Rem could not understand it. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in her beloved sister's arms. She had died—she was absolutely certain of it.
How was it possible that she was still alive? Not only that, but her body no longer had a hole in its chest, her heart was still beating, and her mind was functioning perfectly normally. Even her uniform was intact, and her weapon, the Morningstar, was in perfect condition.
If they had somehow saved her with healing magic, where was the person who did it? Where were Ram and Leandro? Why did she find herself in this sky-less city?
All these questions swirled within Rem's thoughts as she began to cautiously explore the area. To her surprise, there was no one there. The buildings were empty, the stalls unoccupied; overall, the city gave the impression of having been completely abandoned.
After a few minutes, Rem conjectured that she might be in some kind of limbo, where everything she experienced was merely an illusion within her mind. That would explain the fact that she was entirely alone.
However, that theory lost a great deal of weight with the unexpected appearance of a massive figure high above the city. Soon, the shriek of the Mabeast reached Rem's ears, making her skin crawl.
"The White Whale?!"
It was absurd—almost as absurd as the fact that Rem was here in the first place. That Mabeast had been defeated, with Rem herself present. It shouldn't be possible for the whale to return from the dead…
But that same logic applied to her as well. Surely someone had used necromantic magic. The real problem arose when trying to determine the culprit's intentions: they had brought back Rem… and the White Whale.
What were they planning?
Rem realized she wouldn't find any information by standing still, so she began to pursue the whale, activating her horn to employ her full physical capabilities.
However, as she ran after the massive monster, her peripheral vision detected a humanoid figure moving between the buildings.
It wore the uniform of the Witch Cult.
"YOU PEOPLE AGAIN?!"
Rem abruptly changed direction and shifted her full attention to the cultist. When she closed the distance enough and believed she had him in her sights, she threw her Morningstar toward the cultist's legs. She didn't want to kill him immediately, but rather disable him so she could interrogate him first.
Nevertheless, the spiked sphere was deflected when the cultist spun around and struck it with his staff.
The maid grunted in annoyance as she readjusted the chain and prepared to launch another attack.
"If the cult is behind this, then surely…"
There was a high probability that Leandro was nearby. Given his knowledge, he wouldn't be able to ignore an event of this magnitude. Rem was utterly convinced of it.
That thought filled her with motivation and her attacks became ferocious, but even when she gave it her all, the cultist managed to maintain his distance while eluding every attempt Rem made to trap him.
After several minutes of pursuit, Rem and the cultist reached a plaza; more precisely, the cultist slipped away while knocking over several objects and throwing them toward the maid to hinder her.
Rem didn't even slow down, limiting herself to breaking through the obstacles or smashing them to pieces with her Morningstar. However, the final object was a sack filled with cinnamon, so when Rem tore it open, a cloud formed that obstructed her vision and caused her to trip.
Although she tumbled heavily across the ground, Rem ignored the pain as she pushed herself up.
She had an objective, and she was determined to fulfill it.
The chains rattled against the ground as Rem advanced with resolve. In the center of the plaza, her prey had stopped, acting as if escaping no longer mattered.
"Witch Cultist… your time has come!"
There was no verbal response from the enemy. Silently, the cultist extended his bony hand and pointed at something behind Rem.
At the exact same time, the maid heard a chilling whisper at her back.
"It looks like we'll be eating a double portion today."
Startled, Rem spun around and threw her Morningstar toward the sinister presence that had been on the verge of ambushing her.
It was a small, ragged girl with a golden mane of hair and sky-blue eyes that contrasted sharply with the rest of her appearance: she looked like a princess raised by vagrants.
"Who are you?"
"We are the Archbishop of Gluttony, Rui Arneb!" the girl answered in a cheerful tone.
"Huh?"
Despite being so young, the girl was already a part of those madmen, occupying such an important position… Rem felt nauseous upon seeing just how indiscriminate the corruption of the cult truly was.
She absolutely could not allow that organization to continue existing.
"We have already introduced ourselves!" Rui exclaimed anxiously. "What is your name, miss?!"
"My name—"
Rem was on the verge of saying it, but then she remembered what Leandro had told her.
"Gluttony" had devoured her name and memories, leaving her in a comatose state that had been highly difficult to reverse, and even when she woke up, she had lost her identity and the world did not remember her.
"What's wrong, miss? Won't you tell us what your name is?" Rui licked her lips.
"Is that how your power works?" Rem narrowed her eyes. "Do you need to know my name to 'devour' me?"
"Oh! So you know! That's a bit disappointing, to be perfectly honest!" Rui finished her sentence by lunging at Rem, attempting to slit her throat with a pair of daggers.
The maid stepped back just in time to avoid the blades thrusting toward her and kicked the girl, managing to push her back a short distance.
Killing a child was not something to be taken lightly.
But that child was an Archbishop of the cult.
Rem gritted her teeth.
"I'll have to do it anyway."
Then, the real fight began.
Rem and Rui rushed toward each other with their weapons ready. Sparks flew as daggers and chains violently clashed.
The spiked sphere of the Morningstar moved as if it had a life of its own, attacking Rui from every possible angle. Rui tried to penetrate Rem's defense, but her knives were incapable of cutting through the chains that spun around Rem like a sort of protective barrier.
At least until she decided to use magic.
A blade of wind struck Rem's body, carving a deep gash across her abdomen. The pain of the wound was so intense that the Oni contorted and lowered her guard.
"Got you!" Rui smiled as she seized the opening to close the distance between them.
Rem cast a Huma spell to buy time, but Rui destroyed the icicles with ease and thrust her daggers directly toward the maid's neck.
"Eh?"
To Rui's utter bewilderment, the space in front of her tore open just as she was delivering the finishing blow. Her body's momentum meant she couldn't stop herself, and she was sucked into the distortion.
Rem herself observed the phenomenon in shock.
"What…?"
As the spatial rift snapped shut, Rui's high-pitched voice let out a shriek of terror that died out into a fading echo.
Confused, Rem looked around, trying to find her savior.
Then, a figure descended upon the plaza, positioning himself in front of Rem.
He looked different compared to the last memory she had of him. His gaze was sadder, his eyes duller, and his hair longer.
It looked as though Leandro had been through a great deal.
Looking at him, Rem felt an overwhelming urge to cry—not out of sadness, but out of pure joy. Her feet moved on their own, starting a sprint of just a few meters that felt like lightyears.
Finally, she managed to reach him and caught him in a tight embrace, burying her head against his chest. She was so happy that she couldn't speak, only laugh and sob.
After all, not even death could separate them. That was how strong their bond was.
It was curious for Rem to think that with such fervor. It was even more curious considering that he did not return the embrace.
After the initial rush of emotion, the group began to speak more calmly.
Marcos respectfully greeted Fourier.
"It will be an honor to escort you back to the Royal Capital, Your Highness, but I fear that managing the public's reaction to the news of your return might be even more challenging than this rescue mission has been."
Fourier nodded with solemnity.
"It's fine, we will cross that bridge when we get to it. In any case, I do not plan to reclaim my former position as a member of royalty. Instead, I will support Crusch in her campaign."
"Your Highness?!" Felix placed a hand over his mouth, which was wide open in surprise. "Are you serious?!"
"Completely serious," the prince affirmed, without a shred of doubt in his expression.
Marcos let out a heavy sigh and muttered with regret.
"That will be even more difficult to swallow…"
"Hey, where is Leandro?" Crusch pointed out something that nearly everyone else had ignored: the absence of the black-haired youth, who only moments prior had been standing right there with them.
Marcos looked at Nadir, but the blacksmith averted his gaze and whistled, so the captain of the knights drew his own conclusions.
"He must have gone to look for his other companions," he said, furrowing his brow. "The strange thing is that he left without saying a word. Do you know something?"
The question was directed at Ram, who blinked and opened her mouth to respond, but at that exact moment, she was ambushed by a familiar sensation she hadn't felt in months.
Synesthesia.
Ram was left completely speechless. They say nature is wise, so it couldn't have been a mistake on her body's part. For some reason, the connection she shared with her sister had returned to transmit a profound sense of danger.
What danger could someone who already lost their life possibly be in? Unless that person was alive and conscious, it made no sense. Nor did it make any sense for the dead to return to life.
But if Prince Fourier was standing right there…
"REM!"
Everyone looked at the pink-haired maid as she screamed her sister's name, moving to search for her, only to collapse to the ground due to sheer physical exhaustion.
"Shit…!"
"Ram? What's wrong?" Crusch rushed over to assist her, and Felix followed, kneeling in front of Ram and immediately beginning to use his healing magic on her.
"Rem… my sister is alive!" she declared in bewilderment. Her heart hammered with uncertainty, not knowing whether to feel happiness or overwhelming worry.
"Don't tell me… did they resurrect her too?" The duchess's face contorted with suspicion. "Who on earth is behind all of this? What is their objective?"
With everything he had seen and heard, Marcos was almost entirely certain that this was connected to the Witch Cult… or to a certain black-haired youth.
"We should ask Leandro," he suggested pointedly.
"What are you implying?" Nadir looked at him.
"He brought us here. If anyone knows anything, it's him."
"Or her," Nadir pointed at Seraphina. "She was a big shot in this place."
Everyone turned toward the woman, who swallowed hard with nervousness as she suddenly became the center of attention.
"Who is she?" Crusch asked.
"One of the three heads of the city," Nadir explained. "Leandro turned her into his slave; that's why she's here."
"Are you joking?" Although Crusch already knew it was the truth thanks to her Divine Protection, she still wanted to doubt the sheer absurdity of what she had just heard.
"Nope," the blacksmith seemed amused by the duchess's reaction.
An uncomfortable silence followed.
"Do you know if there was a necromancer around here?" Marcos interrogated Seraphina.
"No!" she hastened to deny it. "There is next to no information regarding that type of magic. To my knowledge, I have never dealt with anyone who possessed such a power."
"She told the truth," this time, Crusch spoke up ahead of the inquisitive glances that would have sought her confirmation.
"Do you have anything useful to contribute, at the very least?" The captain of the knights used a tone that hovered between threatening and dismissive, putting pressure on the woman.
"I-I don't know anything about a necromancer, but there were some members of the cult in the city today."
"What? How do you know that?"
"We have some miasma sensors that we recently developed. It's cutting-edge technology," Seraphina would have smiled with pride, but her current situation was far too grim to allow it. "Cult members carry miasma, so they are easy to detect."
Crusch nodded quickly, and Marcos rested easy with the verification of his hypothesis.
"Don't those guys ever get tired of causing trouble?" Felix clicked his tongue.
"I bet there are still a few roaming around," Nadir said.
"If you say so, it must be true. You know them well." Marcos was not at all subtle with his insinuation.
While the conversation turned sharp, Felix finished healing Ram, and she stood up.
"Do you want us to help you look for Rem?" Crusch offered.
"Yes, I beg of you."
"No need. Come, we must not waste time."
The group began to move, but then…
"Ugh, damn it! Stay still!"
A man appeared in front of them. He had long red hair, blue eyes—with a black patch over one of them—and a red kimono that covered one side of his body, among other minor details.
"My body is moving on its own; it's a fucking nuisance," he muttered. "Why the hell am I even here in the first place?"
"Who are you? You had better answer quickly, or we will be forced to act accordingly!" Crusch threatened.
"I'm just a guy who swings a stick… eh?"
Ceasing his rambling, the man fixed his gaze upon her and smiled lewdly.
"Not bad… that's a solid 8."
Next, his eyes shifted toward Seraphina.
"Oh, a mature one. Definitely a 9."
The next was Ram.
"Meh."
Finally, his eyes stopped on Felix.
"…What the fuck, is that a guy dressed as a woman?" He grimaced. "Anyway, 10."
"Enough nonsense!" Crusch exclaimed, brandishing her sword and unleashing a slash.
"El Fura!" Ram joined her, wearing a furious expression for some reason.
The coordinated attacks impacted the redhead's body and kicked up a significant amount of dust, but moments later, it became clear that neither the slash nor the gust of wind had harmed the man in the slightest.
However, even though there was no visible wound on his body, the man was trembling violently.
"Are you still trying to control me, you bastard?" he growled in annoyance, though it was difficult to determine exactly who he was talking to. "I am the goddamn owner of this body! Stop messing around!"
"What is he talking about?" Nadir murmured.
For their part, Fourier and the refined-looking knight were staring at the newcomer with horrified expressions, as if they were looking at a living nightmare.
"No… it can't be," the refined knight murmured.
"That phrase… and that appearance…"
Fourier also seemed to have noticed something.
"Your Highness?" Crusch noticed his unease and looked at him. "Do you know that man?"
"If he is who I think he is… we could be in serious trouble."
As if those words were a dark omen, the strange red-haired man disappeared—or rather, he moved so fast that no one could follow him with their eyes.
Spurt!
Blood splattered across the ground and onto the faces of everyone present. There was a metallic clatter as the body of Marcos Gildark collapsed and his armor collided with the floor.
The captain of the knights had lost his head—literally.
And the weapon used to achieve such a feat was… a pair of chopsticks.