Chapter 47: The Otaku Plans (And Everyone Forgets Sleep Exists)
The door stayed closed for a long time after the Archmage left.
Not because anyone expected her to return.
Because no one wanted to be the first to speak.
Meliodas didn't mind silences. They were useful. They let pressure build in useful directions, forced people to fill them with things they hadn't planned to say.
Kaelen sat heavily on the edge of the bed, hands clasped loosely between his knees, staring at nothing. His breathing was steady now—controlled—but his knuckles were still white.
Rem had not moved from Meliodas's side. Her shoulder pressed against his arm, tail curled loosely around her own ankle like she was grounding herself without admitting it. She wasn't looking at anyone. Just breathing.
Bud remained on Meliodas's shoulder, glow dim but steady, claws hooked lightly into the coat fabric. Tired. Still watching.
Edrin sat at the desk with his back to them, quill moving. The scratch of it was the only sound in the room.
Meliodas let it continue for three full minutes.
Then he spoke.
"Status."
Kaelen looked up first. "Master?"
"Status," Meliodas repeated. "What we know. What we don't. What comes next."
Rem's ear flicked. "That's a lot for right after an Archmage."
"That's exactly when you do it."
She considered that, then nodded slowly.
Fair point.
Kaelen straightened, visibly pulling himself together. It was impressive how fast he did it now. A few weeks ago, he would have spiraled for an hour. Now he just breathed once, deep, and started thinking.
"The Archmage knows about Bud," he said carefully. "She looked at him. She warned us about the Fair Court."
Meliodas nodded. "She also didn't name what Bud is."
Kaelen blinked. "She... didn't. You're right. She could have."
"Could have. Didn't. That means something."
Rem tilted her head. "Like what?"
"Either she doesn't know the full classification, or she knows and decided we're not ready to hear it spoken aloud."
Bud's claws flexed.
'Both options are annoying.'
Meliodas didn't respond aloud, but Bud caught the pulse of agreement through the bond.
Edrin's quill paused.
Then continued.
Meliodas glanced at him. "Problem?"
Edrin's voice was quieter than before. "Just... organizing. It's more than I remembered."
"Take your time. Get it right."
Edrin nodded without turning.
Rem watched him for a moment, then looked back at Meliodas. "Do you actually think he'll give us everything?"
"No."
Her brow rose.
Meliodas continued. "But he'll give enough. Fear does that. The truth-bind does the rest."
Kaelen shifted. "Can she really enforce that? From a distance?"
"Yes."
That came from Edrin himself, still writing.
Kaelen blinked. "How?"
Edrin's quill scratched faster. "Archmages don't make promises they can't keep. The bind she placed isn't a spell—it's a condition. If I lie about infernal matters, the magic in my own body will reject it. Painfully."
Rem winced. "That's dark."
"That's survival."
Meliodas filed that away. Useful. Also slightly horrifying, but useful.
He turned back to Kaelen.
"Your training starts tomorrow."
Kaelen straightened. "Yes, Master."
"Not here. Somewhere private. She was right about that."
Rem perked up. "I know places."
Meliodas looked at her.
She smiled sweetly. "Quiet. Hidden. No witnesses."
"...Why do you know places like that?"
Her smile widened. "I'm interesting."
Bud sent a pulse of dry amusement.
Meliodas chose not to ask follow-up questions.
Edrin's quill stopped.
He sat still for a moment, then spoke without turning.
"There's more."
The room focused on him.
Edrin's voice was careful now, measured. "The Ashen Witness didn't just want a breach. They wanted a harvest."
Kaelen's hands tightened. "Harvest of what?"
"Bloodlines. Not just death—potency. They were measuring Kaelen's compatibility because they wanted to know if he was worth taking alive."
Rem's ears flattened. "For what?"
Edrin's voice dropped. "For grafting."
Silence.
Cold, ugly silence.
Meliodas's expression didn't change, but something behind his eyes went very still.
"Explain."
Edrin finally turned. His face was pale, but steady.
"High-ranking infernals can't enter easily. The world rejects them. But if they have a vessel—a living vessel with compatible blood—they can anchor deeper. Longer. Without burning the host out immediately."
Kaelen's breath caught.
Edrin looked at him with something almost like pity. "Your bloodline isn't just royal. It's old. Old enough that the thing in that crack could feel it through a half-formed breach. That's rare. That's valuable."
Rem's voice came out sharper than usual. "Valuable how?"
"Valuable enough that they'll try again."
Meliodas absorbed that.
Filed it.
Added it to the growing list of problems that had decided to orbit his life like particularly aggressive moons.
"The Archmage knows this," he said. It wasn't a question.
Edrin nodded. "She has to. She didn't react when I said it."
"Because she already knew."
"Yes."
Kaelen looked ill. "So I'm... bait?"
Meliodas answered before fear could root. "You're a target. There's a difference."
Kaelen stared at him.
"A target can be protected. Bait is something you throw away." Meliodas met his eyes. "I'm not throwing you away."
Kaelen's throat worked.
He nodded once.
Quickly.
Like he needed to before his voice broke.
Rem watched the exchange silently, then leaned a little harder against Meliodas's arm. Not romantic. Just present.
Bud's glow flickered once.
Warm.
Agreement.
Edrin turned back to the desk. "I'll have the full list by morning. Sites. Names. Signs. Everything I remember."
"Do that."
Meliodas looked at the window.
Southval was dark now. The clean streets glowed faintly under lanternlight. Quiet. Peaceful.
Lying.
Because clean places always did.
He thought about the forest pressure. The drake. The Fair Court. The Archmage's parting words. Edrin's confession. Kaelen's bloodline.
All threads.
All waiting.
Kaelen's voice came quieter. "Master... when do we leave?"
"When we're ready."
"And when is that?"
Meliodas considered.
Edrin's confession. Kaelen's training. The Archmage's warning. The drake. The Fair Court. The pressure in the forest that hadn't faded. Rem's unpredictable family. The cult's remaining pieces.
"Soon."
Rem snorted softly. "Vague. Helpful."
"I'm good at vague."
She laughed despite herself.
Kaelen almost smiled.
Even Bud's glow warmed a fraction.
Edrin kept writing.
The night stretched on.
Outside, the town stayed quiet.
Inside, planning began.
Not loud planning.
Not dramatic.
Just the slow, careful work of people who had learned that survival meant thinking three moves ahead.
Meliodas watched the window for another moment.
Then he let out a breath.
'One step at a time.'
Bud's pulse came back immediately.
Warm.
Tired.
Present.
'One step.'
Yeah.
That would have to be enough.
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[END OF CHAPTER 47]