The smoke from the conflict still lay low over the streets of Guaral.
Inside the central office of the city hall, the atmosphere was no less suffocating.
"Don't look so down. That dragon-girl was a real pain in the neck, in fact," Beatrice said, glancing at Emilia. "Betty could barely keep her magic locked onto her, I suppose. It was all we could do to force her retreat."
"At least we secured the city," Otto said, rubbing his temples. The deep purple bruises under his eyes made it look as if he hadn't slept in a week. "But the cost... and the sheer chaos of this Empire. We don't have time to celebrate. We still don't know where Natsuki-san is."
When Subaru's name was spoken, it was as if the temperature in the room dropped.
Emilia reclined against the wall, her gaze wandering to the window. Her chest was tense.
"First Subaru and Gojo-san vanish... and now..." She trailed off, biting her lower lip.
Satoru Gojo. The man who had once been an impenetrable wall, who had given her the confidence to speak her own thoughts and grow as a person. It was a hard pill to swallow when she heard that he had lost all his memories of everyone.
"He... he really doesn't remember any of us, does he?" Petra asked quietly, holding the hem of her dress. Her voice was little, but her eyes were big and held a deep, lasting sadness.
"It is unfortunate, I suppose." Beatrice sighed, crossing her arms defensively.
"Gojo-sama..." Petra's knuckles turned white as she squeezed her skirt. "Back in Arlam village... when that horrible white-haired man from the Witch Cult tried to hurt us... Gojo-sama stepped up for me. He didn't really know who I was, but he risked everything to save my life. He's always been one of our heroes. I... I want to help him. I want him to remember us."
"The blindfold bastard is tough," Garfiel grunted, crossing his arms so hard his muscles bulged. "Even without his head on straight, nobody's flat-out killin' him. He's a monster, like that damn redhead."
Garfiel's eyes narrowed as he remembered the two of them and how he had been completely unable to touch them in combat.
"But the Cap'n... the Cap'n... isn't like that... He's a beast; there's no sayin' no to that, but he ain't unbreakable like those guys..."
Garfiel slammed his fist onto the table, cracking the wood.
"Where is the Cap'n?! We've been runnin' ourselves ragged through these damn woods, and he's still nowhere to be found! If those Empire bastards did somethin' to him, I'll tear this whole place apart brick by brick!"
"Calm down, Garfiel," Petra said, her voice stern. She stepped beside him, placing a gentle but firm hand on his forearm. "Getting angry won't help us find Subaru-sama. We need to be smart."
In the corner of the room, Rem sat quietly on a wooden bench. Her hands were folded in her lap, her blue eyes staring blankly at the floor. Her hero was missing. She had almost been forced to accompany Roswaal and her sister elsewhere in Vollachia, but she had remained adamant. If her hero was in danger, it was only right of her to help him in return.
Before they could say another word, the huge double doors of the office groaned open.
Zikr Osman entered the room. He removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm, then bowed low to the women there with his usual steady chivalry.
"My apologies for the intrusion, beautiful ladies," Zikr said, his voice grave. "And to you, brave warriors. I apologize for the somewhat late arrival; it has gotten incredibly busy since Madelyn Eschart's retreat."
Emilia leaned forward. "Zikr-san! Do you know something? About Subaru?"
Zikr hesitated, his gaze drifting over their anxious faces. He let out a heavy sigh.
"Yes, of course. Natsuki Subaru played an incredibly vital role here in Guaral recently. However, he is no longer in the vicinity. He is at Ginunhive Island as we speak."
"Ginun... hive?" Emilia tilted her head at the unfamiliar name.
"...Gladiator Island," Otto filled in, his face turning entirely pale. As a merchant who had traveled extensively, the grimmest rumors of the Vollachian Empire were well-known to him. "A prison colony surrounded by violent, unpredictable waters. They force the prisoners to fight Witchbeasts and each other for the amusement of the nobility. It's a slaughterhouse."
"What did you say, in fact?" Beatrice gasped, her eyes widening in sheer horror. "They put my contractor in a place like that?!"
"We're goin'!" Garfiel roared, already turning toward the door. "I'll carry the whole carriage on my back if I have to! We're bustin' him out right now!"
"Wait! Please, calm yourselves!" Zikr raised his hands, his voice carrying the firm authority of a seasoned general. "You cannot simply march into Ginunhive. It is heavily fortified, and more importantly, it is across the entire Empire. Even with the fastest of ground dragons, the journey would take quite a long time."
"We don't care about the days!" Emilia declared, her purple eyes flashing with a rare, stubborn anger. "Subaru is in danger! We're his friends, so we have to go!"
"You do not understand, Lady Emilia," Zikr said, his tone softening with a touch of profound respect. "I do not say this to discourage you. I say this because going to Ginunhive now would be a fool's errand. By the time you arrive at the gates of the island... the boy will already be gone."
Otto's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that, General Zikr?"
"Natsuki Subaru was not taken there as a helpless prisoner; rather, the opposite. He allowed himself to go and traveled there himself, as he plays quite an important role in the revolution. Knowing his character, he is already orchestrating something from within. He will not be there by the time you reach the shores."
"Then where...?" Rem's quiet voice cut through the room, drawing everyone's attention. She looked up, her gaze steady. "If Rem's hero leaves before we get there, where will he go?"
Zikr turned to face her, nodding respectfully. "The capital city of Lupagana, of course. But I would not recommend you head there, either."
"Screw this, and screw 'yer recommendations, too!" Garfiel gritted out, a dark scowl twisting his face.
"...I think we should at least hear the man out, Garfiel." Otto commented, placing a hand on Garfiel's shoulder to hold him back.
Garfiel widened his eyes slightly, baring his fangs. "Haa...?!"
"Otto is right," Emilia intervened, stepping between them. "I think we should at least hear Zikr-san out. He's been reaaally helpful so far, and he knows this country much better than we do."
Garfiel let out a frustrated hiss, kicking a loose splinter of wood on the floor as he crossed his arms. "Argh! ——Alright, alright, let's hear it then!"
"Thank you, Garfiel-san. I'm sure it must be difficult to show so much restraint in such tumultuous times, and in an unfamiliar nation, no less." Zikr said with a polite nod.
He walked over to the map sprawled across the table, pointing his finger down toward an area on the map.
"The capital city of Lupagana is already fully prepared and stationed for war. Approaching it now would be no different than a death sentence. Instead, I highly recommend heading to Chaosflame. You will find a man there by the guise of 'Abel.' He has set out for the Demonic City to recruit the support of the Divine General stationed there."
Zikr looked directly at Emilia.
"If you wish to find your knight, do not chase his shadow across the sea. Go to Chaosflame. Meet with Abel. That is where the threads of this entire empire are pulling together. Showing up to Lupagana as an unannounced third party will only confuse the situation, and in a war zone, confusion leads to casualties."
Emilia looked down at the map, then at Beatrice, who was quietly nodding, her tiny hand still holding onto Emilia's sleeve.
Chaosflame. The Demonic City.
If Subaru was moving to retake the Empire, he would inevitably have to meet up with the main rebel force. If they went there, they could secure a safe path to him.
Emilia smiled before looking back at the map.
"Alright. Let's go to the Demonic City."
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The expedition to the southern reaches of the Empire had been nothing short of arduous.
Vollachia's rough, sun-baked land finally gave way to a suffocating, crimson-tinted atmosphere as their carriages got closer to the south.
The route was a difficult stretch of uneven dirt and jagged rock, leaving Otto gripping his stomach in quiet anguish for most of the trip, while Garfiel spent the nights pacing around the campfires, his eyes monitoring the dark canopy for any signs of an Imperial ambush.
But as they eventually climbed the final mountain, the Demonic City of Chaosflame stretched out before them.
It was a metropolis of rich reds and pitch blacks, created in a style utterly unfamiliar to the Lugunican travelers.
"Woah..." Petra gasped, leaning out of the carriage window. "It's so big. But... look over there."
She pointed toward the center of the city, where the massive Crimson Lapis Castle stood. The very top of the spire was visibly jagged and cracked, surrounded by wooden scaffolding. Dozens of demi-human workers were hauling stone blocks with unnatural strength——a side effect of Yorna's Soul Marriagereinforcing the physical labor. The city was still recovering from the devastating Witch Cult attack, but the reconstruction was moving at a rapid pace.
"They're rebuilding incredibly fast, in fact," Beatrice observed, keeping a tight grip on Emilia's hand as they stepped down from the carriage. "The mana in the air is thick... and incredibly heavy, I suppose."
The group made their way through the bustling, scarlet-lit streets. The local citizens—mostly beastmen of various shapes and sizes—offered them wary, curious glances, but no one moved to stop them.
As they reached the plaza at the base of the castle, they found a small gathering of people overseeing the work.
Standing in the center of the square was a man wearing a dark, elegant coat and a menacing oni mask. Abel stood with his arms crossed, his posture rigid and commanding. Beside him stood Yorna Mishigure, the Mistress of the City, casually puffing on her long pipe. Hovering quietly in Yorna's shadow was Tanza, the small deer-girl, her expression stoic.
Leaning against a nearby wooden crate was a girl with braided, purple-blue hair and a vacant, somewhat eerie smile. The Emilia Camp didn't spare the blue-haired girl a second glance. To them, she was simply another local child, a stranger in a foreign city.
But she wasn't the only one there.
"Ah! New faces!"
A loud, incredibly cheerful voice cut through the noise of the construction. A tall, muscular blonde girl in a revealing native outfit stepped forward, waving her arms. It was Medium.
Standing slightly behind her, leaning lazily against a stone pillar with a single hand resting on his cutlass, was a man wearing a full-face steel helmet and a dirty cloak.
Al. The moment his helmeted head turned toward the newcomers, he visibly froze.
Even though his face was hidden, his shoulders slumped in immediate, crushing weariness.
"Hold your ground, Medium," Abel's deep, filtered voice commanded, stopping the blonde girl in her tracks. His hidden gaze locked onto the approaching group. His eyes narrowed behind the slits of his mask. "We have a collection of unauthorized variables. Explain yourselves."
"Hey! Watch your mouth, mask face!" Garfiel growled, stepping forward with his fangs bared. "We didn't come here to get lectured by some guy hidin' behind a piece of painted wood!"
"Garfiel, please," Emilia said, stepping in front of him. She offered Abel a polite, yet incredibly firm bow. "My name is Emi...ly. We came as fast as we could. Zikr-san told us we would find you here... and that you could help us."
Abel remained perfectly still.
"Save the cheap deception, half-elf," Abel stated coldly, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. "Silver hair. Purple eyes. A great spirit in the form of a child. A demi-human of high caliber, and a merchant. You are the faction of the half-elf seeking Lugunica's throne. What business does a rival royal selection candidate have in my Empire?"
Emilia's breath hitched, but she didn't step back.
"We don't care about your politics," Otto said, stepping forward to stand beside Emilia. He rubbed his temples, trying to ignore his spinning head. "We are here for Natsuki Subaru. Zikr-san informed us that he was taken to Ginunhive and that he'll be headed for the capital city of Lupagana."
"Taken?" Abel let out a short, dry chuckle from behind his mask. "You are misinformed. He was not taken there."
Beatrice's eyes widened in sudden, sharp anger. "What do you mean by that, in fact?!"
"I sent him there," Abel said coldly.
The declaration hung in the air, instantly freezing the plaza.
"You... sent him?" Emilia repeated, her voice trembling slightly.
"Gladiator Island is a prison!" Otto yelled, his diplomatic composure cracking. "You sent a citizen of a foreign nation—our friend—to a slaughterhouse?!"
"He is a piece on my board," Abel replied, entirely unfazed by their outrage. "And a highly volatile one at that. I sent him to Ginunhive to achieve a specific result. I needed the gladiators of that island as reinforcements for my revolution. If he could not survive and deliver them to me, then he was of no use."
"You lowlife bastard——!" Garfiel roared, his muscles bulging as he prepared to lunge.
Yorna took a slow puff from her pipe, blowing a ring of fragrant smoke between Garfiel and Abel. "Easy now, wild beast," Yorna murmured, her voice smooth but carrying an undeniable weight. "The... masked traveler is harsh, but he speaks the truth of our situation. We are in the middle of a war."
"I don't care about your war!" Petra cried, her eyes tearing up as she glared at Abel. "Subaru-sama isn't just a piece for you to throw away!"
"Then you underestimate him," Abel said. "A dispatch arrived from my scouts shortly before you did. The Gladiator Island has fallen. The gladiators have rebelled under his name, and they are currently marching to join our forces."
A collective gasp of shock and profound relief washed over the Emilia Camp.
"He's... he's okay," Petra whispered, a bright, tearful smile breaking across her face. "I knew he'd do it!"
Rem, who had remained silent behind the group, let out a soft, almost imperceptible breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"That idiot contractor of mine..." Beatrice muttered, though her tiny shoulders visibly relaxed. "Always causing a scene, I suppose."
"But... what about Gojo-sensei?" Emilia asked, her voice turning urgent as she looked between Abel and Yorna. "We heard he was here in Chaosflame before. Is he with you? Does he... does he remember anything yet?"
At the mention of Satoru Gojo, Petra's hands clenched tightly into her apron. "Please, tell us. Gojo-sama... we want to help him get his memories back."
Yorna's eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of the white-haired man. She set her pipe down, her expression turning somber.
"The strange child with the blindfold... he is no longer here," Yorna said quietly. "He left shortly after the town was attacked. His mind is still fractured, child. He wanders, searching for a reflection he cannot see."
Emilia's heart sank, her hand going to her chest.
Before she could speak, Meili let out a quiet, eerie chuckle from her spot by the crate. "My, my, everyone is so loud today~. Are we going to play a game? Or are we just going to stand here and talk about other people behind their backs all day, I wonder~?"
Beatrice glanced at Meili, her brow furrowing slightly at the faint, unsettling scent of Witchbeasts that clung to her, but she quickly dismissed it.
"Wait, you guys came from Guaral, right?" Medium asked, stepping forward with her eyes shining. "If the city is safe, then my brother must be there! Did you see him? His name is Flop! He's tall, wears a fancy hat, and talks a lot!"
The cheerful question instantly brought a suffocating, heavy silence over the Emilia Camp.
Emilia and Otto exchanged a pained, guilty look. Garfiel averted his gaze, staring at the dirt.
Medium's smile slowly faltered. Her large, bright eyes scanned their faces, a cold dread washing over her. "What's... what's with those faces? He's okay, right? My bro is okay, isn't he?"
"Medium-san..." Emilia started, her voice incredibly soft, laced with a deep sorrow. "Guaral is safe. But... during the battle, a divine general named Madelyn Eschart attacked. We managed to force her to retreat, but..."
"But what?!" Medium yelled, taking a desperate step forward.
"She took him," Otto said quietly. "She took Flop-san with her when she fled. We couldn't stop her in time. We're so, so sorry."
Medium froze. The color drained from her face, her hands trembling violently as the news shattered her world. "Flop... got taken? By a Divine General...?"
Al let out a heavy, dragging sigh under his helmet. He stepped forward, placing his single hand firmly on Medium's shoulder to steady her shaking frame.
"Hey, easy, kid. Take a breath," Al said, his voice surprisingly gentle, though he glared at Abel through the slit of his helmet. "See, Boss? This is what happens when you treat people like pieces. The board gets messy."
Abel didn't flinch.
"...If the boy is marching," Abel declared, ignoring Al entirely as he looked back at the map Tanza was holding. "Then our window of opportunity is narrow. We must prepare. Chaosflame will be our staging ground. Whether you choose to assist or get in our way... that is up to you."
"We're helping," Emilia said, her purple eyes flashing with a fierce, absolute resolve as she stepped beside Medium. "We're going to get Flop-san back. We're going to find Subaru. And we're going to save Gojo-sensei. We're not leaving until we do."
"Even if I gotta beat it into him to make that white-haired bastard remember!" Garfiel said.
Medium's knees buckled. If Al hadn't been holding her shoulder with his single hand, she likely would have collapsed right to the ground.
"Flop... my bro..." she whispered, her voice cracking as she stared blankly at the ground. "He's... he's really gone?"
"We will bring him back, Medium-san," Emilia said, her purple eyes filled with a soft but unshakeable warmth as she stepped closer. "We won't let anything happen to him. I promise you."
Abel watched the interaction, his eyes completely hidden behind his oni mask.
Within his mind, a thousand calculations were shifting, discarding old variables and realigning the board. He looked at the newcomers.
They were high-spec. Incredibly high-spec.
A fighting force of this caliber would be an invaluable asset in the coming siege.
And the best part of it was they had absolutely no choice but to cooperate.
"It seems you understand the reality of your situation, merchant." Abel said, his voice flat and filtering through the mask.
Otto let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his grey hair. He looked at Emilia, then at Garfiel.
"He's right, Emilia-sama," Otto said, his voice tight. "Even if we wanted to ignore this revolution and just take Natsuki-san back... we can't. Ginunhive is already empty. The gladiators are marching. If we try to head to the capital of Lupagana on our own, we'll be crushed by the main imperial defense before we even get close to the gates."
"We'd be walkin' straight into a meat grinder," Garfiel spat, though he hated admitting it. He glared at Abel. "So we gotta ride your wave to get to the Cap'n. Is that what 'yer sayin', mask-face?"
"It is the only logical path," Abel replied. "To throw yourselves into the capital alone is not a rescue mission. It is merely a complicated suicide. If you wish to reclaim Natsuki Subaru, you will stand with my army. You will break the gates of Lupagana, dismantle the false emperor, and secure your knight in the chaos."
Garfiel gritted his teeth, his fangs bared, but he didn't argue. The logic was solid, and the safety of the captain was the only thing that mattered.
"A convenient arrangement, I suppose," Beatrice huffed, crossing her small arms. "But do not mistake our cooperation for loyalty, masked man. Betty only cares about the safety of her contractor. If you put him in danger again, I will personally turn you into dust, in fact."
"I expect nothing less from a spirit." Abel dismissed her threat without a second thought.
He turned back toward the map Tanza was holding, his mind already weaving these powerful new pieces into his vanguard.
Yorna Mishigure took another slow drag from her pipe, a small, amused smile playing on her lips.
"A prince, a princess, and a pack of wild beasts," Yorna purred, her eyes reflecting the scarlet glow of the city. "The capital won't know what hit them. This is turning out to be quite the show, traveler."
"Indeed," Abel said.
He turned his back to the group, his cloak billowing slightly in the warm southern wind as he gestured for Tanza and Yorna to follow him back toward the castle.
"Unexpected, but useful," Abel muttered, his voice cold and commanding. "Come now. I shall have to shift my planning accordingly."
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The doors of the castle slammed shut, a heavy thud that silenced the voices of Abel, Yorna, and the Emilia Camp. The plaza gradually emptied out until only the sounds of construction remained. Al and Medium stood alone in the shadow of a half-built watchtower.
The medium slid down the stone wall, her face buried in her knees. Her shoulders shook soundlessly.
Al looked at her for a second. He scratched the back of his steel helmet, the metal clinking in the humid air, and drew a slow, dragging sigh.
He approached and sat down on the dirt road next to her, his single leg extended, his cutlass lying across his lap.
"Hey," Al said, his voice muffled by the visor. "Keep your head up, kid."
Medium didn't look up. "He's gone, Al... Flop's always been the one looking out for me. He's weak. He can't even swing a sword. If that dragon girl..."
"She didn't kill him," Al interrupted, his tone flat and pragmatic. "Think about it. If a divine general of all people wanted him dead, she would've squashed him like a bug right there in Guaral. But she didn't. She took him. That means he's a hostage. And as long as he's a hostage, he's got value. He's alive, Medium."
Medium slowly lifted her head, her eyes red and puffy. "You... you think so?"
"I know so. Besides, your bro has a mouth on him. He probably talked her ears off before they even left the city limits. He's tough in the head, even if his arms are noodle-thin." Al offered a small, self-deprecating chuckle. "Trust me when I say this, the talkative ones are the hardest to get rid of."
Medium wiped her nose with her sleeve, letting out a wet, shaky breath. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. Flop is really good at talking. He probably convinced her to buy him lunch by now."
A small fragile smile fought a battle on her face but soon faded as she looked at Al.
Her eyes wandered over the empty, cold steel of his helmet.
"Al..."
"Yeah?"
"How do you know those people?" Medium asked, tilting her head. "The ones who just got here. When the silver-haired girl and the others walked in, you looked like you'd seen a ghost. And... back in Guaral, you knew Subaru. And you knew that white-haired guy."
Al shifted his weight, his helmet tilting slightly downward. "Ah. Well. let's just say I've got some history with the Kingdom. If you spend enough time wandering around Lugunica, you're bound to bump into the big players. The half-elf, her tiger-boy... they're famous. Or infamous, depending on who you ask."
"But it's more than that," Medium pressed, her sharp instincts kicking in. "You didn't just know of them. You looked... tired. Like you knew exactly what kind of trouble they bring. And Subaru... you called him 'bro'."
Al let out a dry, weary laugh. "The guy's... similar to me. In the ways that matter. We're both just regular guys who got dragged into a theater we had no business standing on. He's stubborn, though. Way more than me. I usually know when to fold my hand, but that kid will keep betting chips he doesn't even have."
"I don't understand those terms, but what about the other one?" Medium's voice dropped, her brow furrowing. "The white-haired one. Gojo."
Al's shoulders stiffened visibly. His one hand gripped the hilt of his cutlass a little tighter.
"That scary guy..." Al muttered.
"In Guaral, when he was fighting... you didn't look like you wanted to help him. You looked like you wanted to run away," Medium said softly. "He is the enemy, so I guess it makes sense, but why does he make you so tense in comparison to any other enemies we've run into?"
Al was silent for a long moment. The background noise of hammers hitting stone filled the gap, heavy and rhythmic.
"He's unreasonable," Al finally said, his voice dropping into a low, deadpan register. "I don't like 'unreasonable' people, Medium."
"Unreasonable...?"
"Yeah. Almost all people in this world have rules. Even the strong ones. You swing a sword; it cuts. You cast a spell; it burns. If you make a mistake, you pay for it. There's a flow to things. A set of cards everyone has to play."
Al tilted his head back against the stone wall, staring up at the scarlet sky.
"But guys like him... and that red-haired Sword Saint back in the Kingdom... they don't play cards. They just flip the table over and decide they win. That white-haired bastard... with those eyes of his..."
Al's hand shook a little on his hilt. He remembered how it felt to be close to Gojo. It wasn't just the suffocating density of his very existence. The eyes.
Al's entire survival—his very existence—relied on hidden tricks. It depended on an invisible chain of cause and effect that nobody else was supposed to see or understand. But when Gojo looked at him, even through those bandages... Al felt a primal, bone-deep dread.
He felt those blue eyes could see right through his helmet, right through his lies, right through the very fabric of the reality Al desperately tried to manipulate to stay alive.
It was a full-blown 'divide-by-zero' error in human form.
"He looks right through you," Al whispered, the weariness in his voice heavier than usual. "It makes my skin crawl. Like he's looking at a script I'm trying to burn. I don't really hate the guy... but I'd be perfectly happy if I never had to stand in the same room as him again."
The Medium listened to him, not really understanding the abstract fear but hearing the deep, real worry in his voice. She reached out and patted his arm.
"Well, he lost his memories anyway, right?" She said, trying to offer some comfort.
"Yeah," Al sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he patted her back in return. "But he's still a guy who can still probably flatten a mountain if he throws a tantrum. But anyway... we've got a war to prepare for."
He pushed himself up, offering his hand to help her stand.
"Let's go, Medium. We're going to get your bro back, even if we have to drag him out of wherever he'd been kidnapped ourselves."