"They're gone…? How? There wasn't a single path out of that alley I wasn't watching."
Kuna muttered the words to herself, her grip tightening on her bow as she stood at the edge of the roof. She lowered the weapon, her face pulling into a grimace of pure disbelief.
She had failed. They all had. For the Shudraq—warriors who built their lives on the hunt—losing a trail this clean was a stain on their pride. It was one thing to lose a few Imperial soldiers, but Abel had been clear about how dangerous those men were.
To let them slip away was a disaster. To let them take General Arakiya with them was a catastrophe.
A captive of that caliber was a king-maker; she could have turned the tide of the entire revolution if they'd managed to turn her. Now, the leverage was gone. Kuna looked down at the empty street, the silence of the city mocking her.
It was a total, undisputed failure.
Subaru pushed himself up from the rubble, his breath hitching as he patted his stomach to check for any new holes.
"So that's what a serious hit from him feels like... he calls it 'Blue,' I think."
He let out a long, ragged groan, leaning back against a broken pillar.
"Haahh... that might've taken my top half off if he wasn't stuck in that shota form! Thank the stars for the sudden regression, I guess."
Subaru gestured vaguely to the empty air, tossing out a joke that nobody in this world would ever understand.
"A-Ah——"
He looked down as a small weight slammed into his waist. Louis clung to him, burying her face into his outfit and sobbing.
Subaru's eyes softened, his hand instinctively dropping to her shoulder to steady her.
"Hey... I'm fine. Don't cry. Seriously," he said, trying to force a bit of his usual energy. "Do you know how tough you have to be to stand back up after a hit from Gojo-sensei?"
"U-Uaaa..."
She didn't look comforted, but Subaru kept the kind smile on his face. He remembered who she had been before this, but looking at her now, he didn't see an Archbishop.
——He just saw a terrified kid.
"Sorry for scaring you, Louis…"
He muttered , crouching down to her level.
"I'll make sure Gojo-sensei lets you get a few punches in for me once we get his head sorted out. Deal?"
"Uaa..."
Subaru nodded, though he had no idea what she was trying to say.
He looked over at Abel, who was standing nearby, remarkably unscathed given the carnage in the room.
"So, how did you do it?"
Subaru asked, his voice turning serious as he approached.
"——How did you get him to retreat?"
Abel glanced at Subaru from behind his mask, his posture stiff.
"I told him the truth. You will find that words are often the most lethal weapon in an arsenal. You would do well to remember that."
"Heh... well, I'm just glad we're all still breathing…"
Subaru sighed, glancing toward Priscilla.
She wasn't taking her injury lightly——not that he could blame her. She'd been hit with enough force to level a building... though, it did seem like she was more angered than actually in pain, if anything.
Al was still out cold, though he seemed mostly intact.
"Is it really that hard to ask if she's okay?"
Subaru muttered, directed at Abel's cold silence.
Abel's eyes snapped back to him.
"You misunderstand the situation. Regardless of trivialties, your teacher was not the man you described."
Subaru shook his head, shrugging.
"Look, he lost his memories. He's acting weird, sure. Maybe we just pissed him off by knocking him out earlier."
"I don't believe so… the more likely cause is simpler. He is afraid of something."
Subaru tilted his head, a skeptical laugh bubbling up.
"Afraid? Him? You've got the wrong guy, Abel. Fear isn't really in his vocabulary."
Abel's eyes narrowed beneath the mask.
"I wonder about that..."
——————————————————————————————
The vow he'd made to his fallen friend amidst the blood and heat of that final battle—to see the world through kinder eyes—no longer felt like a noble mission. It felt like a leaden shroud, a heavy, suffocating weight he was forced to drag through the dirt of a world that didn't want him.
It was all just so... exhausting.
Protecting them wouldn't change the fundamental rot of the world. But as the static of his own self-loathing surged, a whisper cut through the noise.
"Protect weaklings, Satoru."
Suguru's voice. Clear. Unyielding. Like a ghost standing just behind his shoulder.
"That's why we have these powers."
Gojo's teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. His cursed energy pulsed—not with the clean, sharp edge of battle, but with a jagged, desperate resolve. The decision was already made, not because he believed in it, but because he was a slave to a memory he couldn't let die.
Because saving them? That's what Suguru Geto would have wanted. And if he wasn't doing what Suguru wanted, then who was he?
——————————————————————————————
"You speak with a great deal of confidence for a failure," Priscilla's voice rang out, dripping with the casual cruelty of the divine.
"Failure?"
"Yes, jester—a failure. Word of your dismal performance in Priestella has reached even my ears. I take it you are here merely to mitigate another such loss? Do you truly believe that simply forgetting and moving on is the wisest course?"
"———"
"Your performance was so poor, so utterly lacking, that you would rather shed your very history. To forget entirely and start anew as a child... how convenient. Such a regression is truly befitting of your character."
"Mind your words, lady... You don't know the first thing about me."
"Evidently so, considering I was generous enough to overestimate you. I know more than enough now, Satoru Gojo. You are arrogant, immature, and utterly foolish... especially to think you could challenge mineself for the throne of Lugunica. Before, your jests were somewhat entertaining. Now? Your very presence is an eyesore."
——————————————————————————————
He wanted to deny it all. He wanted to laugh it off, to flash that signature cocky grin and render all of those words meaningless. But his facial muscles wouldn't obey.
He couldn't deny it——because every word spoken was the undeniable truth.
He refused to acknowledge this world because he was terrified of it.
He loathed the people who revered him because their expectations were a cage.
—He wasn't the "Strongest."
—He never had been.
Satoru Gojo was nothing more than a revolting, hypocritical coward.
A pathetic teenager wearing the face of a child while pretending to do good deeds to hide from the blood on his hands.
——————————————————————————————
"I'm here to end this mess before the whole country devolves into a civil war! Do I really need a better reason than that?"
"Refusing to face your past—fleeing from it because it is convenient to forget—is the pinnacle of cowardice,"Abel's voice interjected, cold and clinical."Natsuki Subaru spoke of you with reverence. I find myself unconvinced."
"You call it cowardice? This world has treated me like garbage from the second I woke up! Why should I care about any of this?"
"You claim to save the innocent, yet you are a complete and utter hypocrite."
"What did you say?"
"Need I say more?"
Abel gestured to the carnage—the broken walls and the bleeding allies.
"You speak of saving thousands, yet you crush those who would help you. You do not fight for the innocent, Satoru Gojo. You fight because you are terrified of being anything less than a god."
——————————————————————————————
The truth was a vacuum, sucking the air out of his lungs.
He was worse than trash because he could neither change nor deny what he had become.
He was worse than trash because, even to himself, he was a liar.
He was the biggest, most pathetic person in this entire world——because he downright refuses to follow the wishes of his dead best friend.
Gojo pressed a hand hard against his face, his fingers digging into his skin as the carriage jolted over a stray root. Each bump in the road felt like a physical extension of the turbulence in his mind.
His thoughts drifted, unwillingly, back to Natsuki Subaru.
A man who was objectively, laughably weaker than him. A man who possessed neither the Six Eyes nor the Limitless, or even a Cursed Technique in general, and yet...
He is far stronger than me.
The realization was a jagged shard of glass in Gojo's throat.
Subaru didn't have a god's power to hide behind, yet he stood his ground.
He didn't have the luxury of forgetting his failures, yet he carried them forward.
Subaru was a man who embraced the dirt and the blood, while Gojo was a boy who had built a wall of infinity just to keep the world from touching his heart.
Because... because that was...
That was true strength. And what Gojo possessed was——
"——ARGH! Do you mind?! Jeez!"
The internal monologue shattered. Gojo's eyes snapped wide, his hand dropping from his face as he yelled and glared at the source of the noise.
Arakiya was sitting right beside him, her face pulled into a scowl of pure irritation.
She had been shifting in her seat, seemingly caught in the middle of a sharp movement—or perhaps she had finally reached her limit with the stifling atmosphere of the carriage.
Opposite them, Todd and Jamal sat like statues.
Todd's lips were pressed into a thin, white line, his gaze darting between Satoru and Arakiya with the look of a man sitting on a crate of highly unstable explosives.
Jamal simply looked as though he was holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
Gojo and Arakiya glared at one another, two forces of nature compressed into a tiny space, their mutual irritation nearing a violent breaking point.
Before the first spark could ignite, Todd broke the silence.
"You seemed to be... deep in thought, Gojo-san, reflecting on the fallout in Guaral, perhaps?"
The tension broke, if only slightly.
Gojo pulled back from Arakiya, his lips curling into a weary roll of his eyes as he shifted his attention to the orange-haired soldier sitting opposite him.
He leaned his head against the rattling wall of the carriage, his posture a mixture of boredom and exhaustion.
"Something like that, I guess..." Gojo muttered.
He didn't look at Todd directly, his gaze drifting toward the passing blur of the world outside.
"It's heavy, isn't it? The whole world wanting a piece of you..."
Todd said, his voice dropping into a low, comforting register.
"I can't imagine that mess back there was easy. My advice? Don't overthink it. That masked man... he was likely a politician, through and through. Men like that don't see people, Gojo-san. They see tools to be swung until they break."
"Heh, ain't that the truth..." Jamal cackled. "The higher the rank, the smaller you look to 'em."
"Haaah... maybe so," Gojo muttered. "Doesn't make the headache any less annoying, though."
He shrugged, the movement looking small on his childish frame, and slid down in his seat. He pulled his blindfold tighter——a physical barrier against a world that demanded too much of his Six Eyes—and let his chin sink toward his chest.
"I'm not going back to that palace for a while, that's for sure. Not after today's disaster. The thought of hearing that old bastard yammer on about 'duty'... I think I'd actually die of boredom."
Todd tilted his head, his hand migrating to his chin in a gesture of pensive calculation. He leaned forward, the shadows of the carriage dancing across his orange hair.
"Why not simply go back and end it?"
Todd asked, his voice deceptively casual.
"With both you and General First-Class Arakiya fighting under the same banner, the revolution wouldn't be a war. It would be an execution. You could sleep in a proper bed by tomorrow night."
Gojo's eyes snapped open beneath the fabric of his blindfold. He sat bolt upright, the casual slump vanishing in an instant.
"First of all..."
Gojo began, gesturing sharply toward the scowling woman beside him.
"I'd rather swallow a bucket of glass than fight alongside her."
"——The feeling is entirely mutual, you stupid little child!" Arakiya spat.
"Heh, how rude~! But anyway, second of all... I could retake that fortress on my own before breakfast if I reaaaally wanted to..."
Todd raised an eyebrow, his gaze curious.
"Then why don't you? You'd be stopping the chaos before it even starts. You'd be the savior of Vollachia, you'd have ended what's no doubt bound to become a civil war very soon."
Silence descended on the carriage, save for the rhythmic sound of of the wheels on the dirt road.
Gojo didn't answer.
He turned his head away, looking through his blindfold at the blur of trees passing by.
Todd watched him, searching for a tactical opening, but found only a wall of silence. He chalked it up to some strange, stubborn strain of childish pride——or perhaps something deeper, a fear that even this overpowered child couldn't vocalize.
Todd's eyes didn't leave the slight tremor in Gojo's small, pale hands.
He was looking for the god who had seemed to warp space to save himself and Jamal, but all he saw was a boy whose knuckles were white from gripping his own knees.
"I suppose that's how it'll be, then..." Todd sighed.
Todd looked away, his eyes narrowing just enough to catch a flicker of doubt in the kid's posture.
He'd found it.
The white-haired brat wasn't untouchable——at least, not in his head.
There was a crack in the armor, a psychological hitch that made him hesitate.
In the Empire, a man with a guilty conscience was a man you could lead by a leash, provided you knew which ghost was pulling the strings.
It was an opportunity.
Todd leaned his head back against the carriage wall, the wheels thudding beneath him. He didn't smile—that would be a tell—but he memorized the way Gojo's hands shook.
He had a new variable for his equations, and in a war of monsters, that was worth more than a battalion.
Todd stared out at the passing trees, his mind already moving past the terror of the City Hall.
The fact that Satoru Gojo had saved his life was an irrelevant detail, a footnote in a larger report.
Todd had risked his neck more times in the last twenty-four hours than he had in the previous year. For a man who lived by the rule of avoiding unnecessary gambles, he was deep in the red.
But he was breathing. And more importantly, he was thinking.
He glanced at the two powerhouses sharing the cramped space. On one side, a Divine General.
On the other, a child who functioned like a force of nature.
In the chaos of a civil war, there was no better insurance policy.
If he could find a way to point them in the right direction, he wouldn't just be a survivor——he'd be the safest man in the Empire.
——————————————————————————————
Todd stepped out from the back of the carriage, the familiar, rigid air of the Imperial Capital, Lupugana, hitting him instantly.
He glanced toward the Crystal Palace looming in the distance, then turned back to the others.
"Alright, Jamal. You know the drill. Let's just hope whatever orders we're assigned aren't a total headache."
Jamal rolled his eyes, stepping onto the pavement with a heavy thud of his boots.
"Speak for yourself. A loyal soldier does what he's told without whining."
Todd shrugged. He respected Jamal's sword arm, but the man's biggest flaws—right next to his lack of brains—were his blind loyalty and a death wish.
"General Arakiya——"
Todd said, shifting his tone to something more respectful.
He didn't fully understand the woman yet, and he had no desire to find out what it felt like to be incinerated for a slip of the tongue.
"——Will you be coming with us?"
"Alright." Arakiya nodded.
She stepped forward, her movements predatory even when she was exhausted. From what Todd could gather, she wasn't much for thinking, but her sheer power meant she didn't have to be.
"And you, Gojo-san? What's your plan?"
He looked down at the white-haired child. The boy stood with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking less like a warrior and more like a bored tourist.
"Nah. That place totally sucks~ the people there are even worse too. I'll just do some sightseeing until you're done, I guess."
Todd didn't argue. He wasn't the type to underestimate a threat based on its size, and a child who could walk away from a fight with Arakiya without a scratch was the biggest threat in the city.
But as Gojo turned his head, Todd saw it again. It was a flicker——a momentary lapse in that smug, arrogant mask.
The kid was afraid. Not of the Empire, and not of the war. He was afraid of something internal. And Todd was a man who knew exactly how to use fear as a lever.
"I understand. We'll see you later then, Gojo-san."
Gojo gave a dismissive shrug and walked off toward the main thoroughfare.
Todd watched him for a beat before signaling to Jamal and Arakiya. They had a meeting with Berstetz, and the old man wasn't fond of waiting.
As they walked away, Gojo's voice drifted back over his shoulder.
"Mmm. I say that, but there's really not a whole lot to do in this dump..."
Gojo wandered the streets of Lupugana with a slow, dragging pace. To anyone passing by, he was just a strangely dressed child lost in the crowd.
But the city felt suffocating. The Six Eyes fed him a constant, unwanted stream of data—the rhythmic clatter of boots, the smell of heavy spices from the upper districts, and the jagged mana of the knights patrolling the perimeter. Lupugana was a city built on absolute order. It felt like a cage designed by people who took themselves too seriously.
He stopped at a stall, staring blankly at a row of candied fruits. He reached for his pocket, then remembered he didn't have a single coin.
"Jeez. Being a kid is a real step down financially... I guess I was broke before this, too."
He turned a corner into a quiet plaza, where the shadows of the tall buildings stretched out over the cobblestones.
That was when he saw him.
A young man sat on the edge of a dried-up fountain. He had grey hair and grey eyes, dressed in an oversized dark robe with a white-striped, purple undershirt peeking out. He looked entirely unremarkable, yet entirely out of place.
Gojo stopped. His Six Eyes flared behind the blindfold, processing the shifting mana around the stranger. He wasn't a soldier, and he wasn't a commoner. He just sat there with a strange, detached air, like a leaf stuck in a whirlpool, completely unbothered by the spinning.
"You're a long way from home, aren't you?"
The man didn't look up, but his voice carried perfectly across the plaza——light and conversational.
Gojo tilted his head, the old, arrogant smirk sliding back into place.
"And you're a long way from a circus. Who are you supposed to be? The Capital's welcome wagon?"
The man finally raised his head. His eyes were wide and vacant, yet they seemed to look right through the fabric over Gojo's face.
"My name isn't really important, in all honesty…" he said, offering a mild, almost dopey smile. "You likely won't be seeing me again after this, assuming our conversation goes well."
Gojo's brows furrowed.
"…What are you saying?"
"Heh, don't worry, don't worry," the man waved a hand lazily. "Now, onto the topic of interest… you are the reason the sky has been so restless lately. Satoru Gojo."
Gojo's smirk stiffened. He hadn't told anyone in this city his name yet.
"Word travels fast, I guess. Or did a little bird tell you?"
"The stars don't need birds to carry their messages," he replied, his tone remaining infuriatingly casual. "I've been looking for you. Or rather, I've been looking for the version of you that hasn't entirely snapped yet."
Gojo took a step forward, the air around him dropping a few degrees.
"Snapped? I'm doing just fine, pal. Maybe worry about your own wardrobe before you start diagnosing me."
"——Ouch! How rude!"
He laughed, standing up. He walked a slow circle around Gojo, peering at him from different angles like he was inspecting a strange piece of fruit.
"You're hiding. You stuffed what you can't remember into a box and locked it. You think if you play dumb and avoid the people who revere you, the world will leave you alone."
The young man stopped directly in front of him, his vacant eyes locking onto the blindfold.
"But the stars say otherwise. They say you're a disaster waiting for a reason to happen."
The humor died in Gojo's eyes. The plaza felt colder.
"You've got a big mouth for someone standing in my range. Do you have no sense of danger?"
"Threats are just a distraction," the young man sighed, shaking his head. "You're not here to sightsee, Satoru. You're here because you're hoping that if you walk far enough, you'll finally outrun the person you used to be."
The young man leaned in, the dopey smile never leaving his face.
"But tell me... if you finally forget everything, what's left? Just a hollow boy with the power to end a world he doesn't even want to be in?"
Gojo's frown deepened. He found himself leaning away, an uncomfortable tightness gripping his chest.
"Who are you…? How do you——"
"——If you keep turning away from who you were, the 'You' that remains will eventually break completely."
The man cut him off casually, as if discussing the weather.
"I'm saving people! That's why I'm doing this!"
Gojo snapped, the sudden volume of his own voice surprising him.
The young man leaned back, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"The stars say you lie, Satoru Gojo. A hero who is terrified of the people he saves because he knows he doesn't actually care about them isn't a hero. He's a coward. And you... you only care about keeping a ghost happy."
"How do you——"
"It's a dangerous lie…" the young man continued, his voice losing a fraction of its dopey lightness. "You're using your fallen friend's words as a mask because you're terrified of what's underneath. You think ignoring your past means you've escaped it. But you haven't. You've just left it behind to rot."
Gojo closed his eyes. Anger and fear knotted in his gut.
He couldn't just blast this weak, strange man away. He couldn't silence him. Because, beneath the annoyance, he knew the Stargazer was just reading his pulse.
"But… what if I said a coward isn't what you have to be?" he asked, his smile thinning slightly. "I know it's easier to play 'Hero' when you don't have to answer for your failures… but that won't end well for anyone, least of all yourself."
Gojo clenched his fists.
"Then… what do you want me to do?"
"That is not for me to say," The man shrugged lazily. "Fate can be nudged, Satoru. But only by people who are willing to look at their own reflection without blinking. Right now? You're still keeping your eyes shut. Face what you're afraid of, or you'll turn into the very thing you hate."
A few seconds passed. Gojo's eyes shot open.
His blindfolded gaze darted around the plaza, searching the mana signatures.
His breathing finally began to slow, but the man—that strange, vacant-eyed Stargazer—was completely gone, as if he had never been there at all.
"It just keeps getting worse and worse…"
——————————————————————————————
The heavy oak table in the center of the City Hall was covered in a sprawling, ink-stained map of the Vollachian Empire.
Subaru leaned over it, rubbing his tired eyes. Louis sat on the floor beside his chair, quietly tugging at the hem of his jacket. Across from him, Abel sat with the perfect, rigid posture of a man who owned the room, even if he was currently wearing a mask and hiding from his own army.
"Well… we've taken over Guaral, so what's next?"
Subaru asked, talking to nobody in particular, but hoping for an answer.
"We require more firepower if we wish to march toward the Capital City——we need to flip some of the Nine Divine General's onto our side."
Abel said calmly, his eyes focused as he looked toward the group collected around the table.
Everyone had thankfully got over the whole failure rather quickly, or at least, excluding Priscilla——who looked like she was one insult away from strangling a child.
"Ah… right, Divine Generals——you spoke about them before… didn't you say they were super hard to control or something?" Subaru responded.
"Yes, and that would still be the case. Bringing them onto the side of the Revolution is not a matter of controlling them, that would result in a rather swift failure. But regardless of that——there are ways to make them shift sides…"
Flop, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, let out a bright, entirely out-of-place laugh.
"A tall order, mask-face-kun! From what I hear, the Generals aren't the type to be swayed by a friendly handshake."
"Flop's right…"
Medium chimed in raising a hand.
"They're scary! Really, really scary."
Subaru sighed.
"I know they're scary… but, Abel has a point, as annoying that might be to say. We literally just had a disaster trying to handle one of them. We need to know who we can talk to, and who we just have to run away from."
He looked over at the former Imperial commander.
"Zikr-san, you know them best. Who's on the board?"
Zikr Osman shifted uncomfortably under Abel's silent gaze, clearing his throat before pointing to the top of the map.
"The First, Cecilus Segmunt. The Blue Lightning. He is... most likely out of the question."
Zikr said bluntly.
"While he is no doubt the strongest being in the Empire by… quite a margin, he lives only for the sword and the concept of 'the stage.' He has almost no political loyalties, only a desire for life-or-death battles… his current whereabouts are unknown so I believe it's hard to say how approaching him with that intent in mind."
"Yeah… I was hoping we'd skip that terrifying guy anyway, in all honesty…"
Subaru muttered, getting a few confused looks by his words until Zikr continued.
"The Second is Arakiya. We are all… very well aware of her stance——"
Zikr continued, glancing toward the blasted hole in the wall down the corridor.
"——She is fiercely loyal to Princess Priscilla, and by extension, wildly unpredictable. And has more than enough fire to render an entire army as useless in an attack."
"The Third is Olbart Dunkelkenn. The Vicious Old Man of the Shinobi village and the greatest that the Empire has ever seen. He is treacherous by nature and would likely sell us to the capital for a hearty laugh."
Abel suddenly spoke up.
"He seems to follow the fake Emperor at the moment, but I have reason to believe he has other plans in mind he has opted to keep to himself."
"So the top three are a meathead, an overpowered mage with a grudge, and a backstabbing ninja… sounds great."
Subaru rubbed his temples.
"Not really looking too hot so far… but keep going."
Zikr opened his mouth to continue, but found what he was going to say barely escape his mouth.
"The Fourth, Chisha Gold, the White Spider…"
Zikr continued, tracing a line toward the capital.
"He is the current mastermind behind the capital's forces——"
"——He is the usurper's right hand…"
Abel interrupted, his voice dropping the temperature in the room.
"And he currently sits upon my throne."
For a fraction of a second, a genuine, ugly crack of malice showed through Abel's usually impenetrable composure. He leveled his gaze at the map.
"He is a dangerous man whose strategic capabilities may even surpass my own. Strike him from your thoughts."
Subaru blinked. For a man as arrogant as Abel to admit someone else might be a better strategist was a massive red flag.
Before Subaru could dwell on it, Abel smoothed over his momentary lapse in composure and moved down the list.
"The Fifth, Goz Ralfon, the Lion Knight. His loyalty to the Emperor is absolute and unshakeable. Under normal circumstances, he could be our most reliable asset."
Subaru leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"What do you mean by 'normal circumstances'?"
"He vanished without a trace the moment the coup began——"
Abel stated flatly.
"Dead or alive, we have no way of knowing. The most probable explanation is that Berstetz Foldalfon or Chisha had him captured knowing that I would be able to prove my legitimacy to him."
Subaru let out a long, heavy exhale, running a hand through his hair.
"The odds are really stacked against us, huh... Wait, why capture him? If they're taking over, wouldn't it be easier to just assassinate him?"
"Simply put, the public death of the Lion Knight would incite panic," Abel replied, shaking his head. "It would give the populace a martyr and provide the remaining loyalists a reason to rally against the capital. Keeping him hidden serves their narrative."
Zikr cleared his throat, cautiously taking the floor back.
"The Sixth is Groovy Gumlet, the Master of Curse Tools. Like Cecilus, he has not openly declared which side of the rebellion he supports."
Abel planted a hand firmly on the table, demanding the room's attention.
"Gumlet is as much a liability as he is an asset. If he decides to stand with Chisha, his arsenal alone could dismantle this revolution before it even begins."
Subaru frowned, catching the unfamiliar terminology. He raised a hand like a student in a classroom.
"Time out. What exactly is a 'Curse Tool'?"
"A weapon imbued with a curse," Zikr explained patiently. "They are rare and highly dangerous. Groovy Gumlet possesses an entire armory of them. He is unpredictable, and his loyalty is usually bought with rare artifacts rather than gold or ideals."
"Great. A magical arms dealer huh…"
Subaru sighed.
"Who's next?"
"——The Seventh is Yorna Mishigure."
Zikr said, pointing to a city far to the south.
"The Mistress of Chaosflame."
Subaru perked up.
"Chaosflame? That's where Gojo-sensei said he was before he came here. He said the lady running the place was nice."
"She is... complicated, to say the least."
Abel said, his tone guarded.
"Yorna Mishigure has rebelled against the Empire multiple times in the past. She cares only for her city and her people. If we can convince her that Chisha's rule threatens Chaosflame, she may join us."
"Finally, some good news…"
Subaru muttered.
"And the last two?"
"The Eighth is Moguro Hagane," Zikr said. "A being of living steel. He is stationed at the fortress city of Garkhla. He is loyal to the Empire, but his definition of 'the Empire' is rigid. He follows orders, not men."
"And the Ninth," Abel finished, "is Madelyn Eschart. The Dragon Rider. She is currently aligned with Berstetz and Chisha. She is young, arrogant, and commands a fleet of flying lizards. She is a significant threat."
Zikr spoke up once again, leaning forward.
"Her most recent sighting was an approach on Chaosflame with her dragon army——we do not know the reason behind her approach but it must be taken into consideration."
Subaru leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
"So, to sum up: we have a missing knight, a wild card arms dealer, a rebel lady, a literal block of steel, and a dragon-riding kid. Plus the top four, who are all basically walking natural disasters."
He looked at Abel.
"You know, when you said we needed to flip some Generals, I thought you meant we had options. This sounds more like a suicide checklist than anything..."
"It is a difficult path, yes——"
Abel agreed, his voice unwavering.
"But it is the only path. We will secure Yorna Mishigure first. Her influence and power will give us the foothold we need to challenge the capital."
Subaru nodded slowly. He looked at the map, then at the people gathered around the table.
"Alright then, Chaosflame it is I guess..."
Subaru nodded, ready to finalize the map, but Abel raised a single, gloved hand, instantly killing the momentum in the room.
Subaru rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.
"Right. Overwhelming victories. Got it. So... what's the actual plan? I sneak in, steal the warden's keys, open the cages, and give a really inspiring speech?"
Abel didn't laugh, but the cold silence he let hang in the room was mocking enough.
"If their cages were made solely of iron, Ginuhive would have been reduced to ash decades ago."
Abel said, turning back to face him.
"The island does not rely on simple locks to keep its livestock in check. Every gladiator is branded upon arrival with a Curse Mark."
Subaru stopped rubbing his neck.
"A curse mark? Isn't that made from one of the Divine General?"
"It is a spell of absolute submission. The Curse Rule activates when anyone travels too far from the Curse Tool."
Abel tapped a finger against his own chest, right over his heart.
"It would kill anyone on the island who travels too far away from it without exception. It would likely be an agonizing death. That is why they fight. Not for glory, but simply to survive until the next sunrise."
Subaru felt the color drain from his face.
"You've gotta be kidding me..."
Subaru muttered, his hands gripping the edge of the map table.
"You're sending me to start a rebellion with an army that dies if they try to leave?! Even if I get them to listen to me, the second they try to march out, they all die!"
Subaru looked up, his voice rising in panic.
"How the hell am I supposed to turn off a curse like that?"
"You will deduce a method."
Abel replied flatly, utterly unmoved by Subaru's panic.
"Deduce a method, I can't help but fear you're overestimating me here——"
"You took the fortified city of Guaral against all odds and even defeated Arakiya."
Abel countered, his piercing eyes narrowing behind his mask.
"You stood your ground against a man who wields power that rivals the strongest this world has to offer, and you survived. Breaking a localized Imperial curse should be well within the realm of your inexplicable, absurd fortune."
"That's not a strategy, that's just you throwing me at a wall and hoping I break it!" Subaru yelled.
"Exactly——"
Abel said, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative register that left no room for argument.
"You are the wrench I am throwing into Chisha Gold's machinery. I do not care how you dismantle the curse, Subaru Natsuki. Only that you do it before I arrive to collect my army."
Subaru stared at the masked Emperor, his jaw clenching. He wanted to argue. He wanted to demand a better plan, a magic item, a map——anything.
But looking at the cold pragmatism radiating from Abel, he knew it was pointless.
To Abel, this was just a game of chess, and Subaru had just been moved across the board.
Subaru let out a slow, heavy breath, looking back down at the map. He stared at the tiny speck of land surrounded by water.
"Ginuhive huh..." Subaru muttered. "Fine. I'll get your army. But don't expect me to be happy about it."
Abel simply turned his back again.
"I do not require your happiness. I require results."