Hours passed.
Each felt like it stretched beyond 60 minutes.
The rain did not fade gently. It simply stopped.
One moment it was there, drumming against stone and earth, soaking the world in a gray curtain. The next, silence. Heavy, damp silence, broken only by the distant drip of water sliding off leaves and rock.
Subaru opened her eyes.
Dawn had crept in while she wasn't paying attention. Pale light bled across the horizon, thin and cold, brushing the cave mouth in washed-out gold. The air smelled clean now, wet soil and moss, sharp enough to sting her lungs when she breathed in.
She did not hesitate.
The instant she realized the rain was over, she pushed herself up, shook the stiffness from her limbs, and turned her back on the cave. No stretching. No lingering glances. No goodbyes. Staying any longer felt like tempting fate.
She walked.
Her boots pressed into soft ground, leaving shallow prints that filled slowly with water. Her cloak clung damply to her shoulders. The cloth wrapped around her head stayed firmly in place, hiding the faint pressure of horns beneath it. She adjusted it once, fingers quick and practiced, then dropped her hand as if nothing were wrong.
It was already dawn. Every second mattered.
Behind her, light footsteps followed.
Subaru didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Übel hummed cheerfully as she skipped after her, hands clasped behind her back like they were out on a leisurely morning stroll instead of trekking through wet wilderness with a stranger who had made it very clear she wanted space.
The sound crawled up Subaru's spine.
They walked like that for several minutes. Subaru ahead, eyes forward, pace steady. Übel behind, unbothered, boots splashing lightly through puddles. The distance between them stayed irritatingly consistent, like Übel had calibrated it on purpose.
Subaru clenched her fist.
Ten minutes. Maybe more. Time stretched thin when annoyance crept in.
She let out a long breath through her nose and spoke without looking back. "Stop following me."
Übel's response came instantly, light and sing-song. "I'm not following you. We're just going the same way."
Subaru's eye twitched.
She picked up her pace, steps lengthening, stride sharper. The forest thinned gradually as they went north, trees spaced wider apart, the ground uneven and slick with mud. Subaru navigated it easily, boots splashing, cloak swaying with her movement.
Behind her, Übel's footsteps adjusted just as smoothly.
Subaru walked faster.
So did Übel.
Subaru nearly jogged.
Übel matched her, still humming.
Subaru broke into a run.
So did Übel.
The sound of their footfalls echoed through the trees now, breath fogging faintly in the morning air. Subaru's heart pounded, irritation mixing with something sharper, something closer to panic. She hated this. Hated being mirrored. Hated how easily Übel kept up without sounding winded, without dropping that maddeningly relaxed air.
Enough.
Subaru skidded to a stop so abruptly that mud splashed up her boots.
Übel stopped too, neatly, like she'd been expecting it.
Subaru turned on her, eyes blazing. "Okay. Okay, no. This is too much."
Übel blinked innocently.
"What's your deal?" Subaru snapped. "Huh? Didn't I already say I'm broke?"
Her hands curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. She forced herself not to flare mana, not to let instinct take over. Drawing attention here would be stupid. Dangerous.
"What do you want from me?" Subaru went on, voice sharp, words tumbling faster now that they were out. "Don't tell me you're some kind of weirdo who follows cute girls around just because you can."
The thought made her skin crawl. "Or worse," she added, grimacing, "some creep who likes to mess with people for fun. Taint them or whatever."
Even saying it made her cringe.
Übel stared at her for a second.
Then she pouted.
Actually pouted.
Her lips pushed forward, brows knitting together in exaggerated offense. "Hey," she said, tone wounded. "I was just having some fun."
She tilted her head, green hair slipping over one eye. "Besides, bold of you to think you're… cute."
Subaru stared at her.
For a heartbeat, the tension snapped, replaced by sheer disbelief.
She dragged a hand down her face and sighed. A tired, bone-deep sound. "Alright. Enough games."
Übel's pout melted back into that familiar smile, sharp and curious.
Subaru straightened, shoulders squaring. "Be straight with me."
"Why?" Übel asked immediately. "What if I am not straight?"
Subaru cringed. "Be straightforward,"
"Huh, why?"
The question wasn't hostile. It was curious. Like she genuinely didn't understand why Subaru would want something as boring as honesty.
Subaru met her gaze, unblinking. "Because you're creeping me out."
The words hung between them, heavy and blunt.
"I don't like being followed," Subaru continued. "I don't like being tested. And I really don't like not knowing what someone wants from me. So tell me."
She gestured vaguely between them. "What's your goal?"
For a moment, Übel didn't answer.
The forest around them felt still, as if listening. Birds remained quiet. Even the wind seemed to hold back. Subaru became acutely aware of the space between them, the fact that if Übel attacked now, she would have to react instantly.
Übel's smile sharpened.
Not faded. Softened. Like a knife laid flat instead of pressed to skin.
"I just want to understand you," she said.
Her voice was calm. Almost gentle. Yet her smile was sharp.
And that, more than anything else she had said or done, made Subaru's stomach twist.
Was she stuck in something worse than loops?
───✧───
The room inside the church smelled of old wood, incense, and damp stone.
Sein had rolled up his sleeves without a word. His priestly robes were stained now, not just from the quicksand earlier but from sweat and traces of blood. Stark lay on the table before him, chest rising and falling in harsh, uneven breaths. Every inhale looked like it scraped his lungs raw. His red hair was plastered to his forehead, his skin pale beneath a sheen of fever.
Sein had seen wounds before. War wounds. Monster wounds. Demon wounds.
This was different.
He pressed his fingers lightly near one of the stab sites, careful not to apply pressure. Stark flinched instantly, a low sound tearing from his throat before he could stop it. Sein withdrew his hand at once.
The wounds were deliberate. That much was obvious.
They were placed where they would hurt the most without killing him outright. Not deep enough to sever vital organs. Not shallow enough to be ignored. Each cut had been measured, spaced, and angled with cruel precision. Whoever had done this knew anatomy well enough to dance along the edge of death and never cross it.
Sein closed his eyes and murmured a prayer, golden light blooming softly around his palms as he channeled divine healing. The glow touched Stark's skin.
Nothing happened.
The light slid over the wounds like water over glass, refusing to sink in.
Sein frowned and tried again, this time adjusting the flow, thinning it, coaxing it to seep deeper. The glow dimmed, concentrated.
Still nothing.
He leaned closer, eyes narrowing, senses reaching beyond the physical. Mana pulsed faintly around the wounds, but it was wrong. Twisted. Not unstable, not spreading, not decaying further. It simply existed, embedded into Stark's flesh like a foreign organ.
Mana, yes. But altered.
Corrupted in a careful way.
"Damn it," Sein muttered under his breath.
He reached for herbs next, crushing them with practiced motions, applying poultices that should have soothed pain and accelerated healing. The herbs darkened, lost their potency the moment they touched Stark's skin, as if the mana embedded there rejected anything that tried to interfere.
Stitching was useless. The flesh resisted thread like it was already scar tissue, stiff and unyielding.
Normal healing did nothing.
Divine miracles did nothing.
There was no worsening either. No rot. No spreading curse. No fever from infection. The wounds simply stayed exactly as they were, locked in place, eternally fresh.
Sein straightened slowly, breath heavy.
He could try more. He could exhaust himself searching for some loophole, some technique buried deep in scripture or half-forgotten medical theory. But he knew better.
Anything else would only waste time.
Time Stark did not have.
He glanced toward the door. He could feel it even from here, the weight of expectation pressing from the other side. Fern's anxious silence. Frieren's stillness, more tense than she let on.
Sein wiped his hands on a cloth, then stepped away from the table.
"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, not sure if Stark could hear him.
He left the room.
The door creaked softly as it opened, and Fern looked up at once. Her violet eyes were wide, hands clenched tightly in front of her robes.
"How is Stark-sama?" she asked immediately, voice trembling despite her effort to stay composed.
Sein did not sugarcoat it.
"He's alive," he said. "But I can't heal him."
Fern froze.
"What… do you mean?"
Sein ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. "The wounds were made to cause pain, not death. The mana used is corrupted, but stable. It doesn't worsen and it doesn't allow healing. Stitching fails. Herbs fail. Divine healing fails."
Fern's lips parted slightly. "Then… then what can we do?"
Sein hesitated, then spoke the truth. "If even I can't understand this mana well enough to interact with it, then there is only one person who might."
Frieren lifted her head at once.
"Who?" Fern asked.
Frieren did not wait for Sein to answer. She turned and walked back into the room.
She stood beside Stark's bed, silver hair catching the dim light filtering through the church windows. Her green eyes studied him carefully, not just his wounds but the faint traces of mana lingering around them. Her expression was calm, but her silence stretched longer than usual.
Fern followed her in, stopping a step behind.
Frieren spoke at last. "The Last Mage from the Mythical Era. Serie."
Fern's breath caught. "Your master's master?"
"Yes."
The name carried weight. Even the church seemed to hold its breath around it.
Frieren turned back toward the door, already reaching for her staff. "Get ready."
Fern straightened instantly, fear and resolve mixing in her eyes. "Where are we going?"
Frieren looked outside the window. The decision was final.
"We're going North," she said.