Arc 9, Chapter 46 – “The Witch of Tristitia”

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Translated by:

• Garcar
• Ringo

Machine Translated by:

• Goldkills
• Eliman7

Proofread by:

• King_LAO2964
• Eliman7
• Cirdan Lunae

Japanese to English Checking by:

• Garcar

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• SakuraLCE
• 8_humi
• Theo_buroma

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――God, Buddha, Od Lagna. For as long as I live, I hereby vow to never be picky about anything.

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――The Witch of Tristitia, Petra Leyte.

To begin with, how had Petra ended up in a position to receive the Witch Factor of Tristitia?

The reason why the original proprietor, Clind, had been unable to take on the role, was because he had a duty that only he could fulfill―― because he was the one who had to subdue the Divine Dragon Volcanica.

And ultimately, anybody other than him could have served the role of proprietor just fine.

Naturally, there were some who would be less suited to utilizing the Authority of Tristitia than others, as well as those such as Emilia and Meili, who would serve as capable fighters even without it, and Rem, who had her own role to play, and thus were quickly excluded from candidacy. However, even after leaving out those girls, there were still plenty of candidates.

Hence, the greatest reason why the other final remaining candidates, Ram and Rom-jii, were set aside in favor of selecting Petra to hold the Witch Factor, was due to decisions based on more than just comprehensive fighting strength.

――Simply put, Petra had the topmost ability to wield the Authority.

Felt: [――About the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony… that Roy bastard, given that he insists on devouring everything he can get his hands on, the amount of moves he’s got to play can’t be anything ordinary. What are we gonna do?] / Flam: [Close-quarter, mid-range, and long-distance combat will all be troublesome to perform.] / Grassis: [Foul play. Like the young master.] / Rachins & Gaston: [If he’s the same as Reinhard then how the hell’s anyone supposed to win!?] / Rom: [Don’t’cha be kickin’ up such a loud racket! Grassis, don’t’cha be sayin’ such thoughtless things. It’ll only serve ta overwhelm ‘em.] / Ram: [Hah! You all are quite close. If you already feel like you’ve won, care to share that feeling with Ram?] / Rom: [This girl’s got quite the sharp tongue…] / Felt: [Though, I get what this maid-neechan is trying to say. What do we got?] / Rom: [We’ll keep up the fundamentals like this. The opponent indeed’s got cards ta play no matter the distance, but…] / Rachins & Gaston: [But?] / Rom: [No matter how many cards he’s got in his hand, he’s only got one head ta chose which of ‘em ta play. If we continue attackin’ in waves, he’ll inevitably end up playin’ the wrong card.] / Ram: [Even without that, the opponent’s wounds are deep. Once he gets impatient he will end up wanting to force a progression of the situation. Quite brilliant, Rom-sama.] / Felt: [Heh, my Rom-jii’s amazing, isn’t he?] / Flam: [Indeed, we will be counting on Rom-sama.] / Grassis: [Clap clap, Rom-sama.] / Rom: [We’re in the midst of puttin’ our lives on the line, for cryin’ out loud!] / Meili: [Sorry to interrupt while you’re all having fu~n, but there’s a lot I have to say to Hungry Horse King-chan and the o~thers, so it sort of feels like my head is about to split apa~rt, you know?] / Rachins & Gaston: [――Sorry!!]

With that, the contents of a war council, equivalent to if they had gathered face to face and had discussed earnestly, were Compressed to have happened in a single instant by Petra, exercising the Authority of Tristitia.

Having also accreted Compressions on the thought processes for all of them to conceive their best ideas, she had done so.

???: [If we can compress the distance and time for traversal, like Clind-san’s been doing, then it should also be possible to compress things like thinking time and discussion time… an essential component of such conceptual-type abilities, is that type of paradigm shift!]

Petra: [Since Clind-niisama had always continued to use it the same way, I guess he’s just way too blockheaded.]

While concentrating on the intricacies of operating the Authority, Petra bantered with the translucent Imaginary Subaru.

They were amidst combat. Ordinarily, one might be tempted to complain how distracting it was, but in the particular case of the current Petra, her exchanges with “Subaru” were proving to be a source of great relief.

The small box in which the Witch Factor of Tristitia was preserved―― concealing that which she had inherited from Clind in her breast pocket, Petra continued to experience first-hand the dreadful force of attraction brought about by this power.

Petra: [I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but the term “attraction” just fits way too perfectly.]

Likening the sensation to that of being irresistibly drawn in by “attraction”, Petra scolded herself.

Were she to let her mind relax for even a second, the Witch Factor would immediately tempt Petra with thoughts such as “You could try this” and “You could even try that”, attempting to remove an important shackle binding one to their humanity.

Without that or anything to hold onto, she felt like she would surrender to the sensation of being swallowed up as she shakily stared down over the edge of a great cliff, but――,

Petra: [But, that’s a no-go.]

The sensations of omnipotence, a sweet nectar intoxicating to the likes of man.

Witch Factors were prone to exploiting those weak hearts of humans. And yet, their way of going about it took the form of offering “Well how about this?” as a means to grant that which one desired most.

The more one treasured something, the more they harbored a wish they could not relinquish, that harder it would become to resist its allure.

Certainly, neither the Witch of Greed, nor the former Sin Archbishop of Sloth, Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti, had been exceptions.

Even Petra did not know what might have happened to her if she had lacked a means to sustain her sense of self.

However――,

“Subaru”: [Petra! Tonchin need a follow-up!]

Petra: [Kan-san’s on break, after all-! Leave it to me-!]

As that gallant, boyish voice struck the eardrums of her heart, Petra exercised her Authority―― as Rachins and Gaston agonized over how they ought to handle the onslaught of the brandishment of the blood scythes and the befouling downpour, she Compressed their processes of thought and communication, having them select the best course of action.

The pair immediately made a switch to dealing with the approaching assault; Gaston caught the sanguine scythe with his Flow Method, and Rachins unloaded a gatling volley of fireballs into the befoulment, magnificently tiding them over.

Seeing that, “Subaru” gave a thumbs up, and Petra also returned the gesture.

“Subaru”: [That’s it, Petra! Just like that! You’re so cool!]

Even if it was just an illusion and naught more, the way her beloved was smiling for her cheered her heart to high spirits.

This was it. Thanks to this, Petra could transcend her limits whilst remaining as Petra. ――Unlike the many who had been enthralled by Witch Factors throughout history, Petra was not alone.

That was what kept Petra from falling into corruption as the Witch of Tristitia.

After all――,

Petra: [I don’t want Subaru to hate me.]

If there were any who would laugh at that vanity, then laugh. Fingers ought to be pointed, and ridicule ought to be cast upon Petra.

If necessary, she could make as many excuses as she liked. This was a battle to save the world. She would rescue the many people who lived in the Kingdom from their unease. She had no choice but to protect the grand stage that was the Royal Selection. She was carrying everyone’s hopes upon herself, after all.

I have far more reasons than simply the excuses I’m making. Ram-neesama’s always eager to slack off on everything, but she’s fighting her hardest. Frederica-neesama’s staying back to attend to things, but she’s praying for me. Otto-san’s always acting way too recklessly. The fact that I’m moving in accordance with the Master’s expectations is truly unpleasant. I want to show off to Emilia-neesama and Rem-neesama. I’ll roar out like a tiger on Garf-san’s behalf too. Meili-chan, don’t make such a worried expression. Beatrice-chan, I’ll definitely save you so you mustn’t cry.

All of those were precious to her, and no doubt reasons why Petra was giving it her all, but the number one thing was different.

My number one, is you. 

To you, I don’t want to show any part of me that’s uncool. I don’t want to show any part of me that’s pathetic. After all, when I find myself reflected in those eyes of yours, I don’t want your attention to drift away for even a second.

With your heart taken by a person who’s always glistening so brilliantly, if I need to present myself with a form that’s always so glisteningly radiant in order to get you to turn to me, then so be it.

That attraction has long since pulled me in.

Don’t call it anything like a Witch Factor. ――The entirety of my being, is made up of love and affection.

Petra: [That’s why, this is nothing.]

No matter how tempting the Witch Factor might be, Petra would never succumb.

So long as these feelings of love resided within her, then neither Gluttony nor the Black Serpent were dreadful in the slightest.

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――God, Buddha, Od Lagna. For as long as I live, I hereby vow to never cry for another.

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The latent might of the Aldebusters―― no, of the assemblage apt of being named as the Witch of Tristitia and her apostles, was something that far surpassed Roy’s anticipations and postulations.

Roy: [How nice, perhaps it is nice, very nice, surely it is nice, certainly it is nice, nothing but nice, as it is nice, because it can be called nice, because it can be praised as nice-! Gluttonous drinking-! Gluttony-!]

Penultimately, what the Witch of Tristitia was carrying out was unbeknownst to Roy.

He simply comprehended, with lucid precision, that she was countering the Authority of Gluttony, enacting the Authority which she possessed to its utmost and bestowing the means to survive upon the entire troupe of Felt and the rest.

Pertaining to the battle, Felt and the others had failed to bear fruits greater than their own abilities as well.

The maximum of their ability was constantly being drawn, poured into the best cup and being utilized, that was all. And what made this possible was the efficacy of the Authority of Tristitia.

However――,

Roy: [It’s not supposed to be something so~ convenient that it can be used as much as pleased, you see.]

As aforementioned, Roy had hearkened from his mother’s mouth the flaw present within the Witch Factor of Tristitia.

Witch Factors that could not be compatible with anyone, were supposed to be defective articles that, on one hand, granted the possessor tremendous might that interfered with the rules of the world, but demanded compensation to that end on the other.

Roy: [We know we do kno~w, Petra-chan absolutely loves Natsuki-san after all.]

The Stomach of Souls―― upon following the newest Memories settled within the treasure house of all that Roy had eaten, he could earnestly feel the valorous sentiments of the Witch, newly born into this world, to be stabbing at his chest.

A young, immature girl, but a girl who shan’t hold her own life dear for the sake of her flaring love.

Upon being told of the necessity to use anything but life itself for firewood in order to regain something valuable that had been robbed, she would perhaps devote anything as fuel without falter.

And, in reality, that was what she was doing. ――However, the stockpile was not endless.

Roy: [The rest, is about which side gets consumed to exhaustion first.]

Just as the Witch of Tristitia had limits, Roy too possessed an allotted time of life.

The reason as to why he willfully did not heal his wounds, blood gushing profusely from them, was because he reworked even his flux of blood into an armament for fulfilling his own objective, employing it as a means to fight.

That sizable forfeiture of sanguine ichor, continued to keep alight the fuse of Roy Alphard’s life.

Indeed, this battle at present, had mounted upon the frontier of whether to eat, or to be eaten.

Roy: [Haha~.]

Exhaling a hot, feverish breath, Roy expressed gratitude to the hunger enlivening his soul.

Until now, as Bizarre Eating, Roy had messily eaten all kinds of articles haphazardly and indiscriminately. Eating them, licking them, coveting and indulging and devouring them, Eclipsing to spoil eleventy lives, Roy Alphard had done so in order to seek an article that would appease the hunger that he had borne since birth.

For that purpose, until he discovered the flavor of his wish, Roy scoured for a match all throughout the world―― resuming to subsist his eathos with this bearing of heart, he ate and felt dispiritedness, he ate and felt despondency, he ate and felt disappointment, no matter how much Eclipsing and Eclipsing to spoil he partook in, he was forevermore tyrannized by the sensation of starvation ever unappeased. [1]

In this heretofore eathos, was born a change.

Its progenitor――,

???: [Here, try it out n’ see. To eat me up, dependin’ on that ya live or ya die. C’mon, ya prick.]

Largely responsible was, within the Tower piercing the heavens in the midst of that sand sea, the proprietor of an overwhelming soul that drove him to distortion, nearly filling to bursting the vessel called Roy Alphard.

――Reid Astrea.

Coming into contact with the soul of the man christened as the first generation Sword Saint, enkindled a drastic reformation in Roy.

Naming himself Bizarre Eating, conscientiously and indefatigably devoting himself to his eathos through multitudes, Roy had been mourning in lament. ――That the hunger borne by the existence known as his self, would never come to be fulfilled, perhaps.

???: [That’s not really unique to you or anything such, though? This lovely lady as well as all the other rabble, everyone everyone every~one, is seeking love that won’t be appeased. How about this lovely lady assists you in finding that nameless something you want. In exchange, what this lovely lady wants is… you get it, right?]

Vocalizing so whilst laughing with a beguiling, sadistic smile, the monster stated itself to become Roy’s mother.

Neither did he trust to open his heart to her, nor did he depend upon her being, in avarice for a possibility Roy could not find by his self, he used his mother. It was probably likewise.

However, no matter how much he ate, no matter how he took a hand blemished with love, he failed to acquire that article which he wanted.

Ley searched for means to appease hunger by finding and picking out worth in each and every singular meal, Louis meanwhile had a definite, tangible prospect of the article she wanted in order to appease hunger, apparently.

Only Roy. Roy alone, did not have that. ――Which now, at last, had been discovered.

Reid: [It ain’t odd, ya prick. Eat or be eaten, that’s how life works, ain’t that so.]

Yes, that’s right. That’s precisely right.

What was wanted, was the real feeling of living. Just the reason to be able to say with a smile from the bottom of the heart, that he was alive.

Mother: [To pour this lovely lady’s entirety for the sake of something wanted, isn’t something like that plainly obvious?]

Yes, that’s right. That’s precisely right.

Even without affection, esteem, or anything at all, only that teaching of his mother’s was helplessly correct.

That was why――,

Roy: [Unless all possible moves all in their entirety, without hesitation and wholly altogether are sunk into i~t, it’s not called love, isn’t i~t!]

Because the opponents were kindly transcending their limits, his side must also respond in kind.

Should he humbly not finish eating the treats that had gone out of their way to be prepared, it would make the name of Gluttony weep.

Roy: [No~w no~w no~w, welcome yourselves to eating welcome yourselves to tasting-!]

Contrary to his limbs, benumbed to cold by the efflux of blood, the voltage of his heart had risen to a crescendo.

Transforming his exuding blood into thorned legs made in the image of those belonging to insects, Roy pulsated thrummingly, and in his backdrop, in concert, the Black Serpent speared into the heavens, becoming a pillar of befoulment, recommencing its hunt comprised of flopping onward with wholly one side.

Black Serpent: [――――]

Rumbling the wind as if thunder, the contagion relentlessly descended upon the flora.

Birthed thereupon was a seemingly undeflectable billow of toxicity, terribly blasphemous. It quite literally swallowed the battlefield in black, pressing to kill all things with murrain pestilence.

But――,

Felt: [Live――!]

Everyone: [――Strong!!]

The command and response akin to a fool’s single bit of knowledge, became an arrow of counterattack baled with composite strength.

Ram’s rend of wind tore the tidal waves of black, and a brigade of beasts with the Hungry Horse King obeying Meili at its vanguard breached an opening. Following up, the well-physiqued men including those newly summoned, lumped themselves together to convene―― the hammer swinging forth vehemently shattered the ground, successfully erecting a bulwark that protected against the blighting toxicity.

That was the stalwart might consequent of the convening of ones who would fail to compare by their individual strengths, a battle of a potpourri of raw effort that retaliated against the advancing fruition of surging death.

Roy: [Judging from the looks of things, Petra-chan’s Authority, is around the shortening of events ri~ght?]

Petra: [Blehh. Won’t tell.]

Roy: [That unfriendly reply is so tempti~ng!]

Amidst the Black Serpent’s befoulment downpouring like rain, ceasing not his onslaught, Roy bolted like a flash of lightning whilst clad in his armor of blood, switching between the odd talents, techniques, and deviances of different suprarational individuals in succession, and the force fist, the Magic, and the curse ballad layered atop one another to torrent upon the herd of prey.

But on every instance, they all immediately rearranged their formation, knit the physical with magical attacks and weaved together resistance―― who guarded what was unintelligible now. Merely the truth that all of them accepted the offense, and all of them countered it would keep on rewriting the battlefield.

――Even in midst of this battle’s escalations, Roy darted his eyes about in inspection of the prey.

The Witch of Tristitia’s Authority being Shortening more or less was unmistaken. It thus reduced the time and distance for movement and was probably also dealing with the time for thought process and judgment.

Its evidence was how the apostles of the Witch of Tristitia, consecutively accreting appearances and disappearances in the battlefield, would grapple with sudden situations without any perplexity, including those participating in the war for the first time―― no, by Shortening the perplexity part of it, they were prepared to be capable of immediately participating in the confronting situation.

Roy: [But how much longer will even that la~st!]

Their grappling resilience and sprightly morale purchased admiration, but both sides were likewise close to limit. Although if Roy were to have one step of an advantage, it was the menace of the Black Serpent he had kept in reserve behind him―― even should the Witch of Tristitia and company vanquish Roy, they then must grapple with this atrocious, fiendish Witchbeast.

That was to say, they could not exhaust all of their strength against Roy as their opponent. And to their circumstance of expending not the entirety of their might, lest it deplete, adding a further pinch of seasoning to the platter――,

Roy: [――Now’s the time to not shoot for the stars, but to shoot for the Eclipse, you see~-!!]

The Black Serpent’s ginormous frame once again speared the heavens, the befoulment on standby to torrentially downpour. Preparing for it, the Witch of Tristitia and company simultaneously stood guard, towards which he disgorged the Memories.

This was――,

Roy: [――『Eclipse Binaries』.]

Neither Solar Eclipse nor Lunar Eclipse, Roy Alphard’s novel and original table manners did he let cascade.

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――God, Buddha, Od Lagna. For as long as I live, I hereby vow to never wish upon a star with another.

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In that moment, what surged onto the battlefield was merely one part of the horde of Memories, multitudes that were apt to be called simple food, that Roy Alphard had eaten until now but failed to find and pick out worth in them to remember.

Following his experience at the Pleiades Watchtower, Bizarre Eating had revised oneself’s own cognizance of eathos.

Gratitude unto all ingredients, reverence unto all trysts of fate. ――There was no such thing as a foul ingredient in this world. It simply meant that his self was the proprietor of a foolish tongue that failed to recognize their goodness.

Take a venomous fish for example. Should the fish’s organs which store venom be adequately disposed of, it would become possible to surfeit a delicacy superior to consuming venom.

The same applied to the prey from Gluttony’s vantage. In this universe, there was no such ingredient, from the head to the rear, that was entirely useless, that lacked all worth of being tasted.

Any and every kind of ingredient had portions that were usable. ――Thus, he used such.

Roy: [――Memories of Agony.]

Over the course of an ordinary life, plausibly everyone would possess a memory or two of having suffered unbearable pain.

These multitudes of Memories of Agony, Roy extracted them from the Stomach of Souls he had stockpiled, blended them together, and hurled them toward the battlefield before his eyes. ――This was not something visible to the eye. Consequently, there were no ways to evade it, either. Its identity: a blasphemous deed of forcing an abstract concept onto the opponents.

Most of all, pelting opponents with Memories of Agony would not produce immediate results. They were literal Memories that the body bore no recollection of, so even upon being pelted by them, there lay no margin for the herd of prey to taste those agonies.

Then, what would transpire? ――It would merely incite a chain of remembrance of Memories in close proximity.

???: [――ah.]

At first, a faint voice leaked from inside the troupe.

They had until now roared with voices of intrepidity, worn valor and resolution on their visages, and anchored in themselves the mettle to confront every obstacle head-on, truly worthy of being called heroic warriors.

From those lips leaked a timbre, neither a warcry nor a call of each other’s names, but a shrill note.

???: [AA, aa, AA, aaAaA—― hk!!]

And upon its onset, the leak persisted ceaselessly.

They dilated their eyes, opened their mouths wide, and placed their hands on parts that became the unsought founts of screaming, screeching helplessly as though spouting blood.

Moreover, this was not one lone individual. Everyone present in that locus began to scream.

Everyone: [――――Hk!!]

The synthesis of Memories of Agony that Roy had hurled impelled the bodies to remember agony within proximity that had been tasted before, for those who were within range of that abstract concept, as though it was a thing of the present moment.

Agony that had been tasted once in the past could be endured. ――Nay, this rationale was erroneous. Agony that was unbearable in the past was unbearable yet in the present, and yet so in the future.

Everyone: [Gagh――]

It was a voice unbecoming to be voiced, a cacophony uproared in succession by Felt, by Ram, by Old Man Rom, by Meili, by Flam, by Grassis, by Gaston, by Rachins, by Doltero, by the apostles summoned to the battlefield by the might of the Authority of Tristitia.

Nobody could brave it. And the one to screech the shrillest wail, above and beyond――,

???: [――Petra!!]

Was none other than Petra Leyte, her eyebrows spasming upward, compelled to taste and even relish the concourse of agonies that had chaperoned Natsuki Subaru to Death.

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――God, Buddha, Od Lagna. For as long as I live, I hereby vow to never rendezvous with another.

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“Subaru”: [――Petra!!]

Hearing the frantic outcry of the Imaginary Subaru, the fact that it seemed like he did not have to experience any of this pain, given that he was a phantom watching her, served as a relief to Petra―― ’twas not so.

It had been unable to serve as such. Any possible leeway for that existed not within Petra Leyte, tasting in the torment of Death.

Petra: [――agh.]

A hoarse breath, spilled forth. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts――.

Petra: [――igh.]

Lacerated abdomen hurts. Crushed eyeball hurts. Stabbed chest hurts. Misfortune wrought by passing malice hurts. Finger cut by poor knife skills hurts. Skin fissures from kitchen work hurts. Head caved in without warning hurts. Body tortured alongside sound of chains hurts. Throat gouged by wind hurts. Jumping off and crashing onto pointy rocks hurts. Body and mind after vicious beating hurts. Hands and legs after putting on airs and being taken easy on when disciplined hurts. Frozen and shattered fingers, ankles hurts. Licked eyeball feels disgusting and hurts. Wrists freed from handcuffs frozen and broken hurts. Falling to knees on ground completely congealed, everything creaked and hurts. Body shoved away by a perturbed Otto hurts. Unsightliness trying to escape the White Whale after that hurts. Soul amidst being frozen in zenith cold hurts. Thread of life running amok to convince an assisted suicide hurts. Chest assailed for the sake of assisted suicide hurts. Heart grabbed upon confessing Return by Death hurts. Being grabbed by tenacious pursuit of the Authority of Sloth hurts. Stabbing own throat for fear of losing Rem hurts. Abdomen disemboweled for the first time in months hurts. Entire body struck by debris, arms mangled up, finally body being devoured from inside hurts. Toyed with by ferocious beast, entire body bitten to shreds again hurts. Finally, stabbing own throat again, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

Petra: [――ugh.]

“Subaru”: [Petra! Petra! That’s no good, don’t give in, Petra!!]

The entirety of the mind was dominated by pain. Even though the inside of the body, the inside of the mind, the inside of the heart, were all supposed to be filled to the brim with ■■■, the pain eclipsed everything entirely.

From the top of the head to the tips of the toes, there was no place within the body that was not feeling pain. All throughout this being, the entirety of what shaped the self transformed into pain, in order to make the self experience pain, by constructing the pain, the pain pained, and the paining painpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpainpaininininin――.

Petra: [――egh.]

Vision stained bright red, their own incredibly noisy voice seemed to ring like tinnitus, a sharp scent of blood deep in the nose, drool spilling from within the mouth with the taste of death, the shock causing an unbearable level of goosebumps on all the skin of the body.

Once again, the torment of ■■■・■■■ that had failed to truly be understood by merely having read the Book of the Dead, was clearly steeped into ■■■・■■■ as well. Through that pain, ■■■・■■■ gained a painful understanding of ■■■・■■■, in the truest, most literal sense.

As the pain blotted over both the inside and outside of ■■■・■■■ entirely, deep down, a painful understanding.

Petra: [――ogh.]

A painful understanding, that the entirety of pain endured, was linked to ■■■・■■■’s, to Na■■・■ba■’s, to Na■ki・Suba■’s―― to Natsuki Subaru’s memories of repentance accompanied by sublime feelings of loss.

Petra: [――――]

It had hurt. Letting Emilia die. It had hurt. Letting Felt die. It had hurt. Letting Rom-jii die. It had hurt. Letting Rem die. It had hurt. Letting everyone in Arlam Village die. It had hurt. Letting Ram die. It had hurt. Letting Frederica die. It had hurt. Letting Petra die. It had hurt. Letting Beatrice die. It had hurt. Letting Otto die. It had hurt. Letting Roswaal die. It had hurt. Letting Ryuzu die. It had hurt. Letting Garfiel die. It had hurt. It had hurt. It had hurt. ――Utmost vexation.

Petra: [Vexing.]

It hurts. It hurts it hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts. ――Why was that?

Petra: [Don’t want to lose.]

Even if it hurt, even if it was painful, it was far better than sorrow and vexation.

Love everyone, so will not give up on anyone. Love you, who loving everyone, would not give up on anyone, so will not give up on you.

Hence――,

Petra: [――Just who, do you think I am?]

■■■・■■■ was, ■■ra・■y■ was, Pe■ra・■yte was―― Petra Leyte was a bundle of potential, rich with talent and quick to learn, harboring great promise, with a bright future ahead of her.

That person, those people, all believed that about Petra. ――Then, she would do so.

Petra: [Can do it.]

It ought to be possible for you, Petra Leyte.

I won’t let everyone who told me that I could do it become liars, after all.

Or perhaps, were they all just liars who believed in a weak, pitiful Petra who could not do anything?

Petra: [There’s no way, it could be that.]

It’s possible. It ought to be possible. If it’s possible, then stop being all talk and do it. Do it. Just do it. You can do it. Do it now. Do it right this instant. NOW! Come on, do it, do it―― JUST DO IT!!

Petra: [Compression… no.]

By means of the power of the Authority of Tristitia, Compression would be invoked.

Just as distance, traversal time, thinking time, and discussion time had all been Compressed, right now, on the dreadful instant that had befallen Petra and the rest, Compression would be invoked.

Pain, oh what a dreadful thing it was.

Even a slight amount of pain would cause one to get teary-eyed; when it turned to a matter of pain that was a bit sharper, one would become unable to sleep at night; when it came to having an abundance of dull pains, it might very well have sway over the rest of one’s life to follow.

Be it slight, sharp, or dull, the time in which pain was experienced, would always feel long and drawn out.

On the time that would make a second feel like ten, an hour feel like twelve, and a day feel like an eternity, Compression would be invoked.

Petra: [Everyone, get ready to grit your teeth.]

“Subaru”: [Hk, it’ll be over in a second, but it’ll hurt a hundred times more――!!]

That it might be ten-thousand times more, he did not tell her.

Regardless if he did, regardless if her heart was ready for it, the fact of her doing it would not have changed, after all.

Petra: [――『Compress Agony』.]

The power of the Witch of Tristitia, ascended to a brand new stage, was unveiled.

△▼△▼△▼△

――God, Buddha, Od Lagna. For as long as I live, I hereby vow to never lament parting with another.

△▼△▼△▼△

Roy: [――――]

The new art he had debuted erupted unerringly, fissuring the flawless coordination of the herd of prey.

Whilst his ears hearkened the wind’s rumble as the Black Serpent’s body flopped forward, contrived with befoulment abound with toxic blight, a varicolored pandemonium of screams, screeches, and wails reached him from the other side.

All of it seemed so aching, so agonizing that if Roy had been conferred the time, he would have wept through the whole night thinking of them the utmost, then inscribed those feelings into verses of poetry, and set them adrift atop a river.

Time for that he had not, however. Neither did he have the erudition to compose poetry, so it would not have been of any decent makings.

But, it was the truth that he thought of them with compassion. He bore no begrudgement toward them. Nothing akin to hatred either. Not even an intermixed blend of love and hate, all he felt was nothing but, simply, love.

Who would ever want to see anything such as the figures of their loved articles wailing in agony? That would be nothing more than spice for when their lives were surfeited. Spice was not staple food. To set it as the main dish was the deed of an aberrant.

Roy: [We… will not commit such a terrible act, you know.]

In the wake of Eclipse Binaries, which sparked a chain reaction of Memories of Agony, the herd of prey’s ability to mobilize had been ruptured. [2]

All that remained was the downpour of the Black Serpent’s befoulment―― this particular head was charged with representing Elder’s Blight, so it would not go so far as to rob them of their lives. It would occlude their thinking and mobility, restraining them on the precipice of mortality in perpetuum. Should that happen, the rest would be like a wine cellar. Until the time of drinking when their true names were brought to light arrived, he shall await their time of ripening and fermentation.

He had heard that the precipice where they would be restrained offered no refuge, anguish and darkness lasted unceasing, but in the end, the pain and affliction they shall taste would settle within Roy and vanish, so it was fine. Tasting such bitterness, licking it to finish, and surfeiting himself with it too was yet eathos.

Roy: [A~h, even though they can’t be eaten immediately, looking at ripened fruits is so――]

Painful, as he about uttered so, Roy’s words were interrupted.

There was no counterattack. If anything, it was the opposite. The herd of prey bellowed a bitter, chest-stabbing screech on a higher order of magnitude in both intensity and volume. They held a sonorousness that could understandably be perceived as death wails.

Roy widened his eyes for a moment, but it progressively indicated the success of his plan――,

Felt: [――LiiAAARGH! LIVEEE!!]

Everyone: [STROOooNG――!!]

The subsequent instant, fathomless response and unity defied the inevitable demise that should have swallowed the herd of prey.

△▼△▼△▼△

――God, Buddha, Od Lagna. For as long as I live, I hereby vow to never walk into the sunset with another.

△▼△▼△▼△

That instant, a sensation as if all the skin on her body being peeled off, followed by Reinhard scrubbing her flayed body with a metal brush steeped in ample amounts of salt water, assailed Felt as a hellish pain.

Felt: [eeUGHh…]

For the first time in her life, the pain she experienced was so intense that it felt like her insides were twisting themselves inside out. A paralysis crept through the corner of her mind, and she even hallucinated a sensation of her blood flowing backwards in her veins.

Exactly what had just happened, she did not know. ――No, she understood. Petra had done something.

Felt: [That pipsqueak’s quite impressive…]

And so, Felt quietly praised the strenuous efforts of the girl, who was nearly the same height as her.

From the discussions that had been squeezed tight with absurd momentum up until this point, she knew that Petra had coordinated brilliantly with Rom-jii to establish the Combined Forces. This was an incredible feat. After all, Rom-jii was the wisest and most reliable man in the world, so Petra must have been nothing short of a genius.

And, that genius had done something beyond imagination, in order to land a crushing blow on the something that the opponent had done.

Felt: [Even still, you’ve really got some damn terrible luck, you know that?]

Cheeks contorting as she spoke, Felt caught sight of a small shadow in the corner of her eye―― Camberley.

Unlike Gaston, who had been in the fight since the beginning, or Rachins, who had joined the fray midway through, Camberley had made his grand entrance at the most critical moment. ――But at that exact instant, the unimaginable pain had been unleashed upon them, so calling it terrible luck would have been a gross understatement.

However――,

Felt: [――You’ve got terrible luck, but you’re the best.]

With tears streaming from the corners of his eyes, that which Camberley had carried here in his hands, was now snatched away by Felt. ――Something of a trump card of their Camp: the Star Staff.

She would fire it. With every fiber of her being, every ounce of strength she could scrape together, Felt would give it everything she had.

All that remained――,

Felt: [Is finding an opening to fire it!]

△▼△▼△▼△

――God, Buddha, Od Lagna. For as long as I live, I hereby vow to never tread upon the shadow of one who walks beside me.

△▼△▼△▼△

Felt: [――LiiAAARGH! LIVEEE!!]

Everyone: [STROOooNG――!!]

An exclamation that rendered imperceivable which exactly was the warcry of a Witchbeast, the roar pulsated, and the Black Serpent’s body, analogous to a thousand calamities baled together, was jostled backward by the shock wave immediately below it.

Raging across the battlefield with a vehement torrent of light and dark, the heaven-rending impact broiled Roy’s entire body with astonishment.

What had occurred? What did they do? ――All of it, he questioned not.

Roy: [Petra-cha~n-!]

With only the identity of who did it certain, Roy Alphard reached zenith.

It was an amazing thing to accomplish. Ovation and a round of applause. Becoming one with the multitudes of the crowds of Memories within Roy, he must bid them thunderous applause.

Just how much sacrifice of oneself would it take, to make the Witch Factor of Tristitia do that.

By any measure of imagination or surmise, the ordinary, average kind of happiness in all of its forms would have to be parted with, or it would not be possible to materialize this battlefield, this close of a skirmish, this extent of outrageous insolence, would it.

――Want to become happy.

That was bound to be the unconditionally imperishable, fixed and indivisible wish, as a human being.

It was bound to be an unconditionally absolute prayer, no different even for Roy―― no, even for Ley and even for Louis, even for the Sin Archbishops, even for evildoers and even for criminals.

Living and continue to live, for that purpose. But, lest it be parted with, this battlefield shall not――.

Roy: [――――]

Pupils bedewed with delight, drying them with a single blink of his eyelids, Roy looked upon Felt who had snatched a white staff from the hands of her comrade.

Since the dwarf, who did not seem to be any war potential for the most part, had gone out of his way to bring it here at this eleventh hour, unmistakably meant that it was a special, secret weapon.

In other words――,

Roy: [If that won’t do then will you start cry~ing!?]

Rainbow-hued butterflies danced, spears of fire and ice rained, titanic scythes of blood from multifarious directions were fired, a pressure that crushed everything not from left to right but from the rear to the front precipitated, and a soprano befitting of a young boy cursedly resonated in song.

Rom: [Protect Felt!!]

Wind sundered the butterflies altogether, magic bullets of ice and fire shattered the spears of fire and ice, burly muscles intercepted the titanic scythe of blood through lacerations received, a momentary twin impact perforated the ground, surging from the rear to the front, and the enormous builds of the aged man and the pigman shielded against the curse ballad that disintegrated flesh and blood.

Roy: [Magnifice~nt! Bu~t――]

His wavelike onslaught blocked by the bastion of coordination, Roy however did not lose heart.

Invoking the Teleport he had restrained from utilizing until now, Roy’s silhouette appeared at the heart of Felt’s troupe in the blink of an eye, his aim being Felt―― naught, instead,

Roy: [The two over here are also pivotal, ri~ght?]

Within the personnel braced to intercept, he aimed for the spines of the two bereft of energy to stand up.

The Witch of Tristitia and Witchbeast Master, both of them war potential essential for the opposing contingent to rival Gluttony and the Black Serpent in battle, and nobody’s hand shall timely reach Roy who stood right behind them.

Licking his lips, Roy hosted the Fist King in his right hand and the Snow Vallum in his left, and with tender kindness――,

――That moment, Meili’s hair wriggled and crawled, and a corona was shot through Roy’s left eye.

Roy: [Kyau-!?]

Impaled by a sensation of scorching heat, the left side of Roy’s perception vanished. Just what was this, Roy bared his remnant eye and in his vision entered the virtuoso that had crushed his left eye―― a little scorpion lurking in concealment within Meili’s hair was reflected therein.

A being unknown to him. A trump card absent in Memories, a face down card, viva fight to the finish.

Roy: [Even a tiny ally like that――]

Is gallantly devoting its might, was how he was to resume, but did not.

Hastier than that, the ground upon which Roy’s legs were braced double-crossed him, rocketing him into the sky without omen.

Roy: [――――]

Magic, it was not. Nowhere could the wavelength of Mana be perceived.

Then, was it the Witch of Tristitia once more? ――Nay, not even she fostered eyes on the back of her head.

What had transpired was an eminence protruding from the ground. With nary an omen or prior signal, did that burgeon.

???: [――Good grief, my amazin’ self’s comrades’re way too damn reliable.]

That which had beat upon his eardrums all too suddenly was a sharp voice, an exceedingly common recollection in his Memories.

By the soles of their feet did they achieve concert with the earth, such that during the intervals whilst they were planted firm upon the ground, steeled that person would become as though an iron keep, unfellable to all who sought its conquest; precisely because of being so dependable, the bark of their timbre ought not to have been heard.

Whirling up into the air, stretched out amidst Roy’s vision upside-down was the earthy landscape where the Witchbeast of Pestilence writhed, and thereupon would he set it to wreak havoc.

Unlike before, a distance had now emerged between it and Roy. Albeit his armor of blood was beginning to shed, were the befoulment to be spattered out like a shower of rain, the herd of prey would have to divert their efforts towards countering that.

???: [Sit down!!]

For but a moment, the Black Serpent’s movements were thrown into disarray by the weeping outcry.

But, the duration of its stoppage amounted not to even the blink of an eye. Even if it had been deprived of that interval, that would never amount to Roy’s machinations falling out of―― that instant, the serpentine form of the Witchbeast, whilst seeking to reach skyward as though a spire piercing the heavens, ruptured.

Rupturing, its befoulment spilled out from within, and onto that besmirched ground did a lone silhouette tumble down.

???: [Pwahhk-, ghehough, gahoggahhk-…]

Roy: [You’re kiddi~ng.]

Violently coughing, the red-haired man who had fallen into a pool of the most abhorrent befoulment in this world, delivered unto Roy an impact that could not be explained by simple tenacity or a pathetic adhesion to life, leaving him lost for words.

For what reason, was he alive? The question, and the appetite welling up, made Roy’s stomach growl unwittingly.

???: [Yo, look th’ fuck over here.]

With an effortless leap, the golden-haired boy caught up to the airborne Roy, and gnashing his sharp fangs, he raised aloft one of his fists clad in silver gauntlets in a grandiose hoist.

Should those smite him, the half-killed status Roy would be left in would strip him of standing any chance.

Despite knowing it would only amount to stalling for a few moments and naught more, from his choices of withdrawing to refuge, Roy sought to follow suit of the odd talent of the Leaper and invoked Lunar Eclipse,

Roy: [Bgh.]

――Zodda bugs cannoned into him from the blind spot on his left, disrupting his focus.

Roy: [――――]

Upon allowing his line of sight to be lured by the irksome buzz and abhorrent texture, laying ahead, tens of meters distant were trees onto which a light blue ground dragon had been latched, and with his body entrusted to it, was the silhouette of a man supposed to be hollowed empty.

The man pointed his finger in this direction, and upon noticing their gazes cross, smiled. Transmitting to him, “You have been bested”.

The subsequent juncture, the wind howled, and a fist bedizened with wind pressure blitzed straight towards Roy.

It was awfully slow, seeming like it would take some time before it reached―― when he noticed.

Roy: [This, is Petra-chan’s doing, is that what it means?]

Petra: [Yes. Thought I’d properly say it at the end. That it serves you right.]

Feet stationed atop the ground, the Witch of Tristitia proclaimed triumph to Roy in the time that she protracted.

There no longer seemed to be anything that Roy could do, pertaining to that. Also, the fist strike of the ravenous, raging tiger had drawn imminent to about a distance the size of five coins away from him.

In the time until that direct hit, what was there that he could do? He ruminated, and it occurred to him.

Roy: [It’s an amazingly, amazingly big deal, Petra-chan. But you kno~w, weren’t the sacrifices you made to win just too big?]

Petra: [Making excuses like a sore loser? Nobody’s been taken down on our side. Just so pathetic for a Sin Archbishop.]

Roy: [With the Witch of Tristitia as the opponent, would lose face. But, what’s called a sacrifice doesn’t apply to lives alone. The future, the hopes, the possibilities, it’s those kinds of things. We are worried from the bottom of our heart that Petra-chan’s long, long life hereon out will become so lonely, you see~.]

Four coins away.

At the very least, to dredge out the compensations albeit her wish to hide them, and engrave oneself into her through that agony.

Such was Roy’s unscrupulous eathos, to which Petra fluttered her eyes and put on a puzzled face. It couldn’t be, surely she had not paid them without realizing, whilst these thoughts dwelled, this reaction was――,

Petra: [――Could it be, you’re misunderstanding?]

Roy: [Misunderstanding?]

Petra: [That’s strange. I’d thought Otto-san would likely say something like it. ――That this time, the entire world is your enemy, that sorta thing.]

Roy: [――――]

Three coins away.

He had not been told so, firsthand. However, such ardor was extant in Memories.

Considering Aldebaran’s deeds and the devastation he perpetrated, this cognizance could be called just and legitimate. However, that ought to be something with no greater or lesser purport.

Roy: [It can’t be…]

Petra: [It is.]

Two coins away.

Within the confines of the sensation of protraction, it was impracticable to commit an act so extravagant as gulping a breath, but in the throat of his heart Roy gulped a breath of his heart, and looked at she who smiled as it befit a Witch, tenderly.

The young girl supposed to be incompatible with the Witch Factor, however, was beyond question the Witch of Tristitia.

After all――,

Petra: [The Witch Factor of Tristitia, can be used by anyone should they pay compensation, and if the compensations are properly harmonized, anyone can act as the agent. ――So, it’s being paid together with everyone in the Royal Capital.]

Roy: [――――]

Petra: [Well then, I’ll say it one more time. ――Serves you right.]

One coin away.

After all, unbeknownst to Roy was any being who had abused the Witch Factor of Tristitia to this degree.

If this were not the Witch of Tristitia, then what could it possibly be.

Roy: [――A~h, thank you for the treat-.]

Zero coins away. ――Gorgeous Tiger’s thunderbolt exploded.

Roy: [――――]

It mercilessly shattered into Roy’s countenance, knocking it down toward the ground where the Black Serpent writhed. His petite frame plunged right towards the core of the befoulment―― just before that.

Felt: [――Fire!!]

Felt roared, and the staff scintillating in her grip fired a corona that washed the world with its paint of alabaster white.

It altered into a smite of judgment, without err and escape forbidden, swallowing ones who were auxiliaries of malefaction and atrocity.

――So was the denouement, of the eathos of Bizarre Eating.

 

Translation Notes:

[1] “Eathos” is a wordplay on ‘eat’ and ‘ethos’, to reflect the author’s wordplay of altering 生活 (way of life/ethos) into 食活 (replacing the ‘life’ component of the word with 食, indicating ‘eating’ or ‘food’). It is not an existing term in Japanese but the author’s creative discretion. We interpret this as being to both Roy’s general way of living his life, as well as the entirety of the live he has lived, not truly “living”, but rather, a life entirely defined through “eating”.

[2] “Eclipse Binaries” (蝕連星 – ‘shokurensei’, lit. Eclipse Binary Stars) may also be a nod to the Pleiades (六連星 – ‘rokurensei’).