No Victory for You

Subaru had reached the vicinity of the mansion faster than he anticipated. The route had taken a toll on him, but haste had been necessary. Still, approaching the estate directly without caution would've been foolish. So, he came to a halt at a safe distance, crouching low behind a cluster of thick bushes. His eyes darted across the hillside, scanning for movement, traps, or unwelcome surprises.

[Yang Travel - Deactivated]

The brilliant aura that had wrapped around his body like a burning mantle flickered out, fading into nothingness. A wave of dizziness struck him as if his body were reminding him of the toll he'd just paid. Subaru stumbled slightly, knees weakening, and he braced himself against the rough bark of a tree nearby. Sweat dripped from his temple, cold against the skin, and mixed with the dust and bark under his palm.

"Haah... That took a lot out of me..."

His breath came in ragged gasps, chest rising and falling like a tide that had lost its rhythm. It felt as if his lungs had been scraped clean of every ounce of oxygen. The mana coursing through his veins now moved sluggishly, drained, as if burdened by invisible weights.

Above him, a shadow flickered into view. Like a ripple in the air, it shifted form until it coalesced into a floating figure. Flugel emerged from the twilight, his expression unreadable at first—until his lips curled into a half-smile.

"Of course you're exhausted," Flugel commented, voice laced with dry amusement. His tone was distant, bordering on dismissive. "You're not compatible with Yang. It doesn't suit you. You rely on something that your body still resists. And besides... strength always demands its toll."

Subaru let out a bitter breath. The words stung more because they were true. He'd known the nature of Yang from the beginning—how volatile, how brutal it was—but he had hoped he could master it faster. He had hoped to push through the pain.

He clenched his hands into fists, forcing the tremors to subside. Slowly, he closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and gathered himself.

[Yin Step - Activated]

If Yang Travel was a roaring fireball tearing through space, Yin Step was a whisper on the wind. It didn't demand mana in torrents, nor did it light up the night sky like a beacon. Instead, it allowed him to melt into shadows, to become one with the darkness itself.

Where one burned everything in its path, the other left nothing—not even footprints. It was stealth, silence, and subtlety.

Subaru's eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom ahead. The soft rustle of dry leaves on the ground whispered beneath the wind, the only sound that accompanied his movement. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and vanished into the obscurity.

Russel's mansion stood tall in the distance, a structure both known and strangely alien in the moonlight. Its familiar lines now carried the weight of new secrets, recent changes. Subaru flowed through the shadows, his body merging with the dark like ink in water.

One window near the east wing was slightly ajar—just as he remembered. The detail stuck with him from his previous visits, a small convenience in his otherwise complex entry plan. He reached it in seconds and slipped through without making a sound.

Inside, the air was warmer, heavier. The muffled creaks of the wooden floorboards told stories of movement—work, urgency, late nights. But the hallways were empty now. Quiet. Echoing.

Subaru padded through the corridor with silent, measured steps. His form became little more than a shifting shadow sliding along the walls. This route was etched into his memory; he had walked it enough times to move even blindfolded.

He arrived at the door to his quarters but didn't bother to use it. Instead, he phased directly through the shadow cast by its frame and emerged in the center of the dimly lit room.

Russel was hunched over his desk, his figure slouched, spine curled forward as though the weight of the kingdom itself rested on his shoulders. Letters, folded documents, maps, and scrolls lay scattered across the surface. Royal-sealed envelopes peeked from between piles. A porcelain cup filled with what used to be coffee sat forgotten among the chaos—its contents now long cold.

Subaru stepped from the wall with a soft sigh, his voice like a knife through silk:

"Yo. Behaving yourself, I hope?"

Russel jerked upright, startled. The suddenness of the voice broke through his tunnel vision like a bell tolling at midnight. His pen slipped from his fingers and clattered against the wood.

"Ah... Subaru-dono."

His voice was hoarse, and his eyelids heavy with fatigue, but he didn't seem surprised—only caught off-guard. Subaru's arrivals had long since defied expectation.

With a smooth motion, Subaru dropped into the chair across from him. He kicked his feet out, resting them on the edge of the table, and leaned back with the calm of someone who owned the room. It was a posture that shouldn't have commanded authority—but somehow, it did.

"Fill me in on what's happened while I was gone. And be detailed. I've also got something for you to handle soon."

Russel inhaled deeply, running a hand down his face before nodding. Subaru was many things, but boring wasn't one of them. Every time he appeared, something changed. And just as quickly as he came, he would disappear again, leaving behind ripples no one could track.

But today... there was an unfamiliar sharpness in his gaze. Something simmering beneath the surface.

Russel reached for a stack of papers and began summarizing:

"The Witch Cult has been active near Wolgarm Valley. Several sightings confirmed, with increased movement compared to prior months. Tension is rising. Separately, the White Whale has been spotted in the eastern reaches of the Giant Deep Mist—about a hundred kilometers out. No sign of deviation from its usual path, but its proximity to the valley has us concerned.

"In terms of the royal candidates, not much has changed officially. No major political shifts or declarations. However, there are persistent rumors. Emilia-sama's support is growing—slowly, but steadily. Public sentiment is beginning to warm."

Subaru sat in silence, absorbing the report. His fingers drummed faintly on the arm of the chair, but his expression remained blank, thoughtful. Pieces of a puzzle moved in his mind—connecting, shifting.

Russel cleared his throat and leaned back.

"That's everything I have so far, Subaru-dono. Is there anything else you'd like me to look into?"

The question hung in the air, and the flicker of candlelight cast long shadows across both their faces.

Subaru rose to his feet with slow, deliberate movements, the creak of the wooden floor beneath him almost the only sound in the room. He clasped his hands behind his back, drawing in a quiet breath before fixing his gaze on the darkness beyond the window, where faint outlines of distant lights shimmered like stars fallen to earth.

"Buy me a mansion—somewhere near the capital," he said calmly, though the weight behind his words was unmistakable. "Somewhere peaceful. Elegant. Isolated. I need clarity, and I need quiet. And make sure the information network remains untouched. I want every whisper, every rumor, every shift in power at my fingertips. Information has become far more valuable to me than gold."

Russell, seated at his desk, rubbed his forehead as if trying to massage away the fatigue of a thousand unspoken worries. His voice came low, scratchy with caution, but curious all the same. "A fine mansion? That part's easy. But... who's footing the bill for this little dream?"

Subaru turned to face him with a grin that barely masked the steel underneath. One hand slipped into his coat pocket, while the other gestured forward, as if offering something intangible but irresistible.

"You are. Don't look so surprised. I'll pay you back once I'm free from Roswaal's financial leash. Think of it as an investment—an investment in a future no one but me can see."

Russell stared at him for a long moment, the silence between them thickening like a storm cloud. His eyes searched Subaru's face, and what he found was something more dangerous than recklessness—conviction. A man not guessing his way forward, but one who had already decided the shape of things to come. With a reluctant sigh and a slight nod, Russell yielded.

Subaru took a step toward the exit, but paused midway. Something else tugged at his thoughts. He turned partially, his voice casual but firm.

"Oh, and there's one more thing. I've heard the name Otto Suwen tossed around. A man who owes you a sizable debt, if the stories are true. I want you to find him. When I arrive in the capital, he should be waiting for me. From now on, he'll be working under my command. As for the debt? I trust you'll handle that, dear Russell-chan!!."

The merchant let out a long, exhausted sigh. Each time Subaru reappeared in his life, he brought with him a different version of himself—sharper, bolder, and darker than the last.

From a dim corner of the room, Flugel let out a dry, uncanny chuckle. It was a sound that hinted at mischief, or perhaps chaos. "Strangely enough... this is getting fun."

And just like that, Subaru dissolved into the shadows once more.

[Yin Step - Active]

His business at Russell's estate had gone smoother and quicker than expected. With practiced efficiency, he completed every requirement, submitted all necessary documentation, and exchanged brief but courteous farewells with the bureaucrats who had accompanied him. Yet even as he left the estate behind, a quiet unease gnawed at his chest like an itch just out of reach. It wasn't the tasks themselves that troubled him. It was what came next.

One name kept echoing through his thoughts like a drumbeat—Crusch Karsten.

The White Whale wasn't merely a haunting memory from a previous life or battle. It symbolized something much larger: the pivot point of history. An entity that had warped fate, broken families, and rewritten alliances. For Subaru, it was never just about defeating a beast. It was about rewriting the rules of the world around him. And to do that, he needed Crusch.

[Yin Step] still active, he moved through the twilight like a passing breeze, silent and unseen. His figure blended with the shadows, his movements barely stirring the air. Even with the magical haze dulling his senses, the path beneath his feet felt familiar. He could count the turns with muscle memory alone.

...

By the time he arrived at the grand gates of the Karsten estate, the sun had already begun its descent into the western sky. Rays of amber and crimson streamed through the gaps in the clouds, draping the mansion in a golden veil. Time itself felt suspended. The courtyard was paved with polished stones that gleamed like sacred relics, each step echoing with solemn grace. The structure ahead stood tall, proud, disciplined—a monument to order amidst a world of shifting chaos.

Subaru stood in silence for a moment, letting the atmosphere soak into his skin. The grandeur of the place hadn't faded, not in the slightest. If anything, it now seemed to resonate more with the role he had to play.

It didn't take long for the gate guards to notice him. They watched his approach with sharpened gazes, hands never straying far from their weapons. Yet something in his posture, in the quiet force of his presence, made them hesitate.

Subaru strode forward confidently, the wind tugging at his coat. He stopped in front of one of the guards and spoke in a clear, steady tone:

"I am Natsuki Subaru. I seek an immediate audience with Crusch Karsten."

Recognition flickered in the guard's eyes. After a moment's pause, he gave a respectful bow.

"You are known to us—of Lady Emilia's camp. Crusch-sama is currently engaged in matters of commerce. The estate has received many merchants today, and she remains occupied. However, I shall inform her of your presence without delay. Until then, you may wait in the garden, Subaru-dono."

Subaru nodded silently. Though he wasn't visibly agitated, he could feel the hours pressing down on him like unseen weights. Every second mattered now.

Escorted by the guard, he stepped through the gates and entered the garden grounds. And there, in that familiar place, his breath caught.

It was as he remembered. The same gravel pathways lined with immaculate stones. The same hedges, sculpted with care and precision. The same feeling of calm that wrapped around the place like a warm blanket. A fragment of time, perfectly preserved.

But Subaru had changed. And soon, so would everything else.

The moment he turned his gaze forward, that familiar figure immediately caught his eye. Even from the corner of his vision, there was no mistaking who it was. Wilhelm van Astrea—the Sword Devil—stood in his usual spot, sword in hand, moving alone with grace and lethality. Every motion of his blade was precise, flowing like a deadly dance with the wind. His blade sang through the air, slicing invisible foes with rhythm and purpose, as though locked in an eternal battle only he could see.

Subaru smiled faintly, murmuring to himself: "No matter his age, he never stops training... A true warrior."

Hovering silently above, Flugel broke the silence. His voice, like a ghost whispering through shadow, carried a haunting calm: "They don't call him the Sword Devil just because of his strength. This discipline... that's the real difference. His will is as sharp as his blade. Many swing swords. Few embody them."

Subaru began walking toward Wilhelm. A quiet excitement stirred in his chest, mixing with a reverent kind of tension. This wasn't just a chance encounter—it was a meeting with someone whose legacy he had admired from afar. Somehow, this moment felt heavier, like the world had slowed down to witness it.

When he reached the old swordsman, he spoke up: "May I join you?"

Wilhelm lifted his head and looked at him. There was neither mockery nor warmth in his expression—only sharp eyes evaluating, measuring. His gaze was piercing, like it could see through Subaru's words into the essence beneath them: "Hm? You must be Subaru. What brings you here?"

Subaru responded respectfully, his voice composed yet tinged with awe: "I came to speak with Crusch-sama on an important matter, but I was told she's currently unavailable. So while I wait... I hoped I could spend some time with you."

Wilhelm delivered one final slash through the air, then slid his sword smoothly back into its sheath. His movements were clean, silent, and deliberate: "And by 'spend time,' what exactly do you mean, boy?"

Subaru took a deep breath. This wasn't just a casual meeting. To him, this was the realization of a long-standing dream: "I admire you deeply, Wilhelm-san. Your legend as the Sword Devil precedes you. Just meeting you is an honor in itself. But if I may be bold... I wouldn't want to miss the chance to spar with a living legend. To test myself. To learn something only a blade like yours could teach me."

Wilhelm paused, and a subtle smirk played at the corner of his lips. He rolled his shoulders and drew his sword once again. The sound of steel sliding from its sheath was soft, but it echoed like a gong in Subaru's chest: "Then I suppose a match is in order. To be honest, I've been curious about your strength as well. I've overheard a few stories floating around Crusch's camp about you—reckless acts, unlikely victories. Let's see how much truth there is in them."

Subaru bowed deeply, his heart pounding—not from fear, but from sheer anticipation. He slowly raised his hand. [Duskveil] responded at once, forming in his grip with a shadowy elegance—silent, but heavy with presence. The blade pulsed faintly in his hand, as though aware of the coming clash.

"Don't hold back. I won't either."

Wilhelm pointed his sword at him. His eyes held not fire, but a calm like tempered steel: "I expect nothing less, boy. Now show me... how much what you've learned is truly worth."

A soft breeze brushed across the training garden. A bird flapped its wings in the distance. For a fleeting moment, time itself seemed to hesitate. Surrounded by the silent testimony of blooming flowers, the two warriors locked eyes. And then—

Who would make the first move?

Subaru and Wilhelm stood motionless, their gazes locked in a silent pact of mutual respect. In that frozen instant, the only thing moving was the dust particles dancing in the breeze. One single step, one single motion could shatter the stillness and declare the duel begun. The garden around them, once peaceful, now felt like the stage of something sacred.

Subaru's heart pounded like war drums inside his chest. Yet above that thundering rhythm, one thought rang clear in his mind: he would not use mana. That was his firm decision. If he relied on mana, there would be nothing to learn from this duel. He had to test not only his skills, but his resolve. To see how far he'd come without leaning on the crutch of magic.

He remembered all the times he'd fallen, all the lives he'd lost, and the people he'd vowed to protect. Each memory became a thread in the resolve he now carried. If he was to stand beside legends, he had to fight like one.

He took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts. The world faded, leaving only the ground beneath his feet and the man before him.

"I'm ready," he whispered inwardly—and took the first step.

The duel had begun.

Without warning, Subaru lunged forward, eyes locking onto Wilhelm with fierce determination. Duskveil carved through the air like a spark, the blade's path a shadow slicing across the light. His motion was driven not just by instinct but by pressure—the pressure of expectation, of growth, of proving he belonged on the battlefield with a legend. But Wilhelm, as if he had predicted the move days in advance, responded with a simple flick of his wrist. His sword flashed and deflected the dagger cleanly, effortlessly.

CLANG!

The sound echoed louder than it should have, as if the moment itself reverberated through the ground beneath them. The impact knocked Subaru off balance, his feet slipping slightly in the churned dirt, yet he didn't waste the moment. Slamming his foot down with force, he shattered the ground beneath slightly, using the recoil to launch himself in the opposite direction. While airborne, he twisted his body midair, redirecting his momentum, and swung Duskveil once more with fluid precision, the weapon humming faintly as it sliced through the air.

SLASH!

This second strike caught Wilhelm off-guard. Subaru's fighting style defied all tradition. It was chaotic, instinctive, and entirely improvised—yet not without merit. He moved like someone who had fought death itself, not once but dozens of times. Wilhelm attempted to parry again, but a split-second hesitation cost him. A shallow yet clean cut traced across his cheek, leaving a line of crimson in its wake.

As blood slid down Wilhelm's face, Subaru landed and immediately dropped back into a stance, breath sharp and quick. His resolve remained unshaken, if not bolstered by the hit. But this time, Wilhelm's posture shifted subtly. His stance lowered—more serious, more focused. He didn't even glance at the wound. He didn't need to. He came forward without a word.

His sword danced—not with flair, but with deadly economy. Each strike was fast, heavy, and exacting. Subaru was forced to retreat, step by step, barely keeping up. Wilhelm's reach was longer, his control relentless. Every time Subaru tried to close the gap with his daggers, he found himself blocked, cornered, repelled. It was like trying to step through a storm of steel.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Each clash echoed like a bell tolling through the open field. Sparks flew with every meeting of blades, and the ground around them bore the marks of their ferocity. Finally, Subaru leapt backward, catching a moment's breath. His chest heaved, but his lips curled into a grin. "This is great... I might have to get serious."

Then came a voice, silent to the world but sharp in his mind. Flugel watched from the edge of the battlefield, his form wreathed in translucent wisps, but his message was aimed straight into Subaru's consciousness:

"You may use abilities that don't require mana. Teaching through total restriction is useless. Controlled freedom, however—that's instructive."

Subaru squinted and gave a small nod. A wordless acknowledgment.

[Advanced Dagger Technique - Active]

[Phantom Drift - Active]

[Fade - Active]

In a blink, Subaru's silhouette vanished from Wilhelm's sight. It was like a ghost slipping between breaths. The air shifted subtly, and a strange pressure swept the clearing. Wilhelm didn't flinch, but his senses sharpened. His body moved instinctively, listening not with his ears, but with something deeper—the honed intuition of a man who had lived a hundred battlefields.

It was as though the world had swallowed Subaru whole. The rustle of the leaves dimmed. Even the wind grew hesitant. Yet the rising chill at Wilhelm's back was real.

He pivoted instantly, his blade arcing behind him just in time to intercept the incoming blow. Subaru's dagger had come from an impossible angle—out of Wilhelm's peripheral blind spot. But once again, instinct had saved the veteran swordsman.

Subaru was thrown off from the block, flipping backward. He landed on one foot, skidding slightly across the dirt and grass, panting.

"Oh, come on! You weren't supposed to see me!"

Wilhelm chuckled, unfazed by the cut on his face. "I didn't see you. But the danger behind me—it was loud enough to hear."

Subaru exhaled deeply, rising to full height. Sweat glistened along his forehead, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "So... do we continue?" His voice was a blend of anticipation and fatigue, tinted with admiration.

Wilhelm shook his head gently. "You're holding back. Relying on raw force. but I am too. So let's call it even for now."

With a quiet sigh, Subaru dispelled Duskveil, the dagger melting into faint motes of violet light. "I have to admit... your instincts are downright monstrous."

Wilhelm sheathed his sword. A satisfied, almost warm smile formed on his face. "Hah! After so many years of fighting, I should hope so. But the potential I see in you... that's another matter entirely."

His words sparked something within Subaru—a flicker of fire, faint but real. This fight wasn't just a test of skill. It was a mirror. A reflection of his limits, of the warrior he was becoming.

And that journey was just beginning.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes watched quietly from the perimeter of the field—Crusch Karsten. Arms crossed calmly in front of her, she stood alongside Felix, who looked as cheerful as ever, though his eyes gleamed with a deeper understanding of what had just transpired. Crusch's gaze was focused, unwavering. Yet a faint smile touched her lips.

"He's growing," she murmured. "Faster than I expected."

Felix chuckled. "Mhm~ And I think he just found a new spark, nya~."

Wilhelm stepped forward the moment he noticed her presence. "Crusch-sama, how long have you been watching?" he asked, his voice carrying the respectful tone he was known for.

Crusch began walking calmly toward the field, her footsteps muffled by the grass beneath her boots. "I arrived in the middle of your training session," she said evenly. "But when I saw that Subaru was here as well, I decided to observe. My curiosity got the better of me."

Subaru stretched his shoulders slightly and tilted his head. "So? What did you think of what you saw?"

Before Crusch could answer, Felix chimed in with an excited sparkle in his eyes. "It was so cool~! Subaru-kyun, you were totally dazzling out there!"

Subaru smiled and gave him a modest nod before turning his attention back to Crusch. She fixed her eyes on him, sharp and evaluative. "Your technique with the dagger is quite impressive. You mentioned being trained by Halibel-dono back in Kararagi, correct? It shows. Your movements are unorthodox—complex and hard to read. That unpredictability makes you dangerous to your enemies. But... take care not to let it endanger yourself. Be disciplined. Controlled."

Pride flickered across Subaru's face. He nodded, his voice light but genuine. "Yes, I've come this far thanks to Halibel-san. His training style was truly unique."

Crusch paused for a moment, then met Subaru's gaze, her expression turning serious. "Very well then, Subaru-dono. What was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

Subaru studied her face for several seconds, weighing her composure. When he finally spoke, the words came softly, but carried weight. "The White Whale."

The air seemed to change at once. Crusch's expression darkened, her pupils narrowing, her gaze sharpening. A palpable tension settled over the field.

"We'll speak in my office," she said curtly.

Without waiting, she turned and strode off at a brisk pace. Subaru followed without hesitation, and Felix quickly caught up, falling into step beside him.

"Subaru-kyun... what do you know about the White Whale?" Felix asked, his voice tinged with honest curiosity.

Subaru glanced sideways at him, voice low and cryptic. "You'll find out soon enough." 

After a short walk, the group arrived at Crusch Karsten's office—a large room filled with wooden furniture, tall bookshelves, and maps pinned to the walls like battle scars. Subaru and Crusch sat across from each other while Wilhelm and Felix stood silently nearby.

Crusch was the first to speak. "Alright then, Subaru-dono. What do you know about the White Whale?"

Subaru leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked onto hers with unwavering seriousness. "I know you intend to hunt it. And I know something that could prove extremely useful to you."

Crusch's shoulders stiffened, though she kept her posture composed. "When did you learn that the Karsten Faction planned to go to war with the White Whale?"

Subaru rested his chin on his hand in a thoughtful gesture. "No one told me directly. But over the past few months, I've noticed a pattern. Most of the dragon carriages arriving at your estate were loaded with armor and heavy weaponry—swords, spears, shields. Either you were preparing for war against a massive creature, or bracing for a rebellion."

He gave a small smile. "And your speech during the royal meeting didn't help. You said something bold was coming, but you didn't say what. That left my mind spinning with possibilities. Turns out, I guessed right."

He laced his fingers together, calmly watching her reaction.

Crusch, almost without thinking, brought a finger to her lip and bit down gently. The thought crossed her mind: This boy acts like a fool sometimes, but underneath it all, there's a frightening sharpness.

She exhaled deeply, then assumed a more composed expression. "Since you already know, there's no point in hiding it. Yes, we plan to go to war with the White Whale. Now... what's this information you claim I'll need, Subaru-dono?"

Subaru's smile had begun to twist into something unrecognizable—warped and crooked, a dark glint steadily intensifying in his eyes. It began subtly, a barely noticeable shift, but to those present, it quickly became impossible to ignore. This was no longer the Natsuki Subaru they had come to know. Something—no, someone—else had taken the reins, lurking just beneath his skin. Every word that now fell from his lips sounded like it came from a void, echoing with a malice too polished to be accidental.

"I know where the White Whale will appear," he declared, his voice drenched in a mocking calm that made the air feel colder, as if winter itself had slipped into the room.

The room froze in time. Crusch, Felix, and Wilhelm were immobilized, caught somewhere between disbelief and instinctual dread. Not a single word, not even the rustle of breath. It was as if the world itself held its breath to listen. Subaru's voice didn't merely echo—it settled like a curse, thick and suffocating.

Crusch turned her head slowly toward him. Her eyes, always composed and resolute, now shimmered with something rawer. Not shock. Not confusion. Fear. The kind that didn't come from a threat, but from an understanding that something far worse had just been invited into the room.

"What do you want in exchange for this information, Subaru?" she asked at last, her voice low and edged with gravel, like she was forcing it through a tight space in her throat.

Subaru didn't answer immediately. His gaze wandered, distant and hollow, as if he were peering through memories that only he could see—memories drenched in ash and sorrow. When his focus finally returned, his eyes locked with hers, sharp and unrelenting.

"For now, I ask nothing," he said, each word carefully measured. "But the day will come when I make a request. And when I do... it must be granted. Unconditionally. No hesitation. No inquiry. Just your word."

Felix's eyes widened with alarm, his expression shattering like glass. He leaned in swiftly toward Crusch, whispering something frantic and urgent into her ear. The words were inaudible to the rest, but their effect was immediate. Crusch tensed, her posture no longer relaxed but taut, coiled like a blade waiting to be drawn.

"And how do we know your information is accurate?" she asked again, this time more assertively. Her tone was sharper, but the flicker of doubt behind it betrayed her growing unease.

Subaru's smile returned, broader now, even more grotesque. He tilted his head, almost playfully, as if enjoying a private joke.

"The Divine Protection you're depending on—it doesn't react to lies, does it? And you're not feeling anything right now, are you? That means everything I've said is true. Isn't that right...

Crusch-sama~?"

Crusch blinked. Her throat moved in a subtle swallow. The Divine Protection never failed. A single falsehood and it would tighten around her chest like an invisible vice. But now... there was nothing. Not even the hint of a pulse out of place.

What she didn't know—what none of them knew—was that her Divine Protection had already been quietly deactivated. Sabotaged. Tampered with by Flugel in silence, like a phantom brushing past an open door. It no longer protected her. It no longer functioned. She was walking blind and didn't even realize it.

From the shadows beyond the flickering light of the room, Flugel watched, a grin curling over his pale, cadaverous face. This was his orchestration—his masterpiece. Subaru's performance, the chilling precision of his manipulation, the quiet unraveling of Crusch's certainty—it was all part of his composition. A move played with such elegance and cruelty that it made even chaos look like art.

Crusch lowered her gaze slightly, not in defeat, but in acknowledgment. The battlefield had shifted. This was no longer a negotiation—it was a reckoning. She raised her head again, steel returning to her eyes.

"Whatever your future request may be... I accept, Natsuki Subaru. I only hope you don't betray that trust."

Subaru clapped slowly. Not in appreciation, but in mockery. His hands met with hollow slaps that echoed like the tolling of a ceremonial bell.

"Then we have an agreement," he said, the words delivered like a final verse to an unholy prayer.

His tone shifted. It lost its playfulness and turned cold, deliberate.

"The White Whale will appear in the Giant Mist Forest... four days from now."

Silence returned—but this time, it was different. It wasn't the silence of shock. It was the silence that came before a landslide. A stillness too heavy, too knowing.

Subaru turned away. The sound of his boots against the stone floor was the only thing to follow. Steady. Intentional. Like the toll of a countdown. He reached the door, hand poised on the handle, then paused.

He looked back. His eyes, now glacial and unyielding, met Crusch's.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, voice low but piercing. The kind of voice that cut without needing to raise itself.

He didn't blink. "You and your army... don't stand a chance against it."

The words hit like a stormfront. In their wake, nothing remained untouched. Fear, confusion, defiance—all of it clashed in the silence he left behind.

The door creaked closed with aching finality. On the other side, Subaru disappeared into the corridor. But the unease he left behind lingered like smoke from a fire that refused to die out.

And in the darkest corner of the room, hidden from all eyes, Flugel kept smiling. Wide. Endless. Triumphant.

As Subaru stepped out of the heavy iron gates of the Karsten mansion, he realized that night had already taken full hold of the sky. Darkness had wrapped itself around the world like a velvet shroud, the last embers of daylight long extinguished. A cool breeze brushed across his skin, carrying with it the scent of distant trees and damp stone. He exhaled slowly, watching the faint mist of his breath disappear into the night, then tilted his head back to gaze up at the stars. They glittered above him like scattered diamonds, radiant and endless in the nearly cloudless sky. The soft glow of the streetlamps cast elongated shadows along the cobbled road, illuminating the edges of reality just enough to make everything feel surreal.

He paused, standing there as if caught between two worlds—behind him, the silhouette of the Karsten mansion, proud and silent, already beginning to fade from memory like the final image of a dream upon waking.

"Maybe I should hang around here for a while," he muttered to himself, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He wasn't sure whether it was the night's stillness or the lingering sense of unease in his chest that made him want to stay a little longer. Perhaps it was the illusion of safety, or just the fear of confronting whatever lay ahead. Deep down, he felt a gnawing reluctance to be alone again.

But that moment of hesitation didn't last.

Without warning, a crackling sound split the calm like the tearing of fabric. In front of him, the air warped and twisted into a swirling vortex of energy. The sudden light cast erratic shadows on the ground as the vortex stabilized, humming with contained power. Then, with a ripple of motion and a sound like thunder held in a bottle, Flugel stepped forth.

His eyes locked onto Subaru's with piercing intensity. That familiar expression—a smirk balanced perfectly between amusement and gravity—tugged at the corners of his mouth. His presence was both unsettling and reassuring in a strange, paradoxical way. As he extended a hand to the side in a calm gesture, his voice cut through the night like a finely honed blade.

"We could find an inn," he said smoothly, "but it's unnecessary. Your task here is complete. It's time to move forward. If you initiate Yang Travel now, you should reach Roswaal's mansion in three to four hours. Lingering any longer risks unraveling the timeline you've managed to preserve."

Subaru felt his throat tighten. The words were logical, precise—like everything Flugel said—but that didn't make them any easier to follow. The fatigue weighing down his limbs wasn't just physical; it was mental, emotional, spiritual. Every step he'd taken over the last few days had left a mark, and the ache in his chest hadn't yet begun to fade.

Running a hand through his messy hair, Subaru sighed. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake off the haze clouding his thoughts. When he opened them again, the stars above seemed to burn brighter, as if watching him.

"Alright," he said at last, his voice tinged with reluctant resolve. "Burning a little extra mana won't kill me. If anything, the ride might help me sort through the mess in my head."

He squared his stance, planting his feet firmly on the ground. Closing his eyes again, this time with deeper intention, he reached inward. Like tuning an instrument, he adjusted his focus, listening for the familiar thrum of mana coursing through his body. It flowed through him like a river of light—up from the soles of his feet, down to the tips of his fingers, coiling into the depths of his core. Each breath he drew in clarified the energy further, refining it into something sharp, deliberate.

[Yang Travel - Active]

The instant the spell took hold, a luminous spiral of golden-yellow energy erupted from within him, curling around his form like a living flame. The air distorted with the force of it, shimmering in waves of light and pressure. It wasn't just a sensation of movement—no, it felt like his very essence was being propelled forward, like he was stepping beyond the boundary of the world he knew and into something more abstract.

As the stones beneath his feet blurred and faded from view, Subaru's body surged ahead along a thread of magic only he could see, the wind screaming past his ears.

"GO!"

The word left his lips not as a statement, but as a declaration. It reverberated through the night, slicing through the silence with unyielding intent. In that moment, he became motion—pure and undiluted.

In the wake of his departure, only rustling leaves, unsettled dust, and the lingering echo of his voice remained. And soon, even those were swallowed by the gentle hush of the sleeping city, as if none of it had ever happened at all.