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Chapter 18
The Royal Guard's training grounds were filled with the sound of clashing steel, sharp commands, and the distant murmurs of uncertainty.
Every knight in Lugunica knew why they were here.
Because Satella had returned.
And if there was one truth in the world, it was this—
No army could stop the Witch of Envy.
Reinhard stood at the center of the field, watching. His blue eyes swept over the gathered knights, taking in their movements, their discipline, their strength—
And more importantly, their fear.
Even the best of them, the veterans, the ones who had fought demi-humans, bandits, wild beasts, and rogue mages—even they had a faint hesitation in their movements.
Because they knew.
They all knew.
What use was a sword against something that devoured reality itself?
What good was armor when your enemy could erase you with a thought?
Reinhard had no doubt in his own strength.
He would face the Witch of Envy without hesitation.
But these men? These knights, soldiers, and warriors?
They were not ready.
Not for her.
"This is bad."
The voice came from behind him, smooth, confident, carrying an air of refined arrogance.
Reinhard didn't turn. "I know."
Julius Juukulius stepped forward, arms crossed, his violet eyes scanning the knights with a critical gaze.
"The morale is breaking before the battle has even begun," he noted. "If we cannot maintain discipline, we will be defeated before we even lift our blades."
Reinhard nodded. "Agreed."
Julius exhaled through his nose. "Then tell me, Reinhard… do you think we can win?"
The question hung in the air.
The knights continued their drills, shouting commands, moving in unison—but the truth loomed over them like a stormcloud.
Could they win?
Against the Witch of Envy?
Reinhard finally turned to face him.
And said the only thing he could say.
"I don't know."
Ē~Ē
Subaru returned to the church after her time wandering the kingdom.
She had spent the day creeping out civilians, goofing off with children, and villain-talking with Reinhard. A strange mix of experiences, but honestly? One of the better days she'd had since waking up in this nightmare.
But now, she was back.
And that meant one thing—
She had to act like the Final Boss again.
Gone was the awkward idiot fumbling through social interactions. Gone was the girl who got excited over candy and accidentally terrified entire villages. Here, she had to be something else. Something untouchable.
Subaru mist-stepped into the church's grand hall, her arrival silent, her presence immediate.
The cultists who had been gathered froze on the spot, their hooded heads snapping toward her, their devotion palpable.
Betelgeuse twitched violently, his body already beginning to contort in ecstasy. "OHHH! OUR BELOVED HAS RETURNED!"
All of them.
As if some invisible force had knocked them down at once.
Their whispers filled the air.
"The Witch…"
"Her presence is divine…"
"She has returned to us…"
Subaru walked forward, slow, deliberate, every step calculated. The mist around her moved like a living thing, curling and shifting at the edges of her gown, touching the stone beneath her feet like shadows stretching for something unseen.
She kept her face unreadable.
She didn't make any unnecessary movements.
She didn't acknowledge the cultists directly.
A true Final Boss didn't need to.
She stopped before the altar, standing there as the devotion swirled around her, waiting.
Waiting for them to ask.
To beg.
To cling to whatever vague, ominous words she would give them.
Betelgeuse's voice rose above the whispers, his body already trembling violently, his fingers digging into his own face in euphoria. "O most beloved! Most divine! Your return fills our wretched souls with purpose!"
Subaru stared at him.
Said nothing.
The silence stretched.
It lingered.
Then, finally—
"Hmph."
Just that.
A simple, quiet sound.
The cultists shuddered.
As if even the smallest of her acknowledgments was a gift from the heavens.
Betelgeuse let out a choked, ecstatic sob.
Regulus, sitting off to the side, rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Hah. Well, at least you're not dead."
Subaru tilted her head just slightly, her violet eyes shifting toward him.
Regulus tensed.
Just a little.
Not enough to be obvious.
But she saw it.
She let the silence linger.
Then—
"I see."
That was all she said.
Vague. Cryptic. Cool.
The perfect Final Boss response.
Regulus scowled, looking away. "Tch. Whatever."
Sirius was shaking violently, her chains rattling as she absorbed every emotion in the room. "Ahhh… the tension! The devotion! The fear!" She moaned, gripping her chest. "SUCH EMOTION! SUCH BEAUTY!" This chapter was copied from novelping(.)com without permission.
Subaru ignored her.
She turned her gaze to Pandora.
The blonde woman sat in her usual place, composed, graceful, watching with an unreadable smile.
Pandora's gaze met hers.
Subaru didn't speak.
Pandora didn't either.
They simply looked at each other.
A silent understanding.
A game of who speaks first.
And, naturally—
Pandora was the one who broke the silence.
"I trust your travels were… illuminating?"
Subaru took her time to answer.
She lifted a gloved hand, examining her fingertips, as if the question barely mattered.
"It was."
Nothing else.
No details.
No explanations.
Just enough to leave them wondering.
The cultists shivered.
To them, everything she said was a mystery to be unraveled, a prophecy to be interpreted.
She didn't need to explain anything.
She only needed to exist.
And they would twist their own meanings into her words.
Pandora's smile widened slightly.
"Good."
She tilted her head, ever so slightly, studying her.
Subaru could tell.
Pandora knew she was playing a role.
Knew she wasn't like the original Satella.
But Pandora wouldn't call her out on it.
Not yet.
Not when she was still useful.
Subaru lowered her hand, turning away, letting the mist curl dramatically at her feet.
She had played her part.
Let them decipher her words however they pleased.
For now, she had to prepare herself for whatever came next.
Because if she was going to be the Final Boss in this nightmare—
She was going to be the best damn villain they'd ever seen.
TBC
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