Reinhard van Astrea stood at the border.
The battlefield was a blur of steel and flame, yet his eyes remained sharp. The enemy's formations were precise—unnervingly coordinated, unlike any force he'd faced in this war. But eventually, even the most calculated army made mistakes. Reinhard capitalized on them with surgical brutality.
Still, none of it made him feel victorious.
His blade cut through enemies. His shield saved allies. But his heart was rotting.
"If I hadn't drunk that night..."
He hated himself for it.
For lowering his guard. For letting Emilia suffer.
She hadn't spoken to him since. And maybe she never would again.
He wanted to talk to her. To say he was sorry. To explain that he wasn't himself. But he knew—his voice would only bring her pain.
In truth, Reinhard had always been cursed.
The world loved him, but people often hated him.
He had no loyalty to Lugunica, and none to the Empire either. What kept him going were the eyes of his soldiers—the hope in civilians who looked to him as a hero.
But it was a lie.
He felt nothing but the weight of guilt. Especially for Subaru.
And yet... after what Subaru did, Reinhard told himself there was no choice left. Only duty. Only justice.
So he stayed. To protect Lugunica. Not because he cared—but because someone had to.
But then... something shifted.
Reinhard's eyes widened as he read the scout's report.
"All enemy forces are converging at the negotiation site."
"Why?" he asked aloud, frowning. "The plan was never that bold."
Something was wrong.
Then came the next message—worse than the last.
"Lady Anastasia is dead."
Reinhard's heart stopped.
He shouldn't have left. He should have gone with her. Protected her.
His grip tightened on his sword, knuckles white.
He turned, preparing to leap through the sky and reach the battlefield.
He had to go. If the Empire was truly striking there, then that was where the true battle would begin.
But as he soared through the air—
His body faltered.
He fell, crashing into the earth below with a force that split the trees.
Panting, confused, Reinhard rose slowly, limbs trembling.
Why? What's happening?
It felt as though the Divine Protections—the gifts that made him untouchable, immortal in battle—were slipping away.
Something had broken.
Something in the world had changed.
"This feeling..." he whispered, staring at his shaking hand.
"It's like the gods have abandoned me."
Reinhard still felt strength in his body—raw, terrifying strength.
But it wasn't divine protection. Not anymore.
The sword at his hip, the same one his grandmother once wielded, still resonated with power. But the world had changed. He could feel it. The divine blessings—the protections granted by fate itself—had gone silent.
Then, without warning, a kunai whistled through the air.
Reinhard moved. Effortless. His body dodged the weapon before he even thought to.
Halibelt stood a few meters away, lowering his arm and offering a crooked smile.
"Impressive," Halibelt said calmly. "I always wondered how strong you really were—without your Divine Protections."
He lunged.
His cursed blade struck Reinhard's chest.
Nothing. No wound. No mark. The blade clanged off muscle that shouldn't be so dense.
It was what Halibelt expected. Reinhard had long been known as the strongest man in the world, and Halibelt had assumed it was because of the gods' favor.
But now, standing face to face with him, that theory felt insufficient.
Terrifyingly so.
Halibelt narrowed his eyes.
"It's not just divine gifts, is it...?"
He began to understand—there were two types of Divine Protection.
One type augmented Reinhard's body: gave him his immense metabolism, his resistance to poison, disease, fatigue. That enhancement left its mark, permanently altering his physical form.
The other type was active: blessings that made blades miss, that let him leap through the sky, that defied the laws of nature. Those were gone.
The destruction of the Dragon's Heart—the massive, magical core that had long powered Lugunica's divine systems—had shut them down.
But the foundation left behind... remained.
Reinhard no longer had Divine Protections.
But the legacy of those gifts still burned in his flesh.
The strength. The resilience. The monstrous potential... it hadn't vanished.
Halibelt felt a chill crawl down his back.
Reinhard took a step forward, his eyes unreadable.
He was no longer a hero favored by fate.
He was something worse.
A man who didn't need fate's favor to destroy the world.
**Reinhard moved—**fast enough to blur.
His fist flew, aiming straight for Halibelt's face.
Halibelt twisted his body, dodging the punch by a hair. But then—
CRACK!
A kick slammed into the side of his head.
His vision spun, and pain bloomed like fire in his skull.
It felt like being hit by a stone wall.
No... it reminded him of childhood—
When he was a boy, training to break boulders with his legs, it had taken two years to master the technique. His bones had nearly shattered every time.
Now? It felt like those rocks were hitting back.
Halibelt gritted his teeth, slashing a pair of daggers across Reinhard's back. Blood sprayed—finally, a hit. But—
Reinhard's hand clamped down on his leg.
Halibelt's eyes widened just as Reinhard swung him like a ragdoll, slamming him into the ground with a thunderous crack that left a crater.
Mistake.
Halibelt had made a mistake. One that should have cost him his life.
But just before Reinhard could finish him, a second Halibelt clone darted in from the side and launched a kunai into Reinhard's eye.
Pain. Real pain.
Reinhard staggered, blood pouring from the wound. For a second, he was mortal again.
Halibelt didn't waste it. He twisted his body, slipped free, and reset his stance.
But Reinhard didn't fall back. He didn't retreat.
He slammed his hands into the ground, ripping up a shockwave of force that tore through the battlefield.
The earth cracked. Trees were shredded in a line behind Halibelt as Reinhard struck with such raw power that a dozen pines exploded in his wake.
One hit. Just one hit.
And Halibelt felt death whisper past him.
Reinhard swung his sword, still unshifted—no glowing aura, no transformation. Just raw steel and pure force.
Halibelt was mid-air, flipping back for another dodge—
Too late.
The blade clipped him mid-motion, and the shockwave alone sent him flying.
His body smashed through a line of trees, each trunk splintering like glass until he finally crashed into the dirt, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
That hurt.
He lay there, panting, bones groaning. Even with all his training, he'd never fought someone like this.
I've fought Cecilus... and he was faster,
But at least I could keep up before the curse slowed him down.
But this? This was worse.
Reinhard wasn't just fast—he was perfect.
And now... he was cursed.
Halibelt had landed several cursed strikes during the fight, etching corruption runes into Reinhard's body.
They were working. Slowly.
Reinhard winced faintly, his breathing heavy for the first time.
But Halibelt knew the truth:
Curses worked on Reinhard... but they'd need years.
Years to peel back the strength he'd earned from hundreds of blessings—
Decades to undo the power that made him a monster.
And right now, Halibelt didn't have years.
He had seconds.
Seconds before Reinhard stopped holding back.
Reinhard reached up and ripped the kunai from his eye.
Blood poured down his cheek, and with it, his vision—
Gone. One eye... useless.
The pain was real. Blinding.
But he stayed standing.
Across the clearing, Halibelt staggered to his feet.
He couldn't breathe right—his ribcage shattered, his hand bones cracked like brittle wood.
Agony.
But Halibelt had trained for this.
You fight even when your bones scream. You move when your lungs bleed.
He drew his katana, grip unsteady, and charged.
He saw it—the slow regeneration in Reinhard's wounds.
I have to end it.
One strike.
Then—
Rainhard moved.
Four clones surrounded him instantly.
A perfect wall.
Rainhard shifted into full defense.
Halibelt pressed forward anyway.
One clone darted behind Reinhard—slicing his leg.
The red-haired knight stumbled—his balance compromised.
Two more clones dove in, slamming their weapons into Reinhard's sword, trapping it in place.
And the fourth clone—
—rushed forward, katana raised.
A perfect opening.
No defense.
No time.
A flash of silver.
The blade came down—
Straight for Reinhard's neck.
The blade hit.
Halibelt's katana struck Reinhard's neck—
—but it stopped short.
It cut deep, but not deep enough.
Not enough to kill.
Reinhard roared, blood spraying from the wound.
He swung, pure strength ripping through the air.
Two of Halibelt's clones were blown back, just barely dodging.
Halibelt stared at his katana, breathing hard.
"That's the first time I've ever seen my blade not sharp enough to take off a man's head..."
Reinhard straightened, sword still firm in hand.
One eye gone. Neck bleeding.
But ready to fight.
Then Halibelt raised his hand—
"I give up," he said, voice low.
But it was a lie.
A clone darted behind Reinhard—
—cutting deep into his back.
Reinhard turned, too slow—
Another blade plunged into his stomach.
He staggered, gasping—
Then the third clone slammed a kick into his knee.
Bone cracked.
Reinhard fell to one knee, trying to rise—
And then the final clone stepped forward.
She moved with perfect grace, her blade arcing down like a priest performing a sacred rite.
One clean stroke—
across Reinhard's neck.
Like a seppuku ritual carried out by the executioner's hand—
His head fell.
The greatest knight of the age,
cut down
by deception.
Halibelt stood atop the hill, Reinhard's severed head held loosely in his blood-soaked hand. The battle was over. The strongest knight in the world was dead.
Only now did he notice the sky.
It was black—void of color, void of light, save for the stars that had begun to appear. But they weren't ordinary stars. These lights pulsed and flickered unnaturally, as if they didn't belong in the sky at all. They looked distant and ancient, more like holes in the fabric of the world than sources of light.
Then they began to fall.
One by one, the stars dropped from the heavens like meteors, striking the earth with thunderous force. Wherever they landed, enormous explosions ripped through the land, tearing craters into the surface and sending shockwaves across the continent. From this height, Halibelt could see it clearly—Lagunia and the Empire alike were being swallowed by chaos.
Great black vortexes began to open, spinning violently as they pulled in everything around them—dirt, stone, fire, even the wind. Forests disappeared. Rivers reversed course and were sucked into the sky. Lakes exploded into mist. The very shape of the land was warping.
Then came the strange substance.
It fell from the sky, not like rain, but as an unfamiliar, viscous downpour. It had no clear form—neither liquid, gas, nor solid, it simply existed, a shifting mass of something incomprehensible. As it touched the ground, it burned and corroded, leaving behind only blackened earth and voids where once there was matter.
It spread across the land, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.
From the center of the devastation, a massive oval-shaped scar began to form—stretching from the hill where Halibelt stood all the way to the site where the negotiation was supposed to take place. It was as if the world itself was being peeled open from that point.
Halibelt understood then. This wasn't just a battle. This wasn't a war.
A witch had decided to destroy the world.
Maybe it was Echidna. Maybe it was someone worse. But the result was the same—everything was unraveling.
With nothing else to cling to, Halibelt looked down at Reinhard's lifeless face one last time. Then, without a word, he turned and began walking.
Toward the center of the storm.
Toward the end.
The world was ending.
Not in fire, nor in ice, but in something far stranger—a slow, elegant unmaking. The sky had opened like a book turned upside down, revealing pages not meant to be read by mortal eyes. Stars bled. Galaxies blinked. Gravity sobbed and begged to be understood.
And still, things fell.
Not meteors, not magic, not even wrath. Something deeper. Something ancient. Threads of cause and effect, shredded. Space twisted like soft wax. Time buckled. The world's laws, once firm and unyielding, had begun to negotiate their terms.
At the center of this unraveling spiral, where nothing could exist but did anyway, she stood.
Echidna:
White hair fluttering in still air. Black dress untouched by plasma rain. A smile carved from curiosity and detachment.
Echidna stood on the edge of the spiral cleft, watching it spread like ink in water. Down below, nothing had form anymore—just colorless static and shapes that refused to be shapes. The rules that held this world together had stepped aside.
It was beautiful.
"I knew it," she said softly, voice carrying across the chasm. "All things that insist on meaning eventually collapse beneath it."
Her hands folded neatly in front of her, like a teacher waiting for class to begin.
"This world... it lasted longer than I thought. But it became so tedious."
The black stars blinked above, each one a godless wound in the sky.
"For a time, war was amusing. Watching them claw at each other for ideals, crowns, promises they couldn't keep. I even cheered for them once or twice."
Her head tilted. Thoughtful.
"But peace is the most boring prison of all. Four hundred years of stagnation. Smiling faces. Festivals. Love stories." She wrinkled her nose slightly. "I nearly fell asleep forever."
She looked down into the spiral again, eyes gleaming with glee.
"But then... they surprised me. And I remembered why I stayed."
A breath. Not of relief, but of exhilaration.
"I wonder... will they try to stop me?"
The world below twisted, shrieked, cracked.
"Will they understand what's happening in time?"
The wind began to carry whispers. Voices? Memories? Screams? Even Echidna didn't care to tell.
"I don't want to end the world," she said, half to herself. "I want to know if anyone still deserves it."
And as the rain turned violet, and reality blinked again—
She smiled.
Her gaze lifted, away from the unraveling spiral, away from the collapsing horizon—and upward. Toward the stars. No... not the stars. The space between them. Where she lingered.
"Satella."
Echidna's smile dimmed slightly, her lips flattening into something more bitter. More complicated.
"He belongs to you, doesn't he?"
She folded her arms, fingers gripping her sleeves just tight enough to keep herself still. A habit. A restraint.
"Subaru Natsuki. The irregular. The one who made my calculations wobble for the first time in centuries."
Her voice held a strange reverence, like she was describing a weapon, not a person.
"I wanted your Witch Factor, Subaru. I wanted to tear it from you. Analyze it. Control it. Turn it into something elegant. Something mine."
She chuckled, but there was no warmth in it.
"But you were never just the Witch Factor, were you? You were something else. Something new."
Echidna turned her back to the abyss, facing the sky now. The cosmic wound. The directionless above.
"You brought chaos back into a stagnant system. You made even me curious again. And that—that—was precious."
Her eyes narrowed.
"But she has her claws in you. That miserable, broken-hearted thing. She lets you return by death... but only when it benefits her. Only when it brings you closer to her salvation."
Echidna stepped forward, the air beneath her feet shimmering as it failed to decide whether it was solid or void.
"She's clever, I'll give her that. If you ever choose a path where she can't be saved... she drags you back. Erases everything. You don't even remember. Just a whisper in your gut, telling you to turn left instead of right."
A long silence.
"I wonder, Subaru," she murmured, "how many times you've already failed her without knowing."
The sky shimmered above. Something vast and feminine pulsed behind it. Watching.
Echidna smiled again—soft, mocking, lonely.
"She's cheating. But I don't mind. I want to see how far you can go, even with the deck stacked."
She looked down at the warping world again. The stars continued to fall.
"Surprise me again, Subaru. Break her script. Step off the path."
She reached out, palm facing upward, catching a drop of violet plasma as it fell from the sky and fizzled into nothing.
"Because if you don't..."
Her smile sharpened.
"...I'll erase the board before you even reach the end."
In the chaos of the broken sky, where the spiral scar of the world glowed like an open wound, a singular figure stood tall at the peak of devastation. All around her, the land groaned in agony, twisted into unnatural shapes. The stars bled. The sky wept fire.
And she waited.
Echidna.
The Witch of Greed stood atop the shattered mountain, her left arm ending in nothing—just scorched void trailing into frayed space. In her remaining hand, clutched like a chalice, was the Black Box—a smooth, ominous thing that pulsed with impossible power. It had nearly been taken. Nearly.
But Echidna's magic had danced like a whisper, like a smile too sharp to trust. The box had slipped from Subaru's grasp and returned to her palm, as if the world itself refused to let him win yet.
A shadow passed overhead.
A dragon—scorched and screaming—spiraled down from above, its wings failing as Volcanica, the corrupted guardian beast, dove with divine violence. Its roars shook the storm, and the earth cracked in time with it.
With a thunderous crash, the dragon was forced down, spiraling into a ridge just below the mountaintop, unable to ascend again.
From its battered back, Subaru Natsuki dropped, cloak torn, eyes burning with desperation.
Beside him stood Beatrice, her twin drills singed at the tips, her mana aura trembling from overuse. And yet, she stood tall—defiant.
Echidna tilted her head slightly, the wind shifting around her, refusing to touch her skin. Her gaze swept across them both before settling on Subaru.
"Back again," she said softly, almost like a greeting. "Even when I keep removing your pieces, you keep playing."
Subaru didn't answer. He was already stepping forward, teeth clenched.
But Echidna raised the Black Box slightly, letting it catch the twisted starlight.
"Do you want it back?"
Subaru froze.
Echidna's smile curved—not wide, not cruel, but curious.
"Return by Death. Your cursed little gift. The lifeline you begged to understand. The thing you once called a nightmare."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Do you want it back?"
The silence hit like a drop of blood in a silent cathedral.
"You looked so disgusted by it," Echidna murmured, almost thoughtfully. "So desperate to be free. I thought perhaps you'd finally accepted how pointless it was. Always dying. Always failing. Always repeating."
Her gaze grew sharper.
"So why stand here again? Why still fight? What could possibly make you ask for it back?"
The box pulsed in her palm, like it was breathing.
And the air around them seemed to hold its breath.
She watched Subaru's silence like a mother studying a child's tantrum.
"Still so defiant," she said softly. "It's charming, in its own way."
Her fingers brushed the Black Box's surface, and a thousand screaming memories flickered through the sky like broken film reels.
"You remind me of the first time," she continued. "When you came to me—truly came to me—and we made a contract. A deal, forged in desperation and brilliance."
Her smile grew wistful. "We spent years together. Maybe longer. I stopped counting after the first million deaths."
Subaru's face twisted. "That... never happened."
Echidna turned her gaze on him—sharp now. Icy.
"Of course you don't remember. She made sure of that."
She raised the Box again, and for a moment it showed flickers—brief flashes of a Subaru laughing in firelight, of cities burning, of blood-drenched thrones.
"The first world? You burned the capital of Lagunica to ash. Not because you were angry... but because it was efficient."
Subaru's voice cracked. "No. I'd never—"
"You did," Echidna snapped, almost bored now. "And Satella let you. Until she realized you were satisfied. You'd found peace in destruction. You stopped chasing her. So... she reset you. Back to the beginning."
The wind howled around them, dragging with it echoes of dying screams from worlds long erased.
"In the next world, you ruled from the shadows. A criminal empire. Blackmail. Assassins. The most powerful underworld force the kingdom had ever seen. You won. Again."
She leaned in slightly, smiling wide. "But you forgot how to laugh. How to cry. You were empty. You stopped feeling. And she hated that."
Subaru trembled. "You're lying."
Echidna tilted her head.
"In one of them... you killed her." She looked to Beatrice. "And oh, you were the one she waited for. How poetic."
Beatrice stiffened. Subaru's breath hitched.
"And after that?" Echidna sighed.
"You still think I'm lying?" Her voice was low, sharp. "Still pretending you'd never abandon the people who trusted you?"
She paused, eyes gleaming like mirrors.
"Let me remind you of the third world."
Subaru's hands trembled.
"You ran away," she said. "You and Rem fled to Kararagi. You left everyone in the village to die. Emilia, Petra, Ram. Beatrice, left behind in the library. You didn't face it. You didn't fight. You chose to live."
Her voice twisted into something bitter-sweet.
"And you did. You lived. You cried in Kararagi. You broke. But you got back up. You built a family with the only person who still loved you. Rem."
Echidna's eyes narrowed, her tone colder.
"You became a hero. Saved Kararagi from the Wind Spirit, Zerestia. People sang your name. You were happy."
She stepped forward.
"And Satella watched."
She raised the black box in her hand.
"When you died—peacefully, in your bed, old and satisfied—she killed them."
Subaru's face went blank.
"She killed Rigel. She killed Spica. She killed Rem. Personally. Slowly."
Echidna stared into him, voice like a knife.
"She hated it. That you were satisfied. That you had a life without her. So she made sure your peace ended in screams."
She tilted her head.
"You want to know why you could never save Rem? Why she's always just out of reach?"
Her smile returned—cold, knowing.
"It's because Satella won't let you. She manipulates everything. Bends events. Forces resets. You only get another chance if it brings you closer to her."
Echidna's fingers curled around the box.
"This world still stands only because you still want to save Satella. That's the only thing that's ever mattered to her."
Echidna stepped closer, locking eyes with Subaru.
"You don't believe me?" she whispered.
Subaru stared back, jaw clenched.
She raised the Black Box. "Then see it."
The world around them twisted. Subaru gasped as his vision blurred—then sharpened. He saw them.
Rigel. Spica. Laughing. Running through a sunlit Kararagi field. Rem, smiling softly, holding a hand out to him. Her eyes full of peace.
And behind them... a massive figure. A giant werewolf, teeth sharp, grin wide—Halibelt. He clapped Subaru on the back and called him brother.
Then—her. A woman in a white kimono. Calm, serene. A single line of green hair running down her side. Her name came back to him like a lost breath—
Tia. The Great Wind Spirit. Friend. Protector. The one who helped him save the village where Rigel was born.
"Stop!" Beatrice cried, grabbing his shoulder. "Don't listen to her! Don't look, I suppose!"
Subaru's voice cracked. "No, Beatrice... I remember. Tia... Halibelt... My kids..."
He dropped to his knees.
"I had a family... I wanted them to live..."
His voice broke. The tears came.
"Why... why would she take them...? Why—?"
Echidna smiled—genuinely. Watching him shake and cry was beautiful to her.
"I love that reaction," she said. "That pain in your eyes... That's the real you, Subaru."
She stepped around him, circling like a predator.
"And after that... came the world where you made a contract with me."
Her smile faded slightly, replaced by boredom.
"You were broken by then. You didn't even react when I told you everything I just said now. You just stared. Silent. Empty."
She looked down at him.
"You weren't even fun anymore."
Subaru kept crying.
Echidna just watched.
Echidna stood quietly now, watching Subaru break down. The sobs shook his whole body, his hands clawed into the dirt, his head bowed low.
She tilted her head slightly.
"In the next world... you didn't make the contract again," she said, almost disappointed. "I thought maybe you'd come back to me. But no. You let it go. And so did I."
She turned away for a moment, looking at the swirling storm behind her—the sky still torn open, stars falling like rain.
"I decided it was more fun just to watch you instead."
She looked back to him.
"I wanted to keep talking, but..." She sighed. "You're not even listening, are you?"
Subaru said nothing. Just the sound of crying. Shaking. Breaking.
Her tone shifted—flat, quiet, serious.
"You should know... if you die now, there won't be a restart."
Subaru's breath caught.
"I hold the Witch Factor now," she said, raising her hand. The Black Box pulsed in her palm. "Satella's little gift doesn't work without it."
She looked down at him.
"But if I give it back to you..." Her voice was smooth, deliberate, "Your next death will reset everything."
She smiled coldly.
"But not to now. Not to this moment. You know too much. You've seen too far. It would all rewind. To the very beginning."
Her hand opened slowly, the Black Box hovering above her palm.
"You would forget all of this. Your family. Your children. Your friend. That woman in white. Rem. All of it. Gone."
She stepped forward, crouching in front of him, her tone soft like silk.
"But if you want it... take it back."
The Box hovered between them. It pulsed like a heartbeat.
"Make your choice, Subaru Natsuki."
Subaru flinched back from the Black Box, stepping away like it was fire. His hands trembled.
Beatrice didn't wait.
"I suppose... you've talked enough!" she shouted, throwing her arm forward. A burst of compressed mana, glowing with golden light, surged toward Echidna.
The Witch of Greed didn't even blink.
Her hand flicked, and a veil of shimmering black threads snapped into place. Beatrice's magic collided with it and shattered like glass, the shockwave rocking the mountain peak.
Echidna sighed. "Disappointing, Beatrice. I thought you would've learned something by now."
A thin line of white fire lanced out from Echidna's finger. It struck Beatrice square in the chest, sending her crashing into the rocks with a cry.
"Beako!" Subaru screamed, running to her side.
He dropped to his knees beside her, pulling her into his arms. Her breathing was ragged, her small frame trembling, but she was still conscious.
"It's fine... it's gonna be fine," Subaru whispered. "I promise..."
He held her close, shielding her from the Witch's gaze.
Echidna watched with her cold, still smile.
"You should be grateful," she said. "This is a very... specific situation."
Her eyes narrowed, voice smooth like venom.
"Right now, you're not bound to Satella. Your soul's been severed just long enough. If you walk away now, you're free."
Subaru didn't answer.
Echidna took a step closer, the Black Box pulsing beside her like a heartbeat.
"But what then?" she asked. "Rem hates you. She carries another man's child. Half the world is ruined. Lagunica is gone. The Empire's army? Dead."
Her voice dropped low.
"You could fix it. All of it. Just take the box. Reset it. Rewrite everything. Start again. Be the hero."
Subaru looked down, holding Beatrice tighter.
Echidna's smile twisted.
"But if you do... you'll save no one. Only Satella. That's the cost. She'll be released. And once she's free, the world ends."
The Black Box floated, just within reach.
"This is your only chance to end it all. To break the cycle. To choose freedom. Or..."
She let the silence hang.
"What will you do, Subaru?"
Subaru didn't answer.
He knelt there, arms wrapped around Beatrice, eyes distant. The tears had stopped, but his face was hollow—lost in the weight of the choice no one should ever have to make.
Echidna frowned, just slightly.
"...Tch."
With a flick of her wrist, a slow wave of black flame coiled up from her feet and surged toward Subaru. It wasn't fast—it was deliberate, creeping, consuming. A wall of magic fire, silent and endless.
"Fine," she said. "Let's remove the distraction."
But halfway through its path—
BOOM.
The wave shattered in an instant, ripped apart by a slash of glowing light.
From the smoke stepped a figure, battered, bruised, half his armor burned away. His blue hair was soaked with blood and dirt, yet his grin was still sharp—cocky, wild, and unbreakable.
Cecilus Segmunt.
One arm was gone, replaced by a gleaming construct of magic-forged steel, humming with barely-contained energy. His chest was torn open in places, but he stood straight—no fear, no doubt.
He placed himself between Subaru and the oncoming storm, turning his back to the Witch.
"You really don't know when to quit, do you, Miss Greed?" he said, grinning.
Echidna narrowed her eyes.
"...You defeated Reid's body?" she asked, curiosity flickering for the first time.
"I'm as surprised as you are," Cecilus said, cracking his neck. "But hey, that's how it works."
He turned slightly, giving Subaru a wink over his shoulder.
"The main hero always shows up for the final act."
Then he faced Echidna, raising his magic arm and pointing it straight at her.
"Now it's my turn... to kick your ass."
Echidna snapped her fingers.
A black hole tore open beneath Cecilus, swallowing the ground, warping space around it with a deep, groaning pull. Trees ripped from their roots. Stones cracked and screamed.
But Cecilus was already gone.
A blur—light-speed—he surged forward, his magic-forged arm glowing, a blur of steel and intent. He aimed straight for Echidna's throat, a kill shot with no hesitation.
But—
She vanished, teleporting just as the strike passed through where her neck had been.
Cecilus landed hard, skid-sliding across the ground with a wild laugh. "Damn, you're slippery!"
Behind him, the black hole vortex expanded—wild, unstable, ready to devour everything in its path.
Subaru looked up, stunned, paralyzed by the force dragging them in.
And then—arms around him.
Someone grabbed him and Beatrice, leapt into the air, wind and ice surging beneath their feet.
It was Emilia.
"Hold on!" she shouted, her silver hair whipping in the storm, violet eyes blazing.
Subaru barely managed to nod, clinging to Beatrice as Emilia landed on a floating chunk of torn earth, skated across a trail of frozen air she conjured beneath them—Ice Walker in full force.
Behind them, the black hole consumed everything—air, light, space—but Emilia's ice cut through it, forming a barrier long enough to let them escape the pull.
They broke free—barely.
Emilia panted, still running with them in her arms, voice strained. "We're not out of this yet—but we will be!"
Behind them, the mountain was vanishing into the vortex, and above it, Cecilus laughed like a lunatic as he vanished into the clash with Echidna.
Echidna reappeared instantly after her teleport, already mid-cast.
She raised her hand, and three stellar spears of magic ignited around her—one from the left, one from the right, and one straight from the front. They shot at Cecilus like divine artillery, fast enough to pierce space.
But he was faster.
His katana flashed—once, twice, three times. The spears split in midair, their power dispersing into sparks and harmless light before they could touch him.
A second later, the ground beneath him exploded, a delayed trap. But Cecilus spun clear, launching skyward with a single kick and landing like a feather.
"Nice try," he said with a grin. "Got anything that doesn't tickle?"
Echidna's smile vanished.
She slammed both palms into the earth—a dragon of stone and magic erupted from the ground, its body massive, screaming, fangs made of crystallized gravity.
Cecilus didn't stop.
He dashed forward, blade glowing, and cut straight through the dragon's neck, its body splitting like wet paper. The shockwave of his slash traveled forward—fast, deadly—
Echidna was forced to teleport again, her cloak fluttering through space.
Reappearing a dozen meters away, she narrowed her eyes.
"Fine," she hissed. "Let's see you cut what you can't grip."
With another spell, the shattered remains of the earth twisted, morphed—not stone now, but mud. Thick, heavy, clinging like hands.
The mud dragon roared from the ground, leaping at Cecilus with twisting tendrils aiming to trap him, swallow him whole.
He laughed. "You think I don't know how to dance in the dirt?"
The moment the mud closed in, Cecilus vanished, his speed turning him into an afterimage—and when he reappeared, it was above the dragon, blade spinning downward.
One slash—cleave. The entire mud construct collapsed in a wave of sludge.
Around him, the sky howled, firing black star-missiles, dozens of tiny comets from the shattered heavens, each carrying death.
Cecilus twisted, spun, ducked, and flipped between them with impossible grace. They exploded behind him in bursts of voidfire and screeching light, but nothing touched him.
He laughed louder.
"Come on, Witch of Greed—was that your best phase?!"
Echidna clenched her fists.
The dance had only just begun.
Echidna narrowed her eyes.
Cecilus was cutting through mud, teleport traps, and magic constructs like they were made of paper.
Enough.
She thrust her hand forward—a reverse black hole exploded into being between them, not pulling but pushing with the violent force of compressed antimatter. A shockwave of reversed gravity blasted out in every direction.
Cecilus read it instantly and spun sideways—dodging it with the same ease he dodged the normal ones.
But Echidna was ready.
While he danced around the void, she chanted fast—lightning cracked from above, called down in a flash of searing blue that struck the wet mud still splattered across the battlefield.
Electricity surged through the sludge—amplified, grounded, directed—and Cecilus was in the middle of it.
Before he could move, three more reverse black holes ripped open around him, collapsing in from different angles—trapping him between pressure and lightning.
The blast lit the sky—a column of light surged up, painting the already fractured heavens with white fire. Even from miles away, it burned like a second sun.
For a moment, Cecilus disappeared in the storm.
And then—he stumbled forward, body cracked, armor burned, still standing.
His breath was ragged, steam hissing off his shoulders. Blood ran down his side. But he was alive.
Echidna smirked—and in that one second, opened a black hole directly on his chest, trying to crush his body from the inside.
Cecilus growled, muscles locking down, every nerve screaming as he resisted the implosion.
He tried to move—but Echidna cast again, another reverse black hole, this time to shove him back into the crushing one.
The pull and push locked him in place—caught in an impossible tug-of-war meant to erase him.
But he wasn't done.
With a roar, Cecilus drew both of his katanas, blades sparking with compressed wind and raw mana. He crouched, twisted—
"Spinning Blade Style: Severing Sky!"
His body whirled, blades carving the air in a cyclone of power. The magic around him shattered—both black holes ruptured, the force of his technique tearing through the spell matrix itself.
The ground split under him. The air turned still for one breath.
A blast of searing Witch Light came down from the sky like judgment.
Cecilus caught it.
Blades crossed, planted in the ground, holding the beam of power back with sheer will.
Smoke rose from his skin. But he didn't kneel.
Echidna stood firm, staring down Cecilus, ready to taunt.
"I wonder," she began, voice calm, "just how much you—"
Thunk.
A flash of silver—a kunai, buried in her back.
Her eyes widened.
She immediately teleported, warping space in an instant—but the moment she reappeared—
CRACK.
Halibelt's kick slammed toward her skull. She barely threw up a wall of light crystals, catching the impact and grinding to a stop—but her eyes narrowed.
In the brief moment of contact—four seconds—he had layered twenty... no, fifty-seven curses onto her body. Each one embedded like a leech, unseen but already working.
"Damn werewolf," she hissed.
But she didn't have time to react—
Cecilus burst out of the beam of Witch Light, smoke trailing from his shoulders, katana swinging with raw precision.
The blade slashed into her side—but instead of blood, her body turned to water, the sword cutting clean through, harmless.
"Cute," she muttered.
Then she snapped her fingers—and unleashed a yin magic wave, a pulse of withering black-white energy that tore through the air like spectral fire.
But she'd made a mistake.
She'd used this magic before. Against the Great Rabbit.
Halibelt grinned. He clapped his hands—and the shockwave tore through the air. A Sound Wave of Destruction, tuned to shatter Yin constructs.
The magic wave collapsed in on itself, and the backlash hit Echidna like a hammer—her own spell cracking across her form.
She stumbled.
Cecilus didn't wait. He jumped back, out of the sound wave's range, blades raised again, ready to go again.
Echidna stood between them now—cursed, staggered, bleeding mist, and for the first time, not smiling.
Halibelt and Cecilus lunged toward her, both aiming to finish it—
But Echidna's body exploded in black smoke, swallowing the air in a storm of rot and shadow.
She teleported, reappearing above them as the smoke thickened, wrapping around their limbs like chains.
Both men froze, unable to move.
Echidna hovered, arms folded, calm and distant. "I didn't expect to fight both of you at once. The strongest swordsman... and the most cursed werewolf."
Below, Halibelt's boots scraped, and Cecilus's knees trembled—they were moving, slowly, but surely.
"Oh?" Echidna tilted her head. "You can move inside my miasma? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
She raised a hand—and above both of them, two black holes opened, positioned directly over their bodies.
Then—she let time move again.
The gravitational force slammed down on them. The ground cracked beneath their feet. Bones creaked.
But they endured it.
The black holes began to shudder—and then they failed, unable to crush them. Gravity itself bent under their refusal to die.
Echidna lowered her hand, staring at them. The sky was silent.
"It looks like we're all that's left," she said softly.
They could all feel it.
The soldiers were gone. Everyone—dead. There were no more screams. No more sounds of battle. Just the wind, and the distant, echoing collapse of a dying world.
"Honestly," Echidna said, "I was worried you'd die fighting Reinhard."
Halibelt laughed. "Aw, were you worried about me?" He turned to her with a grin. "I thought you were too busy chasing Julius to notice. Thought I got friendzoned."
Cecilus let out a hoarse laugh, voice raspy. "Tch... this is the end of the world. Guess dumb flirting fits."
Halibelt looked up at the twisted sky. "Still... I gotta admit, Witch. The view? It's worth it. Can't deny it."
Cecilus shifted, eyeing him. "So, seriously... did you kill Reinhard?"
Halibelt grinned. "Sadly... I lost." He gave an exaggerated sigh. "He totally kicked my ass. Then I died."
Echidna stared. "...How sad."
Halibelt shot her a wink. "Aw, glad you care."
Echidna narrowed her eyes. "Halibelt. Be serious. Is Reinhard van Astrea dead?"
Halibelt paused, glancing to Cecilus, who gave the smallest nod.
Halibelt looked back at Echidna and smirked.
"I made sure to destroy his body. You won't be reviving him as a puppet."
Halibelt reached into the shadows at his feet, fingers closing around something massive. With a sharp motion, he pulled out a sword, gleaming unnaturally under the shattered sky.
He threw it.
The blade whistled through the air, spinning once—Reinhard's Divine Sword, blackened at the edge from battle, still pulsing faintly with that unreachable energy.
Cecilus jammed one of his katanas into the ground and caught the sword mid-flight, his feet skidding back from the sheer weight of it—not physical, but presence.
The air around it bent slightly.
He stared at the blade. "Tch... this thing's ridiculous."
He gave it a testing swing. Sparks flickered. The blade didn't even shift from its sealed state.
He glanced at Echidna and grinned. "Guess this old hag isn't worthy enough to draw it open."
Echidna raised a brow. "Maybe you're not worthy," she said coldly. "I am, after all, at my peak."
Halibelt laughed. "Peak? Please. Your prime was probably four hundred years ago, granny."
He smirked. "Still... you do look good for your age."
Cecilus nodded sagely. "As the main character, I'm immune to beauty spells or illusion magic. Wouldn't be interesting otherwise."
He gave Echidna a sideways glance. "But yeah, I'll admit it. Not bad."
Echidna grabbed her own face with her remaining hand, tilting her head mockingly.
"I don't know what's in the air lately," she mused, "but men seem to fall in love with me at first sight."
She started ticking fingers in the air.
"Roswaal. Then that weird clone of him. Al. Subaru. Julius..."
She gestured at the two of them. "And now you two? Hah. Maybe I'll start my own harem in the next world."
Cecilus turned toward Halibelt without warning—and swung the Divine Sword straight at his head.
Halibelt tilted his head slightly—just enough for the blade to miss by an inch, wind howling past.
Cecilus smirked. "Just testing the edge."
Halibelt grinned back. "Sure."
But his hand was still on the handle, his curse already crawling through it. A twisted pattern of runic death-marks slithered under Cecilus's grip.
Cecilus's grin didn't fade.
He knew.
Halibelt wanted to kill both of them.
And maybe, just maybe, he would.
Halibelt cracked his neck and gave Cecilus a calm glance.
"Nothing personal," he said, voice even. "Just doing my job."
Cecilus snorted, tossing Reinhard's divine blade behind him like scrap metal.
"Don't worry about it," he said, drawing both katanas and grinning. "I'm doing mine."
He stepped forward, taking a stance—sharp, coiled, lethal.
Across from him, Halibelt shrugged his kimono off his shoulders, revealing arms covered in glowing cursed seals—each one humming with deep, forbidden power.
He crouched low. The moment his hand touched the ground—cracks split the earth beneath him. The very terrain around him began to decay, as if reality was being peeled back and rotted away.
The pressure dropped. Air twisted. Magic screamed.
Then—
Echidna raised her hand.
Above it, six glowing spheres spun into existence, each radiating raw magical power.
Fire. Wind. Earth. Water. Yin. Yang.
Each element shimmered with its own color, and their orbits around her hand pulsed with unstable force, humming like they were alive.
Her expression was blank now—no jokes, no games.
"If we're doing this..." she whispered, "we're finishing it."
The three of them stood—no sides, no alliances, just killers with too much power and nothing left to lose.
A cursed beast.
A laughing swordsman.
A witch with balance and destruction in her palm.
The final battle was moments from erupting.
The battle lasted hours.
Cecilus moved at speeds the eye couldn't follow, dodging Echidna's relentless star barrages, light beams, and barrier spells. His katana carved through magical shields like paper, slicing through explosions and elemental storms.
Halibelt's aura of destruction disintegrated everything around him—terrain, undead, summoned constructs. Nothing could stay near him without melting into nothing. He kept Echidna constantly on the defensive.
She retaliated with vicious precision.
Black holes ripped open around Halibelt, forcing him to dodge in close quarters, while Cecilus fired precise ranged cuts, slicing through the air, aiming to split her attention.
Echidna, refusing to fall, cast again—reviving fallen Galan soldiers into twisted undead, sending them in waves.
Useless.
Halibelt's aura erased them in seconds. Cecilus cleaved half an army down with a single sweeping arc.
She began spamming magic.
Black holes.
Reverse gravity wells.
A Yang beam from the sky, scorching the clouds—dodged.
Yin spells to freeze time, paralyze, seal—resisted.
Fair magic detonated, creating an explosion six times the size of the Imperial Capital, the fire hotter than the sun.
Cecilus simply moved too fast—his body didn't stay in place long enough to absorb heat.
Halibelt cursed his own body to reject heat entirely. He walked through the flames untouched.
Echidna switched tactics—water magic aimed to lock their blood. Pointless. Their control of their bodies was absolute.
She tore the earth into the sky, trying to throw them off—but they moved from floating debris to debris like dancers between stars. Their speed made it look like the rocks were frozen in time.
She turned to wind magic, to blow them off course—nothing. They moved without needing air.
She cast Yin confusion fields, trying to disorient their minds—but their instincts dodged for them.
Still, Echidna fought.
She teleported constantly, her body already marked with wounds—her barriers cracked under relentless pressure. She blocked, weaved, countered, but it wasn't enough.
Cecilus slashed her—again. Blood sprayed.
Halibelt's aura grazed both of them, the force nearly ripping Cecilus apart, but he escaped.
Halibelt's curses kept him standing through punishment, but even he had to dodge some attacks. He used clones, mostly for defense—until one of Cecilus's katanas shattered under pressure.
Then it happened.
Halibelt got caught—struck in the back by a web-like cursed substance, sapping his strength, making his center of gravity vanish.
Cecilus grinned, flipped his grip, and slammed the hilt of his remaining katana into Halibelt's spine—knocking him down.
Then, at light speed—straight for Echidna's head.
She turned just in time, barely catching the blade mid-swing with a last-second barrier—cracking, barely holding.
But she didn't see the shadow behind Cecilus.
Halibelt's clone emerged from it—silent, perfect—and drove his cursed werewolf arm through Cecilus's chest, straight into Echidna's torso.
She gasped.
Too slow. Too wounded. Too cursed to react.
Halibelt's clawed hand wrapped around her heart.
Her eyes widened. Mouth open. No words.
And just like that—
Halibelt won.
Halibelt sat down slowly, spine cracked, body broken beyond natural healing. Blood stained the ground beneath him, cursed energy still twitching faintly across his skin.
Across from him, Echidna lay dying.
Her body flickered between solid and fading light, her voice soft and calm despite the ruin.
"...Congratulations," she said, lips barely moving. "You won. But in the grand scheme of things... it means nothing."
Halibelt didn't answer. He just breathed.
Echidna's eyes stared up at the fractured sky.
"My soul will return to my dimension. Give it... maybe four hundred years. I'll be back."
Nearby, Cecilus leaned against the ruined stone, bleeding from the chest. His eyes were dimming, life fading.
"That was a cheap shot," he coughed, smiling.
Halibelt gave a weak chuckle. "Didn't have much left in me. Spine's gone. If you'd cut me instead of going for Echidna..." He exhaled. "You would've won."
Cecilus laughed. "Yeah... but this was more fun."
He closed his eyes, satisfied.
Echidna turned her fading gaze to Halibelt.
"You need to find the Black Box. Inside it... is the Witch Factor. The one that rewinds time."
Her voice sharpened slightly.
"Subaru Natsuki cannot be allowed to get it. If he does, the Witch of Envy will drag him back. Again. And again. Until she finds a way to be free."
Halibelt didn't speak.
He just looked out.
The land was broken. Cracked mountains, glassed plains. But the sky was clear—for the first time in days, weeks, maybe longer. The stars above looked normal. Quiet. Still.
"...It's over," Halibelt said at last. "The world's already done. Maybe... maybe rewinding it really is better."
Echidna gave a tired smile. "If Satella is freed... she'll destroy everything. At least now, humanity can rebuild."
A long silence.
Then, quietly, Echidna's last words.
"It's my time now... I've got to go visit Julius. Settle things properly."
She closed her eyes, and her form began to dissolve into mist.
"...I hope next time... I have as much fun as this."
She was gone.
Halibelt sat in the silence, alone. He stared at the stars, untouched above the devastation.
The wind was gentle now.
The sky was normal—on a land completely destroyed.
He just... sat.
Halibelt sat in silence, eyes lifted to the sky.
It was... beautiful.
The land was torn, yes—split open, ripped apart by magic and war. Great cracks stretched across the world, once-mountains now valleys filled with crystal-clear water. The devastation hadn't disappeared.
But it had become something else.
Bearded vultures glided across warm air currents. In the far sky, a trio of dragons soared slowly, undisturbed for the first time in ages. The sun shined through a clean sky, touching every broken surface with gold. The wind whispered, not with mourning—but peace.
Just seconds ago, the world stood at the edge of annihilation.
Now?
Now it was a view worth admitting.
Halibelt stood.
His body was wrecked, but he moved anyway.
He turned his back on the battlefield—the place where Cecilus fell, where Echidna faded, where the old world died—and he began walking.
Toward a goal. Toward unfinished business.
He searched for the Black Box.
It didn't take long. Even hidden, even sealed, it wanted to be found. Resting silently within a crater, pulsing faintly. Still dangerous. Still waiting.
He picked it up. Held it in his hand.
Then, he turned.
There was still one thing left to do.
Find Natsuki Subaru.
Halibelt found them in a day.
He walked through a shattered forest, following traces of mana, pain, and regret until he saw them: a worn carriage, resting beneath the broken trees, pulled by a wounded ground dragon.
Inside, Subaru sat—hollow, head low, shoulders shaking, dead eyes staring ahead. The air around him was cold with despair.
The spirit girl, Beatrice, was gone. Emilia, the elf girl, sat nearby, tense, arms wrapped around herself.
She stepped forward, cautious. "If you came to kill us..."
Halibelt shook his head.
"I'm not a threat," he said. "I'm here to keep a promise. To a friend."
Emilia didn't trust him—how could she? But she didn't draw her weapon. She knew—if Halibelt had come to kill them, they'd already be dead.
They traveled together for two days, wordless at first. But slowly, they spoke.
They weren't bad people. Just broken.
On the third night, sitting by a dying fire, Subaru finally looked up.
"You said I was your friend... in another world?"
Halibelt nodded.
"I was."
Subaru stared at the flames.
"...You have the Black Box, don't you?"
Halibelt didn't answer for a moment. Then:
"I do."
"Can I have it?" Subaru's voice cracked. "Please."
"...Sorry," Halibelt said. "No."
Subaru didn't protest.
Halibelt looked out across the dead trees.
"The world survived. It's not worth gambling that again just for a 'better future.'"
Subaru nodded slowly. "...Thank you."
Halibelt gave a short breath. "Don't thank me. Thank Julius."
Subaru's eyes twitched. His fists clenched.
Halibelt saw it.
"He told me... get Emilia to you. Make sure you saw Rem again. That was his last request."
"...Julius..." Subaru hissed.
"You want to hate him. I get it," Halibelt said. "But he told me the truth. He regretted it. What he did. But it's not for me to decide."
He looked Subaru in the eye.
"He was my friend. I know what he did. I'm not blind. But this war? It was bigger than one mistake. Even if that mistake helped start it."
Subaru didn't reply.
Halibelt went on. "He asked me to tell you... don't hurt Rem. Don't touch her. Don't do something stupid. Just talk to her."
He looked toward the carriage, where Emilia sat staring into the sky.
"...You should be glad she still loves you."
Subaru turned to protest—but Halibelt cut him off.
"And Julius... he told me the rest too. Reinhard did it. He raped her."
Subaru froze.
"She's holding it in. To protect you. So you wouldn't leave her."
That night, Subaru went to her.
And Emilia broke.
She cried—screamed—into his chest, the first sound she had made that wasn't hollow. He held her all night. Let her speak. Let her break.
She had always been the one to support him. But now, he was the one giving it back.
He saw her clearly now.
Not as an untouchable symbol. Not as a perfect girl.
But as a young woman—mentally younger than her years, pushed into a world she was never ready for. Forced to grow up too fast.
And he—
He had used her.
In another world, he had pushed her. Treated her like a trophy. An end goal. He thought back to Rem, to his children. What he had... and what he lost.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
She looked up.
"It wasn't your fault. What Reinhard did. None of it. I love you. And I promise... you never have to hide anything from me again. We'll work through it."
He didn't make love to her.
Not because he didn't love her—
But because he was disgusted with himself.
Not her.
Himself.
With everything he knew—the other lives, the lies, the way he treated her—he couldn't bring himself to take more from her. Not yet.
He would stay. By her side.
Not out of guilt.
But because he should have been doing that all along.
They arrived at the mansion.
Somehow, it still stood. Everything around it was ruined—land split, trees twisted, sky once shattered—but the building remained untouched. And people were there, working. Rebuilding. Holding on.
Subaru stood at the gate, staring at the front door. He couldn't move.
His feet were frozen. His heart hammered.
He turned, about to leave.
But Emilia took his hand.
He stopped.
He didn't want to go in. He didn't want to see her. Not Rem. Not after everything.
He hated her.
He loved her.
He was broken.
But he had to talk. Ask why. Try to understand. Maybe even say sorry—for the letter he'd sent. The one where he told her he would kill her and Julius's child.
He didn't know what he'd do when he saw her.
Would he scream? Cry? Beg? Try to start over? Or would he just take Emilia and walk away, leave it all behind?
A maid appeared at the entrance, startled by their presence.
Before she could speak, Halibelt stepped forward.
"Julius asked me to bring these two here."
The maid hesitated.
Halibelt looked at Subaru.
"Change your life," he said simply. "That's your part. I've done mine."
Then he stepped aside.
Subaru stood in front of the doors.
He reached out—and pushed them open.
Inside, standing in the entry hall, was Rem.
She tried to stand tall, expression cold, arms crossed—but he saw it.
She'd been crying.
Behind her, Ram held the baby in her arms. Her eyes were hard. She said nothing, only glaring at Subaru.
Then Rem turned to her sister and gave a quiet nod.
"...Please leave us."
Ram didn't argue.
She held the child close, stepped out, and closed the door behind her—without looking back.
Now it was just Subaru. Emilia. Rem.
The silence was unbearable.
No one knew what to say.
But it was time.
What happened behind those doors was private.
Between Rem, Subaru, and Emilia.
No one else.
Halibelt.
He turned, stepping away from the mansion, walking into the distance. The wind was gentle. The sky was calm. The world was broken—but healing.
What happened with their lives... it wasn't his business.
It wasn't for him to decide how anyone should live.
But still—
He was curious.
Curious how Subaru would end his story.
Behind him, the mansion doors closed.
And that was where the story ended.