...
{3rd Pov}
The First Loop
"What? What is happening here?!" Emilia cried out in shock, her voice trembling as her wide, athyst eyes locked onto the dying figure lying before her—Subaru, his lifeless body sprawled on the cold cobbled ground, soaked in a pool of blood that was steadily expanding beneath him.
The last flicker of life in his eyes faded into emptiness just as Emilia rushed to his side, her heart pounding with dread and disbelief.
"Lia, he's gone… he's dead," Puck said solemnly, his soft voice barely above a whisper as he floated beside her, gazing down at Subaru's corpse with sorrowful eyes.
Emilia's entire body trembled. Her lips quivered, and her hands clenched into fists. She slowly lifted her gaze and turned it toward the three trembling figures nearby—three n who stood frozen in place, their faces pale and filled with fear.
"W-We just wanted to steal from him! We didn't an to kill him!" one of them stamred. It was Rachins, the most vocal of the trio.
Their nas were Rachins, Camberley, and Gaston—nas that Envy Subaru had once joked about, nicknaming them Chin, Kan, and Ton after their odd dynamic which Subaru also used to refer them by these nas.
Guilt gripped Emilia's chest like a vice. If only she had arrived sooner… if only she had moved faster… maybe—just maybe—she could have saved him. The remorse weighed heavily on her heart.
"Lia, this isn't your fault… He was a stranger. We didn't even know who he was," Puck said gently, his tone consoling and calm. Emilia nodded slowly, trying to accept the truth, though her heart refused to feel peace.
The three thugs began backing away, their intentions clear—they wanted to flee, to escape justice for the cri they had just committed.
"Puck," Emilia said firmly, and the spirit nodded, understanding her unspoken command.
In an instant, glimring ice javelins materialized in the air and launched forward, slamming into the ground just ahead of the fleeing n. A burst of frost exploded outward, encasing their feet in a thick sheet of ice, rendering them immobile. They fell to the ground with loud thuds, yelping in terror and pain.
"You killed an innocent person—you must be punished for your actions!" Emilia shouted, her voice laced with fury and indignation.
Though she hadn't known the black-haired boy, there was no doubt in her mind—he was soone's son, soone's friend, soone's loved one. And now, because of their cruelty and greed, his life had been senselessly extinguished.
Her heart ached with grief and revulsion. How could they? How could they kill for sothing as trivial as coin or possessions?
She could not forgive them. She would not forgive them.
The sounds of the confrontation had drawn the attention of others. Bystanders, townsfolk, and a few curious onlookers began to gather. Before long, a group of knights arrived at the scene, drawn by the thugs' cries and the faint surge of magical energy that lingered in the air.
Emilia, dressed in her pale magic robe that usually cloaked her presence and kept her from being easily noticed, now stood openly exposed, her silver hair shimring under the afternoon sun.
"What happened here?" one of the knights asked authoritatively, stepping forward and surveying the scene with sharp eyes.
Emilia quickly relayed the events—how she had found the boy dying, how the thugs had admitted their cri, and how she had prevented their escape. Her hand pointed toward the still-warm corpse lying motionless on the street.
The knights turned their gaze to Subaru's body. For a brief mont, their expressions displayed mild sympathy. Then, their eyes scanned his clothing.
He wore strange garnts, unfamiliar to them—foreign, peculiar, and clearly not of Lugunican make.
One of the knights crouched beside the body and began searching through Subaru's belongings. Among them was a curious rectangular object—what Subaru might have once called a phone. The device lit up and displayed symbols they had never seen before.
And then… gold.
"Twenty Holy Gold coins," whispered one of the knights to his partner, barely able to conceal his excitent.
The other knight's eyes widened under his helt, a greedy grin forming on his face.
By Od… Did this thieves rob a noble or sothing? With this kind of money, we'd be set for life, he thought gleefully.
Aloud, the knight maintained his official tone. "Unfortunately, he is dead. Miss, you will need to co with us to provide an official statent. These three criminals will be taken into custody."
The knights had already decided—they would lock away the thugs, file the report, and quietly claim the loot for themselves. They would keep the mysterious box-like tia, perhaps sell it to a collector or smuggler. As for the body, who would care about a foreigner? As long as he wasn't a Lugunican noble, no one would question it.
Emilia nodded slowly, unaware of the knights' silent sches. Her mind was elsewhere. She was hesitant, distracted by another worry that clawed at her thoughts—her stolen insignia.
What should I do? she asked through their contracted telepathic link, seeking counsel from Puck.
Let's give our statent and continue our search, Puck replied calmly. If the loss of your insignia becos public knowledge, your eligibility for the throne will be questioned. People won't trust soone who can't even safeguard sothing so vital.
Emilia sighed and nodded in agreent. Puck was right. If the world knew she had lost her Royal Candidate's insignia, the very symbol of her legitimacy, her chances of becoming ruler would vanish. After all, how could she hope to lead an entire kingdom when she couldn't even keep a magical trinket secure?
Before she could speak again, a voice, sharp and cold, cut through the tense air.
"What has happened here?"
The knights froze in place, their backs straightening instinctively. They turned and saw a figure approaching.
"Lady Reina!" one of the guards said quickly, snapping to attention and saluting with nervous respect. "These three thugs are responsible for the murder of a citizen. We have detained them and will proceed with an official investigation. This young lady is the one who witnessed the cri and prevented their escape."
As he spoke, he subtly shifted his stance, hiding the plastic bag filled with coins and strange objects behind his back.
Reina's sharp eyes scanned the surroundings as she arrived, but her gaze quickly settled on Emilia. Recognition flickered in her expression, followed by a jolt of surprise.
Isn't she one of the Royal Candidates? Reina wondered, her brows furrowing subtly. Is that why I've been feeling this sense of unease?
For so inexplicable reason, a growing discomfort had been gnawing at her all day—a strange foreboding, as though sothing precious was about to be stolen, as if fate itself was beginning to slip through her fingers.
She shook the thoughts from her head and turned her attention to the lifeless figure on the ground. The corpse was that of a young man, his black hair matted with blood, his expression frozen in sheer terror—the face of soone who had died in pain and confusion. His dark eyes stared vacantly at the sky above, never to see again.
"M-Miss Reina…?" Emilia's voice wavered, confusion clouding her features. Even the knights standing nearby were visibly stunned—because tears were streaming down Lady Reina's cheeks.
"Lady Reina! Is sothing wrong?!" one of the knights asked in alarm, breaking formality out of sheer disbelief.
They all knew who she was—Reina, the Sword Saint. She was a noble of a prominent duchy, a warrior without equal, and widely acknowledged as the strongest person in the entire Kingdom. Even though she possessed no magical affinity, her body was host to countless Divine Blessings, granting her abilities so extraordinary that they often mimicked magic.
She was a figure of awe and envy alike.
Many revered her. Others resented her. But all respected her.
To most, she was cold, strict, and fiercely unapproachable. Her detached deanor led to rumors—stories of arrogance and emotionlessness. Whispers followed her wherever she went. Even those who admired her greatness kept their distance.
But now? She was crying—openly, visibly—and it made no sense to anyone.
Even Reina herself seed bewildered.
"You are crying," Emilia said gently, her voice soft and laced with both empathy and curiosity. Then she asked quietly, "Was he soone important to you?"
Reina blinked and touched her cheek. Moisture. Her own tears. She hadn't even noticed them. She rubbed them away slowly, still staring at Subaru's body.
I'm crying? But why?
Her gaze returned to the dead boy. She didn't know him. She was certain of that.
I've seen people die before. Many. I didn't cry then… So why now? the thought haunted her.
An unfamiliar weight pressed on her chest—an aching sadness and a hollow pang of guilt.
She exhaled deeply, calming herself as best she could. "I will personally oversee the investigation into his identity," she declared at last, her voice firm again, though a hint of sadness lingered. "If he is a foreign noble, his family deserves to be inford. No one should be forgotten like this."
The knights straightened at her words, their pride in her authority montarily overshadowed by a flicker of nervousness. Her eyes suddenly turned to the plastic bag one of them was subtly trying to hide.
Her gaze sharpened.
"Give everything you recovered from the body," she ordered, her voice ice-cold.
The knight hesitated only a fraction of a second before complying, handing over the bag that contained Subaru's strange belongings—his phone, his wallet, a few possessions.
'Atleast we managed to keep the thieves twenty Gold coins' they thought relieved.
Reina accepted them silently, eyes flickering over the foreign objects with the poise of soone determined to understand.
Emilia was escorted away shortly afterward to provide a brief statent. Before leaving, she glanced back at Reina several tis, debating inwardly whether to confide in her—about her stolen insignia, about her fears and failures. But in the end, fear won. The fear of exposure. Of humiliation. Of being seen as unworthy.
If I tell her I lost my insignia… she thought, I might lose my right to be a candidate. If I can't protect a single item, how can I be trusted to rule a kingdom?
So she said nothing. And soon, she departed, her heart heavier than before.
The next day arrived, and Reina still had not returned to the mansion. While Emilia searched desperately for clues, she discovered only two corpses inside a rotting slum building—one was that of a young blonde girl, the other an elderly man. Their bodies bore signs of struggle, but the thief—the one who had stolen her insignia—was already dead.
With their deaths, Emilia's lead vanished.
And not long after, the truth surfaced—the fact that Emilia had lost her insignia was exposed to the public.
Scandal erupted. Her reputation was stained.
anwhile, Reina stood silently before Subaru's corpse once more, gazing at the boy who had died alone in an alley, far from anyone who might have truly known him. She clenched her fists tightly, her knuckles white with emotion.
"I don't know who you are…" she whispered, her voice barely audible, "and I don't know why your death makes feel this way… but once again, I've failed. I was slothful, distracted, and because of that, I couldn't save everyone."
The weight of guilt pressed down harder. Her pride, her power, her titles—they were aningless against the remorse festering in her heart.
With a final glance, she turned and walked out of the room.
Today, her duties resud. She had not slept the night before, nor had she eaten anything since morning. But thanks to her Divine Blessings, she felt no physical fatigue.
Emotionally, however, she was fraying at the seams.
As she moved through the halls of the garrison, she passed by several knights who were speaking in hushed tones, not realizing she was nearby.
They were laughing.
Mocking.
"…The Royal Candidate who lost her insignia… what a joke."
"…Can't even guard a glowing trinket and wants to rule a kingdom?"
"…As expected of an half-elf"
Reina ignored their words, after all it didn't concern her.
And then—everything changed.
She froze.
A wave of pure dread washed over her. Her instincts scread danger, but not the kind she could fight with a sword.
She looked around.
Everything was subtly… fading.
The colors around her dimd.
The sharpness of sound dulled, like hearing through water. No noise. No magical flux. No Divine Blessing alerts. No tremors, no signs of incoming danger.
It was as if reality itself was being erased.
Knights and civilians nearby began to panic, screaming as they saw their hands and bodies begin to turn translucent, fading like mist.
Reina's eyes widened. This wasn't magic. It wasn't a curse. It wasn't even divine intervention.
This was sothing else.
She drew her blade in a flash, unleashing a pillar of radiant light toward the unseen force responsible. The ground beneath her cracked from the sheer force.
But there was no target.
It was everywhere—and nowhere.
The erasure continued.
And for the first ti in years… the Sword Saint felt fear not of death—but of oblivion.
She burned through layers of reality—through space, through ti, through concepts themselves—but in the end, even her defiance wasn't enough. The world began to unravel at the seams. People panicked. Chaos consud cities. Riots ignited, screams echoed across the land, and then… silence.
Absolute, eternal silence.
The world had fallen.
Everything had been utterly erased.
Now, what remained was a bleak, shadowy void, where the light had no place to reach. A heavy, gray fog blanketed what was once existence. There was no wind, no sound, no feeling—just stillness, as if the universe itself had taken its final breath.
Reina stood amidst the nothingness, alone.
Her legendary blade crumbled into dust, disintegrating within her hand, powerless against the will that had consud everything. Her countless Divine Protections—the blessings that had made her a peerless force, the Sword Saint—were gone.
She still retained the her prowess, due to the Divine Protection of Adaption which itself has vanished. It was most unique of all Divine Protections. Even if stripped of all other Divine Protections, even the Divine Protection of Adaption itself, its effect, Adaptation would persist, allowing her to endure and maintain a fragnt of her extraordinary combat ability.
She scanned her surroundings with narrowed eyes, her gaze landing on the only remaining thing—the boy's body.
It hadn't disintegrated.
Did he do this? she wondered, suspicion laced with confusion. But then—she heard it.
A voice.
Soft. Distorted. Terrifyingly obsessed.
"I love you… I love you… I love you… I love you… I love you…"
The phrase repeated like an endless chant, spilling out from a shadowy figure drifting across the ruined world. Each word dripped with madness and longing, echoing through the void like a dirge of insanity.
Reina's body began to fade—translucent and brittle like the crumbling world around her. She was outlasting even Od Laguna, the world's governing force of fate and existence, but it ant nothing.
Against the overwhelming force of the strongest Authority, the Authority of Envy, she was powerless.
"...Witch of Envy," Reina whispered one final ti, her voice trembling with despair.
That na.
That presence.
There was no mistaking it.
As her form dissolved into the void, her heart felt heavier than ever before. She hadn't just failed to save the world.
She had failed to protect him.
And then, she was gone.
The present itself—the very mont in which they had all existed—was erased from ti.
Subaru's body followed, breaking apart into light and dust.
Yet—his consciousness remained.
In the eerie, lifeless void, the Witch of Envy slowly drifted toward the space where Subaru's remains lingered. Her mouth never ceased its chant.
"I love you… I love you… I love you…"
Every syllable trembled with obsession, with need, with overwhelming hunger.
As she neared, sothing impossible began to happen.
Piece by piece, Subaru's body began to reform, stitched together not by ti or nature—but by the sheer force of her the shared authority between them. The space between them grew smaller, just a few steps away.
Her twisted, broken smile widened into sothing almost joyful.
After so many years… so many agonizing centuries… she could finally see him again.
Her beloved.
He was her envy—the only thing she could never have.
He was her pride—the only one she truly admired.
He was her sloth—the reason she wished to stop ti and live with him forever.
He was her gluttony—the desire to be consud by his presence.
He was her Greed -The one desire she could never satisfy.
He was her wrath—a fire that would burn the world for daring to harm him.
He was her lust—she would give her body, soul, and sanity to him without hesitation.
He was everything.
If only… if only he would look at her with affection.
If only he would whisper her na with those seductive lips.
But then—her fantasy shattered.
"FUCK OFF, WITCH!"
Subaru's voice cut through the silence like a thunderclap. He raised his hand, trembling with defiance, and flipped her off with a middle finger.
The gesture struck harder than any sword.
The chant stopped.
She froze, mid-step.
It was as though her heart cracked into a thousand splinters.
He hated her.
He rejected her.
He wanted her gone.
And so… the Witch of Envy relinquished control.
Her madness faltered. Her will fractured.
She retreated—collapsed inward—and relinquished her grip to her counterpart:
Satella.
The world reford.
With the Witch of Envy subdued, the chains of temporal destruction snapped back into place. Reality healed itself. Ti resud. The earth, sky, and people returned.
The Witch of Envy, now sealed once again, was dragged back into her eternal prison within the Pleiades Watchtower, where dark miasma oozed endlessly from her form.
Satella stood silently inside their prison, cradling the fractured will of her darker self.
"He doesn't rember ," she murmured, sorrow in her voice.
But then her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Well… he reincarnated, so it makes sense, she reasoned.
Deep inside, the Envy personality stirred again—soothing itself with a whisper.
'Yes… yes! He doesn't rember ! That's all! I just need to make him fall in love with again… again, again, again, again…'
The madness rekindled—quiet, but insistent.
Satella, the true will, sighed.
She watched Subaru from afar through their unbreakable connection, forged by the Authority of Envy.
"Why is he so… weak?" she asked herself in dismay. Even without his Authorities, he should have retained sothing… anything. A
His soul felt dim. Fragile. Vulnerable.
She felt a twinge of guilt twist inside her heart.
If I had known he would die like this… I would have given him power. I would have stolen a Divine Armant from one of the ruined worlds. I would have done anything.
But then she rembered.
Flugel's words.
Do not interfere.
He had warned her not to touch Subaru's fate. Not to alter the natural awakening of his Gate. If she ever t him again, she was to observe—nothing more.
Not unless absolutely necessary.
'Still… if things don't improve after a few deaths,' Satella mused, 'I'll try to give him sothing. Just enough to survive.'
She wasn't like the Envy Witch inside her—the maniacal, possessive, destructive half.
She didn't take pleasure in his tornt.
She loved him. Even if that love ant suffering, she wanted to be his strength—not his downfall.
She had already committed the sin of stealing him from his world. She had dragged him to this one—a world full of monsters, betrayal, and blood.
He was alone.
His odds were impossible.
So, in the end, she had secretly shared her Authority of Envy, just enough to awaken an ability that would let him defy death. Not resurrection… but sothing different. Sothing terrifying.
Return by Death.
Even Satella was shaken when she saw what it beca.
A power that could rewind ti itself.
A power to overwrite reality.
A miracle.
And yet, the Witch of Envy had tampered even with that—grasping control over Subaru's save points. She could also control Satella, controlling over him whenever she wanted. She controlled their timing. Satella was helpless to interfere.
If she had been in control from the beginning, she might have perford a proper summoning ritual.
But instead… Envy found him, and in her twisted obsession, simply grabbed him from his original world—ripping him across dinsions without ceremony.
An act of desperate love.
Satella could do nothing but sigh in frustration. After all, that shaless, selfish woman was a part of her.
Her alter ego.
Still—she would watch. She would wait.
And from the darkness of her sealed prison, Satella observed her beloved's path toward greatness, toward pain, and toward the uncertain future they had both chosen.
To be continued...
User Comments
0 comments from readers