't been wrong.
"L-Lord Roswaal will protect us, right?" a woman from the crowd suddenly spoke up, her voice trembling with desperation as she clutched her child close.
Her words echoed through the uneasy silence that had fallen after Subaru's speech.
Rem immediately stepped forward and stood beside Subaru, her expression calm but firm.
She placed her hand over her chest respectfully and said, "I am Lord Roswaal's maid, Rem, and I bring unfortunate news. Lord Roswaal-sama is currently away from the mansion, attending to important matters elsewhere. He won't be able to return in time."
A murmur of concern rippled through the villagers.
Some exchanged worried looks, while others began whispering among themselves in growing panic.
"What about the knights then?!" another man shouted, his tone almost pleading.
"Surely the Royal Knights will come to defend us!"
Subaru turned his gaze toward the man, his expression unreadable.
After a few seconds, he let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head slowly.
"Ah, the knights…" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"You mean those so-called heroes who love basking in glory and praise more than actually protecting people?"
He crossed his arms and sighed.
"Do you seriously think they'll come all the way out here to save a bunch of villagers?"
The man's face stiffened, but Subaru continued without mercy.
"Let me tell you something," he said, voice deepening with frustration.
"Back in the Capital, I went down on my knees—literally begged three of the Royal Candidates: Crusch Karsten, Anastasia Hoshin, and Priscilla Barielle—to help us. I asked for their support, for the knights under their banners to come and defend this village from the Witch Cult."
He paused, glaring at the stunned faces in front of him.
"And you know what happened?" Subaru said, his tone laced with bitterness.
"Every single one of them turned me down. Not one of them agreed to help."
"W-Why would they refuse?!" someone in the crowd exclaimed, disbelief and outrage mixing in their voice.
"Why?" Subaru repeated, a faint smirk appearing on his lips, but his tone wasn't mocking the villager—it was mocking himself.
"Because I'm just a commoner. A nobody. To them, my words don't carry any weight. In their eyes, I'm just dirt under their feet—someone unworthy of their attention. Do you really think the lives of a few villagers matter more than their political games and ambitions? The world doesn't work like that."
For a brief moment, the entire crowd fell silent.
His words hit harder than any insult could.
They could hear the anger and exhaustion in his voice—the frustration of someone who had already tried everything, only to be ignored by those who had power to make a difference.
Then, one man finally snapped, clenching his fists.
"Damn those nobles!" he shouted furiously.
"They're all the same! A bunch of greedy bastards who only care about themselves!"
Another villager, a woman who had once admired Crusch, joined in, her face twisted in resentment.
"Yeah! I thought Lady Crusch was different, that she actually cared about people—but in the end, she's just like the rest of them!"
Their anger spread like wildfire.
One after another, people began to curse and complain, venting all their pent-up frustration.
"Those nobles only show up when they want taxes or fame!"
"They sit in their fancy mansions while we're left to die!"
"Rotten bastards! Every single one of them!"
The complaints were endless, their resentment overflowing.
For the first time, the villagers weren't angry at Emilia—they were angry at the people who were supposed to protect them but never did.
And Subaru simply watched them, his expression neutral, letting their outrage burn out.
Deep inside, he knew this rage wouldn't save them—but at least now, they were starting to see reality for what it truly was.
However, seeing them they weren't stopping arguing he had to shout again.
"Oye! Enough with your useless arguing! We're running out of time here!" Subaru's voice cut sharply through the noise, commanding everyone's attention.
The entire crowd fell silent at once, the weight of his tone forcing them to stop bickering.
Even the whispers died out, replaced by uneasy tension hanging thick in the air.
"W-Who's going to save us then?" a trembling voice came from the back of the crowd.
A middle-aged man stepped forward, his face pale and hands shaking.
"If Lord Roswaal isn't here… and the knights won't come… then who?"
Subaru looked at him calmly, his expression unreadable.
"You don't need to worry about that," he said, his tone firm but reassuring.
"I already have a plan. For now, I want all of you to stay here and remain calm. I'll handle the Witch Cultists myself."
Gasps erupted from the villagers.
The words "by himself" rippled through the crowd like a shockwave.
"All by yourself?" Petra asked, stepping forward, her small hands clutching her dress tightly.
Her face showed a mix of fear and concern.
"Subaru… are you really going to fight them alone?"
Subaru turned his gaze toward her, and for the first time since arriving at the village, he smiled—a soft, genuine smile that carried both confidence and warmth.
"Don't worry, Petra," he said gently.
"I have a plan. I'm not going in blind this time."
He then looked around at the gathered villagers and raised his voice so everyone could hear.
"For now, I want all of you to separate into small groups and take positions in different safe spots around the village. Stay hidden, stay alert. If any of the Witch Cult members somehow manage to slip through, protect yourselves and your families first. Don't act like heroes—leave the fighting to me."
Then Subaru turned his eyes toward Rem, who was standing by his side with a determined expression.
"Rem will stay here with you all," he said firmly.
"She'll help organize everyone and make sure no one panics. As for the children—they'll be placed in the carriage that Otto has brought. If something unexpected happens, you'll take them and escape immediately. Understood?", he stared at Otto who nodded like a hen pecking rice.
Rem nodded obediently, already beginning to plan how to divide the villagers efficiently.
The others murmured their agreement, though the anxiety in their faces hadn't faded completely.
Still, doubt lingered.
One older man finally spoke up, his voice hesitant but filled with genuine concern.
"S-Sir Subaru… please don't misunderstand. It's not that we doubt your courage or good intentions. You've already saved our children once, and for that, we owe you everything. But…" he trailed off, swallowing nervously, "can you really stop the Witch Cultists alone? They're monsters. Even knights struggle against them."
Subaru's lips curled into a small smirk as he let out a low chuckle.
"Heh," he said, brushing off his coat with exaggerated confidence.
"If I can't stop them…"—he paused, his expression hardening as his eyes narrowed with absolute conviction—"…then maybe no one in this entire world can stop them."
The villagers were taken aback by his words.
His tone wasn't arrogance for the sake of pride—it was certainty.
The kind of conviction that came from someone who had already stared death in the face countless times and refused to back down.
At first, his haughty answer left them speechless, but then something strange happened.
The fear in their hearts began to fade, replaced by a faint sense of hope.
His confidence—no, his sheer defiance—was infectious.
The same man who questioned him earlier nodded slowly, almost convinced.
"Then… we'll trust you, Sir Subaru," he said quietly.
"Yeah," another villager added, "if you're that confident, maybe there really is a chance."
Within moments, the tense silence turned into murmurs of agreement.
Their fear didn't vanish completely, but Subaru's words had given them something they hadn't felt since the warning of the Witch Cult—belief.
And Subaru simply smiled, turning his back toward them as the first rays of sunlight fell on his face.
"Good," he said softly, "then get ready. It's almost time."
Now, this wasn't the modern era where such bold statements were immediately dismissed as arrogance.
In this world, words like those were seen as a mark of confidence—of power.
People didn't question such claims unless they were proven false, and most would rather not test someone who spoke with that kind of certainty.
It was a survival instinct born from the harsh realities of a feudal world.
This was the mindset of the common folk—peasants who lived under lords, ruled by nobility, and guided by faith or fear.
Education wasn't a right here; it was a luxury reserved for the privileged few.
For most, strength and authority were the only truths that mattered.
After ensuring the villagers had calmed down and were following Rem's directions, Subaru turned his back to the settlement and began walking toward the forest.
His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp—focused.
The Witch Cult would be lurking somewhere out there, and this time, he had no intention of letting them get close to the village.
The deeper he ventured into the forest, the darker and quieter it became.
The gentle morning light faded beneath the canopy of trees, replaced by an eerie stillness that seemed to swallow every sound.
The wind barely moved, and even the birds refused to sing.
Not long after, a group of wolgrams appeared from between the shadows—wild, snarling beasts with glowing red eyes, their sharp fangs glinting as they surrounded him.
But before they could even make a sound, before they could leap or howl, their bodies began to distort—melting into darkness.
Their fur, flesh, and bones were swallowed by a pitch-black void that devoured them completely.
Within moments, the creatures were gone, leaving behind only silence and a faint ripple of shadow spreading across the ground.
That same darkness slithered toward Subaru and merged seamlessly into his shadow, vanishing without a trace.
Subaru didn't even glance at it.
His steps remained steady as he pressed deeper into the woods.
And then—he found them.
A wide clearing opened before him, bathed in the faint morning light that pierced through the trees.
There, dozens of figures cloaked in black robes stood kneeling, their hoods covering their faces, their bodies trembling in reverence and madness.
The unmistakable insignia of the Witch Cult was carved across their robes and masks.
Subaru's lips curved into a faint smirk.
He stepped forward, his voice calm but laced with a sharp edge as he said, "We meet again."
The Witch Cultists instantly lowered their heads further, bowing deeply before him as if greeting a god—or a devil.
To be continued...