"Well, well, well."
Subaru froze.
Every muscle in her body locked at once, as if someone had flipped a switch. Her heart did not race. Her breath did not hitch. Instead, a cold clarity settled over her mind, sharp and immediate.
"Looks like I am not all alone tonight."
The voice came from behind her.
Slowly, carefully, Subaru turned her head.
A girl sat against the far wall of the cave, legs bent, posture casual as if she had been there for hours. She wore a black dress that clung to her frame without restricting movement, paired with sturdy black boots marked by wear. Her hair was green, cut short, pulled back into a loose ponytail that brushed her neck. Her eyes were purple, bright even in the dim light, watching Subaru with open interest.
She smiled.
"That's a nice headwear there."
Subaru said nothing.
Her mind worked furiously, cataloging details. No visible weapon, though that meant nothing. Mana presence strong, sharp, like a blade held just out of sight. Not a villager. Not a traveler. Something else.
Danger.
The girl tilted her head slightly, unfazed by the silence. "My name is Übel. What's yours?"
Subaru stared at the girl in the cave, saying nothing.
She was good looking, that much was undeniable. Not in a gentle way, not in the polished, careful way of nobles or mages from cities. It was the kind of beauty sharpened by danger. Lean body, relaxed posture that carried no wasted movement, eyes that did not wander but locked on their target and stayed there. A hunter's gaze.
And beneath that, something else.
Bloodlust.
It was not subtle. It was not raging either. It was calm, contained, like a blade resting in its sheath. Subaru could feel it pressing against her skin, not physically but somewhere deeper, brushing against her mana, testing it. The sensation made her stomach tighten.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The rain outside the cave filled the silence, water striking stone in a steady rhythm.
"Can't you speak?" the girl finally said.
The words snapped Subaru back into herself. She blinked, realizing she had been staring too long, frozen somewhere between fear and calculation.
"I… uh," she said, the sound of her own voice grounding her. "I am Subaru."
The girl's smile widened slightly, as if that answer amused her.
"That's an interesting name," she said. Her purple eyes swept over Subaru from head to toe, slow and unapologetic. "What's a pretty girl like you doing at a place like this?"
Subaru's thoughts scattered.
Pretty. That word landed strangely. She did not feel pretty. She felt tired, wary, hollowed out by repetition and death. Still, the question itself mattered less than what lay behind it. This girl was probing her, the way predators did. Looking for weaknesses. For tells.
Her mind raced.
What if this is like the red-haired boy?
The thought tightened her chest instantly. The loops, the pain, the certainty of death waiting at the end of every wrong choice. What if this was another fixed point, another enemy she could not reason with? What if this one killed her too, again and again?
What if it takes more than a hundred loops this time?
Can I even win?
"Hoo?" the girl said, her brow lifting slightly.
Subaru realized too late what she had done. Mana pulsed outward from her without intent, a reflex born of tension. It was not a spell, not even a conscious release, but it was enough.
The girl's smile sharpened.
"So you're a mage."
Subaru cursed herself internally. She had been so careful until now. So focused on keeping her presence small. And she had ruined it in a moment of fear.
"That's some interesting aura you've got there," Übel said, eyes gleaming with curiosity rather than alarm. "Where are you going?"
Subaru hesitated. Every instinct told her not to answer honestly. Names and destinations carried weight in this world. Still, lying poorly could be worse than lying well.
"Uh," she began, then paused, forcing herself to sound casual. "I was… I was going to Aureole."
Übel frowned. "Where?"
Subaru swallowed. "Ende. Ende."
Something shifted.
The change in Übel's expression was subtle but unmistakable. The playful edge faded, replaced by something flatter. More focused. Her smile did not vanish, but it lost its warmth, if it had ever had any.
"Huh," she said. "Why Ende?"
Subaru crossed her arms defensively, partly to hide how tense she felt. "I… uh, why should I tell you?"
Übel laughed softly. It was not mocking. If anything, it sounded pleased.
"Secrets, huh?" she said. "I like you."
"Sorry," Subaru replied without thinking, exhaustion sharpening her tongue. "You're not my type."
Übel blinked, then laughed again, louder this time. "But you definitely are my type."
A beat passed.
The cave felt smaller somehow. The air thicker.
Übel tilted her head, studying Subaru anew. "Since you're going to Ende, you must be a First Class Mage, right?"
"No," Subaru said immediately. "I'm unregistered."
Übel's eyes widened a fraction. Genuine surprise, this time. "Well, well. That's interesting."
She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on her knees. "You're not the first mage I've seen who's unregistered. But going that far without credentials?" She hummed thoughtfully. "Are you strong, though?"
Subaru's patience thinned. Her nerves were already frayed, and every question felt like another finger pressing into a bruise.
"Listen," she said, meeting Übel's gaze directly. "You're asking too many questions."
Übel did not look offended. If anything, she looked entertained.
"Just curiosity," she replied. "I mean, we are cave mates, right?"
Subaru glanced around the cave, then back at her. Rain still fell outside, steady and unyielding. Leaving now would mean walking back into the storm, exposed and alone.
"Yeah," she said reluctantly. "I guess."
Übel nodded, satisfied. "You do realize you can't pass the Northern Gates without a First Class Mage certificate, right?"
Subaru's jaw tightened. "I'll manage."
"Hm." Übel's eyes flicked to Subaru's axe, then back to her face. "I wonder how. Are you hiring a mage?"
"I'm broke."
"Damn," Übel said sincerely. "What about trying to attend the exam?"
Subaru shook her head. "I don't think I have any pre-existing certificate to apply. I'm unregistered."
Übel clicked her tongue. "Sad."
"Yeah," Subaru replied. "Sad."
The rain continued to fall outside the cave, neither of them moving to break the silence that followed.
───✧───
Sein returned to the church with the lingering smell of smoke clinging to his clothes.
He had taken a break outside, leaning against the stone wall near the back, finishing a cigarette with the quiet satisfaction of someone who had narrowly avoided death and had not yet fully processed it. The quicksand still weighed on his thoughts more than the danger itself. One wrong movement, one moment of panic, and he would have been gone. Buried alive in a forest path that no one would think to search.
He looked down at himself with mild disgust.
Mud streaked his trousers, his boots were caked in wet earth, and his sleeves bore stains that would not come out without serious effort. His hair felt stiff from dried grit. If not for that strange girl with the turban, he would be dead. He owed her his life, even if she had walked away as if pulling a grown man out of the ground was no big deal.
A bath. He desperately needed a bath.
With that mundane thought in mind, he pushed open the heavy wooden door of the church.
"Brother, I'm back—"
The words died in his throat.
A chill ran down his spine so sharply it made his knees lock for a fraction of a second. It was not fear in the usual sense. It was something deeper, more instinctive. A sense of contamination. Of something vile and wrong pressing against the world like a wound that refused to close.
Sein's skin prickled. Cold sweat broke out across his back.
It felt like screaming.
Not sound, but sensation. As if something unseen was howling from the abyss, its echo seeping into the air itself. Tainted. Heavy. Wrong in a way that had nothing to do with physical danger.
He swallowed and slowly turned his head toward the source.
The feeling came from a door down the hall.
The church was quiet, candles flickering softly along the walls, their warm light doing nothing to dispel the sensation crawling over his nerves. The miasma was faint but unmistakable to someone like him, someone who dealt with healing, curses, and the unseen rot that sometimes clung to wounds.
Before he could take another step, the door creaked open.
His brother stepped out.
"Sein," the priest said, relief flickering across his face before it shifted to concern. "Where have you been? And what happened to your clothes?"
Sein exhaled, the pressure easing slightly now that the door was open, though the feeling did not vanish entirely.
"I was stuck in quicksand," he said flatly.
The priest froze. "What?"
"We'll talk about it later," Sein added quickly, waving a hand. "I got out."
The priest frowned but nodded, clearly filing that conversation for another time. "There's a boy who is extremely wounded. He needs your help."
Sein's expression sharpened. "Huh? Let me see."
He did not ask further questions. He moved past his brother and down the hallway, boots echoing softly against the stone floor. With every step closer to the room, that strange sensation intensified. It was not demonic mana in the way he expected. It was something twisted, as if several different wrongnesses were layered atop one another.
He pushed the door open.
The smell hit him first.
Blood, herbs, sweat, and the sharp tang of failed healing magic hung thick in the air. Candles burned low near the bed, their light revealing a scene that made Sein stop short.
A red-haired boy lay on the table, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. His skin was pale, lips tinged faintly blue. Bandages wrapped his torso and limbs, but dark stains spread through them, stubborn and ugly.
Sein's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer.
What are those wounds…
They were stab wounds. That much was obvious. But they were wrong. The edges were too clean in some places and too jagged in others, as if the blade had changed shape mid-strike. The tissue around them looked irritated, not infected in the usual sense, but as though the wounds themselves rejected being closed.
A purple-haired girl stood near the bed, hands clenched tightly around her staff. Her eyes snapped toward him the moment he entered.
"Are you Sein-sama?" she asked quickly, voice tight with urgency. "Please treat Stark-sama."
Sein nodded once, his gaze never leaving the boy. "That's me."
Another figure stepped forward.
An elf.
Silver hair fell straight down her back, untouched by age. Her green eyes were sharp, ancient, and calculating. She looked young but he doubted that.
"I'm Frieren," she said calmly. "This is Fern. That's Stark."
Sein inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the introductions.
"He was fighting a demon, warrior type mage," Frieren continued. "She used some strange blade. These wounds won't mend. We came from Graf Garant's domain. The priest there tried everything and gave up. He recommended you."
Sein felt his throat tighten.
A demon.
Capable of doing such damage?
That explained part of it. But not all.
"I… I'll try my best," he said, forcing steadiness into his voice. "Let me take a look first."
He set his satchel down and rolled up his sleeves, pushing aside the lingering grime of the day. This was not the time to think about baths or cigarettes. Whatever had done this to the boy was still out there. And judging by the feel of those wounds, it was something that should not exist so easily in the world.
Sein leaned over Stark, eyes focused, senses open, and began his examination.