When Subaru opened his eyes, he found himself once again standing before the grand gates of the Karsten mansion... again. It was like the beginning of a nightmare he could never fully wake from. The air felt heavier than usual, thick with memory and despair. His eyelids drooped under a burden far greater than exhaustion—like he was carrying the collective weight of all the timelines he had failed in. His body ached with phantom wounds, and his soul groaned under invisible chains.
He inhaled deeply, letting the familiar aroma of roses fill his lungs, but even that soothing scent no longer brought him peace. The fragrance, once comforting and warm, now struck him as hollow—a perfumed lie hanging in the air, a memory of tranquility forever out of reach. It mocked him. The roses had seen too much blood to be innocent anymore.
His eyes, bloodshot and weary, narrowed with grim resolve. He furrowed his brow, pushing aside the crushing fatigue that threatened to drag him down. "Not much time left," he muttered under his breath, his voice cracked and raw from countless screams in lifetimes past. "Let's wrap this up. Every second matters now."
Without warning, visions flooded his mind like a tidal wave. A cavalcade of corpses. Burned flesh sizzling in the wind. Screams of agony that echoed endlessly. Twisted bodies, contorted in death, and vacant eyes that stared into nothing. His stomach churned violently, bile rising in his throat. He bit down hard to suppress the urge, but the memories overwhelmed him. His legs gave out. He fell, knees slamming into the ground. His face met the dirt with a dull thud. The cold earth pressed against his skin like a balm, momentarily numbing the firestorm inside his chest.
"This time... I'll be faster," he whispered to the soil. "I don't need a plan. I just need to move."
Flugel was gone. No voice echoed in his head. No sly remarks. No cryptic riddles. No presence lingering in the corners of his thoughts. Even the familiar sense of being watched had faded. Subaru was truly alone this time. But he didn't falter. He couldn't afford to. Every distraction had been burned away, leaving only sharpened focus. His senses tuned themselves to the moment ahead, every heartbeat like a countdown.
[Yang Travel - Active]
"I won't let them die again..."
The words weren't just a thought—they were a vow etched into his soul. A silent scream turned to steel. A prayer twisted into a blade. No one else would fall. Not this time. Not again. The fire in his heart flared brighter, stoked by the ashes of all he had lost. In his eyes burned a flame no longer tempered by fear or sadness—only raw, ancestral fury born of desperation. That fury was his lifeline.
He moved. No, he vanished. He became velocity incarnate. Every step was a blur, every motion guided by instinct. He tore through the forest like a specter, a fleeting shadow slicing between trees. His feet barely touched the ground, his body lighter than air yet fueled by the weight of unrelenting resolve.
But the speed was punishing. The Yang Travel ability demanded more mana than he had ever channeled before. His skin prickled with searing pain. His blood boiled, racing through him like magma. Every breath came sharp and ragged. Cold wind tore at his face, but it couldn't extinguish the inferno burning inside. His heartbeat roared like thunder in his ears.
And then—he arrived. The battlefield from before, frozen in eerie silence. The place where he had clashed with Lucas. Time had passed, but the scars remained: deep footprints embedded in the soil, broken branches that hung like fractured bones, and bloodstains now turned a dull rust-brown, crusted and dried. Subaru slowed, taking it all in with calculated precision. He crouched, ears straining.
Lucas would be here. He had to be. Every second was aligning exactly like before. The rhythm of fate felt the same.
Then—movement.
Lucas emerged from the shadows between the trees, a wraith cloaked in silence. His steps made no sound. His expression was cold, cruel, unreadable. Without uttering a single word, he lunged forward, foot arcing through the air in a vicious kick aimed straight at Subaru's skull.
But Subaru had seen this move before. Had felt the impact. Had tasted his own blood after being struck. This memory was burned into him like a brand. He didn't flinch.
Yang Travel still coursed through him. Subaru pivoted sharply and struck back with a kick of his own.
CRACK!
The sound of bone fracturing echoed like a gunshot through the woods.
But it wasn't Subaru's bone.
It was Lucas's.
"NGH—!" Lucas's body twisted midair before slamming into the ground with devastating force. A small crater erupted where he landed, the earth trembling from the sheer impact. Dust surged upward like smoke from a bomb, obscuring the view.
Subaru landed a second later, descending through the haze like a specter of vengeance. His silhouette cut through the mist like the blade of judgment itself.
Lucas glared up from the dirt, blood staining his lips. He coughed, wheezing. "Cough—Cough... Envy... came back for a rematch—" he spat, voice quaking, not with rage—but with fear.
Subaru didn't wait for Lucas to finish his sentence. In a fluid, practiced motion, he summoned Duskveil—his dagger humming with latent mana—and slashed through the air. The blade's edge cut through the tension like thunder, and although Lucas twisted his body at the last second to avoid a full-on strike, he couldn't evade it completely. His left arm flew off, severed cleanly at the shoulder. Blood fountained from the wound, spilling in arcs before soaking into the dirt below.
"AAAAAARRRRGGGGGGGHHH!! HOW DARE YOU?! MY... MY ARM!"
Lucas's scream was equal parts agony and disbelief. His eyes bulged, veins bulging on his neck, his face twisted in a grotesque snarl. Gritting his teeth, he extended his remaining arm and summoned Excalibur. A sudden flash erupted in the heavens above, splitting the clouds. The sacred sword descended into his grip in a blaze of celestial light, illuminating the battlefield like a vengeful star.
"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS A THOUSAND TIMES OVER!"
But Subaru didn't flinch. He smiled.
It wasn't a smile born of confidence or triumph. It was hollow, eerie—a thin-lipped curve laced with madness. His eyes gleamed with something far too sharp to be sanity. The fragments of his mind, like a shattered mirror, reflected rage, memory, and something darker.
Had he the time, he would've tortured Lucas for every moment of pain he had endured. He would've carved justice into his skin, made him feel every echo of suffering. But that wasn't what this was about. There was no room for sentiment.
This wasn't vengeance.
This was purification. Erasure.
A purge.
Duskveil trembled in his grip. It pulsed with a violent rhythm, as if eager—desperate—for a second awakening. The dagger, sentient in its hunger, seemed to plead.
"No... Not now," Subaru whispered to it, his voice barely audible. "Your strength is needed for something else. I'm not losing myself again. Not yet."
He vanished.
To Lucas, it was as if the world blinked. One moment Subaru was in front of him—wounded, trembling—the next, gone without a trace.
Then came the whisper of air behind him.
Subaru reappeared like a shade, silent and lethal, and brought Duskveil down in an arc filled with Destruction.
Slash!
Lucas never got to activate his Authority. His head flew from his shoulders, eyes still wide in disbelief. No blood sprayed—only a single droplet clung to the blade's edge—before gravity took the rest. It was as though even death had tired of Lucas. His body slumped to its knees, then toppled sideways, heavy and lifeless. Mana hissed into the air, escaping like steam from a fractured shell. The once radiant figure dimmed rapidly, Excalibur slipping from his hand and clattering onto the blood-soaked ground.
Subaru stared at his trembling fingers, his palm slick with blood. "This is... strange," he whispered. "I wasn't this strong before."
And yet he felt nothing. No surge of victory. No rush of accomplishment. Only silence.
Just another step. One more weight behind him on a road paved with corpses and regrets.
A soft, ominous glow began to rise from Lucas's remains. Crimson, pulsing, alive. It flickered like a dying fire but exuded a suffocating presence. Subaru didn't need to guess—he recognized it instantly.
The Authority of Pride.
It rose, weightless but heavy in presence, and drifted toward him. Its light extended like invisible tendrils, and one of them anchored itself into his soul. The world seemed to hold its breath. All mana in the area was pulled inward, devoured by the red glow.
Subaru didn't resist. He didn't scream or struggle. The sensation was familiar now—unwelcome, but expected. His body remained still as the Authority wrapped itself around his spirit like a cold chain. He simply closed his eyes, exhaled once, and knelt.
He picked up Excalibur in silence and tucked it into his inventory.
"Alright. Time to g—"
He didn't finish.
Pain exploded in his chest—not sharp, but dull and suffocating. His limbs gave way. His legs buckled. He crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.
His breath came in short gasps. Panic flickered across his face.
"What's... happening...?"
His voice was weak, trailing. Even that act took everything from him. His arms felt like lead. His thoughts slowed, drowning in molasses.
Darkness crept into the edges of his vision. His hearing dulled. The scent of blood faded.
And then— He fell. Face-first into the dirt. Cold. Heavy. Still.
He awoke. But not in the world he'd fallen in.
Subaru opened his eyes to find himself in the Dream Castle—Echidna's domain. Familiar walls. Familiar horizon. Yet it was different.
The gentle twilight glow that usually blanketed this world was gone. The warmth—gone. The air was frigid, stale. It prickled against his skin like ice needles. The silence wasn't peace.
It was absence.
No table. No teacups. No books. No Echidna. Nothing.
Only a vast, endless void stretching around him. Subaru stood, wavering slightly, and turned.
That's when he saw it. Something—or someone—was waiting.
A small figure sat quietly in a chair, legs dangling above the ground, eyes locked intently on Subaru. Her appearance was that of a child—soft features, round cheeks, glowing crimson eyes, and hair as green as spring grass. Yet there was something older beneath the surface. Her curious smile trembled slightly at the corners, revealing a fragility that didn't quite match the playfulness of her demeanor.
The Witch of Pride—Typhon.
Subaru approached with deliberate caution. Each step echoed through the dreamlike void around them, as if the world itself was listening. His heart pounded, quick and erratic, but his face remained composed, trained by countless battles against fate. Without saying a word, he sat across from her. He held her gaze, unwavering, almost defiant, as though daring her to blink first.
"Why am I here?" he asked finally, his voice even.
Typhon tilted her head. For a moment, she seemed overwhelmed by an excitement too large for her tiny frame. Her cheeks puffed out, lips trembling with a smile that teetered between joy and something deeper—sorrow, perhaps. Her eyes sparkled, reflecting both the innocence of a playful child and the ominous gravity of an ancient being capable of judgment.
"You took my Authority! That's super rude, you know! So I thought, 'Hey! I should bring you here and ask why!' But also... it's not just that, nope nope nope. Hmmmm... Youuuuu're... Baru, right? Baru! Baru! Baru with the gloomy face and the heavy heart! Hehe! That's you, isn't it!?"
Her voice rose in playful singsong, but Subaru flinched slightly. That name, said that way, always struck him like a shard of glass. It wasn't just the sound—it was the familiarity, the way she invaded the private, fragile shell he tried to maintain.
"Yeah," he said, steadying his breath. "That's me."
Typhon suddenly sprang from her chair. Her feet padded across the empty space between them with childlike urgency until she stood right in front of him. Her face was inches away now, her red eyes wide, her voice rising to a pitch only a child could sustain.
"Baru! Are you a bad person!? I've been thinking about it so much! You killed the last one, the last Authority bearer—twice, even! That seems like something a really bad person would do! Doesn't it!?"
Subaru let out a long, weary sigh. His eyes drifted to the ground, shadowed by a guilt that clung to him like a second skin. The weight of his decisions, the echoes of screams and the sting of loss—they never left him. But when he lifted his eyes again, they were clear.
"I don't think I'm a bad person... But Lucas? He was."
Typhon blinked at him. Then, without warning, she extended her hand. Palm up, fingers open. She stood perfectly still, gaze focused on his hand with an intensity that didn't suit her age. Her expression had turned serious—earnest. She was waiting. Expecting.
Subaru felt time slow. He knew this moment. He knew what it meant to take her hand. Pain. Terrible, inevitable pain. His mind conjured memories of a torn arm, of agony laced with judgment. But still, he didn't recoil. With trembling fingers, he reached out and placed his hand atop hers.
Typhon closed her eyes. "A sin... can only be atoned for through pain."
The world fell still. The air froze. Subaru braced himself for the punishment he was sure would come. But it didn't. No pain. No tearing flesh. No severed arm. Just silence—and warmth. His arm remained whole. His breath hitched, and his eyes widened in confusion.
Typhon opened her eyes again, and this time her smile was gentler, tinged with relief.
"Oh! It doesn't hurt? Then you're not a bad person! Yay! You did great! The last Archbishop—he screamed and screamed! His arm cracked off like a twig! hehe~"
Subaru gave a small nod, still stunned. But Typhon's mood shifted again. Her smile faded, and a more somber expression overtook her features. She spoke again, her tone now low and weighted with something older.
"Sin... becomes a wall that won't let you run away."
And then the pain came—not sudden, not tearing, but insidious. Subaru's body felt like it was fracturing from the inside. Invisible cracks crawled beneath his skin. His lungs burned. His legs buckled slightly. But he didn't cry out. He endured. He always did. Because maybe... maybe this was just.
Typhon took a step back. Her expression softened into something mournful. Her red eyes studied him, not as a judge, but as someone trying to understand something she could never quite grasp.
"You're not a sinner... and yet you carry yourself like one. Do you believe you are? Even after all you've done to change things?"
She paused. A long, quiet breath left her lips. Then came a smile—not childish, not mocking, but ancient and worn. A smile shaped by solitude.
"That's... really sad. But it also means something else. It means your heart is kind. Truly kind."
Her eyes shimmered faintly. Then the silence returned, swallowing the air around them. The dreamspace deepened like a slow descent into water. And in that depth, Subaru found himself alone once more—with nothing but the echo of his sins and the weight of his own self-forgiveness, waiting to be earned.
Subaru, despite the unbearable searing pain wracking every nerve in his body, forced himself upright onto his knees. His muscles trembled violently, as if screaming in protest against the movement. A scalding wave of heat surged violently from the pit of his stomach to his throat, burning with such intensity that it felt as though molten iron coursed through his veins. It was as if his very organs were being scorched from the inside out. Yet, even in the face of that agonizing torment, his determination remained unshaken, unyielding. Gritting his teeth hard enough to nearly shatter them, he summoned the strength to speak. Though his voice was cracked, hoarse, and barely more than a whisper, it carried a clear note of unwavering resolve:
"Did I pass your test?"
Typhon, up until now skipping about with an almost carefree air, froze abruptly. Her demeanor shifted in an instant—she was still, her eyes wide with surprise. Subaru wasn't supposed to know it had been a test. That detail had somehow slipped her mind, and it showed on her tiny face, which now drooped with exaggerated disappointment. Her little shoulders slumped as she let out a dramatic, drawn-out sigh.
"Ahhh! You weren't supposed to realize it was a test! That totally ruins the fun! I guess that means I lost little bet... How careless of me. Tehe~"
Subaru's eyebrow twitched slightly at her reaction, but instead of irritation or frustration, his face remained oddly blank. It was as if even the energy to feel surprise had long since deserted him, replaced by an empty calm born from exhaustion and endurance.
"Then... does that mean I can leave now?"
Typhon tilted her head, her gaze falling on him in a way that was far too serious for someone of her childish appearance. Then, with a slow turn, she glanced back over her shoulder. Her oversized eyes met his—gleaming not with mischief this time, but with something stranger, something impossible to name. An emotion that hovered between reverence and expectation.
"Of course you can go... but only after I bestow upon you your Authority."
Her words, light and whimsical, carried an unexpected weight. Each of her steps toward him was soft, almost playful in nature. But the air grew heavier with each one, as though reality itself began to ripple and distort around her presence. A subtle pressure settled in the space between them, bending the air, making Subaru's breath catch in his throat.
When Typhon finally reached him, she stood still for a moment, then gently placed her small hand over his heart. Her fingers were delicate, almost translucent, but the sensation was anything but soft. It was as if the entire world had condensed into that single point of contact.
"Your sin will now become a wound that never heals. A brand. A seal upon your very soul."
The words weren't a curse, nor a blessing—they were a verdict.
In that instant, the hairline cracks marring Subaru's body shimmered like broken glass catching moonlight... and then vanished. Gone, erased as if they'd never existed. But in their place, something new emerged—something far more permanent, far more visible. Runes. Ancient, ethereal symbols etched into his flesh, starting from the center of his chest and spiraling up to wrap around his left shoulder. They glowed with a faint, eerie blue, pulsing in sync with his heartbeat.
Subaru's breath hitched. His hand moved instinctively to the runes, fingertips brushing against the cool, alien markings. They were cold—unnaturally so. The sensation wasn't painful, but it sent a chill down his spine. And yet... beneath the foreignness, there was something unsettlingly familiar about them. A weight settled on his heart—not a burden, but a pressure that steadied him. It was grounding. Empowering.
"What... is this?" he asked, voice trembling.
Typhon's expression lit up like a lantern. Joy, genuine and innocent, spread across her face. She looked like a child who had just unwrapped her favorite present.
"This is the Authority of Pride! A special gift, just for you. No one else has ever received this from me—you're the very first! I think... I think this might be exactly what you need to protect those precious to you."
Subaru's eyes fell to the ground, his breath steadying. A small, weary smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He didn't fully understand what had just been given to him, but he could feel it—power. Real, tangible power. And that was something he had been searching for, yearning for, again and again across countless deaths and failures.
"So what exactly does it do?"
Typhon giggled, her usual playful self returning, and gave a carefree shrug.
"I don't know! That's the fun part. Authorities change depending on the heart of the one who holds them. Sometimes they heal... sometimes they destroy. Each heart gives a different answer. Yours will be... interesting."
Subaru looked at his hands—trembling still, but now not from pain or weakness. From anticipation.
The Authority had awakened. What came next... was up to him.
Subaru's expression darkened as his fingers slowly traced the glowing runes etched into his skin. Each symbol pulsed faintly beneath his touch, as though alive—breathing, waiting. It felt like he was wrapped in something foreign, like he was wearing a skin that wasn't his own. There was a disconnect, a haunting sense that whatever he had become... it was no longer just Subaru.
"Meh... I'll figure it out somehow. One way or another, I'll learn how this works," he murmured under his breath, voice half-hearted but steady. "Alright, Typhon... really, thank you."
He meant it. Somewhere beyond the chaos and uncertainty, he was truly grateful. But even his gratitude was heavy, burdened by a feeling he couldn't quite place.
Typhon, hovering just a few paces away in that odd, dreamlike space, suddenly paused. Her fingers drifted to her lips as she fell into deep thought. Her eyes lost focus, and for a brief moment, the ever-cheerful, childlike energy that defined her vanished. The shadows around her seemed to grow thicker.
Then she spoke—voice low, tremulous, like a memory echoing across time.
"I finally remembered the thing I was supposed to tell you before you left."
Subaru's eyes lifted instantly. Something inside him tensed. Her words, though soft, hit like a warning bell reverberating through his core. Danger? Dread? Or was it simply that instinct that came before something important was revealed?
Typhon's crimson gaze locked with his.
"Don't let the Authority consume you," she said, each word deliberate. "No matter what happens... don't try to become one with it. Merging with it might feel powerful at first—but it could mean surrendering your will. And that... that could turn you into its slave."
Her voice fractured on the last sentence, trailing into silence. Subaru felt the weight of her words land squarely on his chest. The implications were clear. This wasn't just power—it was a prison disguised as salvation.
But just as suddenly, the moment dissolved. Typhon's expression snapped back to its usual bright innocence, her lips curling into a playful grin as she waved energetically.
"That's it! Bye-bye, Baru!"
Subaru opened his mouth, trying to respond—maybe to thank her again, maybe to question further. But the dream shattered before he had the chance. The world beneath his feet crumbled like paper.
And then—
The real world.
Only a handful of minutes had passed in reality, but what Subaru had experienced felt far longer. Timeless. Deep. He gasped quietly as his senses returned. The air felt thick, almost charged, and his limbs carried a phantom weight—as if the memory of that otherworldly space had followed him.
He blinked slowly. The runes were still there, glowing faintly on his skin. The sensation hadn't faded. If anything, it had intensified.
He sat up straighter, focusing.
"Alright... I need to test the Authority of Pride."
Almost on command, a shimmering, translucent screen materialized in front of him. Familiar. Mechanical. Inevitable.
Ding!!
[The Authority of "Pride," one of the 7 Deadly Sins, has been acquired!]
→ Authority of Pride: "Fractured Limit"
Effect: When Subaru is pushed to the very edge of survival—when his instincts scream and his back is against the wall—the Authority of Pride activates. It forcibly breaks through his physical and mental limits, allowing feats otherwise impossible. He can move when his body should fail. He can fight when hope should vanish.
But it comes at a cost: to use this strength, he must suppress his very soul.
Limitations:
-Overuse may cause irreversible damage to both body and mind.
-Emotional volatility may increase under the influence of the Authority.
-Risk of identity destabilization if boundaries between user and Authority blur.
Subaru stared at the text, reading and rereading. Each sentence rang in his ears. His heart pounded—not with fear, but with a twisted sense of expectation. Of temptation.
"Actually... this might be really useful," he muttered. "But it's the kind of thing I can only rely on as a last resort."
His eyes drifted down again to the runes inscribed upon him. They weren't just symbols. They were a brand. A contract. Proof that he had changed—that he had crossed a threshold.
They didn't feel like a gift.
They felt like a scar.
And yet... he accepted them.
If this was the price of standing between his loved ones and ruin, then so be it. If he had to bear the weight of power in order to shield others from harm, he would carry it until his knees gave out.
He inhaled deeply. The breath burned slightly, as though fire had taken root in his lungs. But it also gave him clarity.
This was his burden now.
A silent vow echoed in his heart. A promise made not to any god or witch or authority—but to himself.
Whatever came next, he wouldn't run.
Not this time. Not ever again.