Subaru came back with a deep inhale. The air filled her lungs, cold and sharp, and she almost choked on it. Her hands shook. Her legs felt weak. If demons could pee, she would have wet herself already. The thought came unbidden, absurd, and she almost laughed at it.
Demons could eat. She had learned that much. They could chew and swallow and taste, though most food seemed to give them no pleasure. They could mimic human habits, sitting at tables, raising cups, laughing at jokes. But they lacked the organic biology to produce bodily waste. Their anatomy was generally focused on magical predation, not biological functions like digestion. That was why she did not need to attend nature's call. One less thing to worry about in a body that was not hers.
Regardless, the point was not about digestion or waste or the strange quirks of demon anatomy. The point was that she had died. Again. And she was back. Again. And the tall demon with the scar and the grin would step out of the woods at any moment, and she would have to face him. Again.
He came out of the woods and looked at her. His stride was slow, confident, unhurried. His light colored hair moved in the breeze. His scarred eye caught the faint light filtering through the trees.
"I had heard that Aura was killed by Frieren," he said, "so I assumed her accomplices were dead too." He tilted his head, studying her like a collector examining a curious artifact. "I am curious how you ended up in this predicament, Linie."
Subaru's mind raced. The last loop, she had tried to play along. She had called him old man. She had tried to be clever. It had not worked. This time, she would try something else. Something simpler. Something that might buy her a few extra seconds.
"I, uh, I have my reasons," she said.
The demon raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. What are they?"
"None of your business."
He laughed. Not a loud laugh, but a genuine one, as if she had said something truly funny. "Huh. You seem to have picked up a variety of expressions from humans."
Subaru straightened her back. She was tired of the games, the circling, the pretending. She wanted answers. She wanted to know what he wanted. She wanted to figure out how to survive.
"Yosh," she said, clapping her hands together. "What do you want from me?"
"I heard—"
"That I outclassed Wirt and you want to fight me?"
The demon's grin widened. "You know me well. Hahaha. Well, then—"
"Wait a minute!"
He paused. His expression shifted to mild confusion. "What?"
Subaru put her hands on her hips and sighed, the way a disappointed teacher might sigh at a student who had forgotten something obvious. "It is the rule to give an introduction before a spar. Do you not know that? Unbelievable."
He stared at her. For a moment, she thought she had pushed too far, that he would simply kill her and end the conversation. But then he laughed again, shaking his head.
"Fine," he said. "I will play along."
Subaru nodded. "Good. I will go first, and you follow my lead." She cleared her throat and raised her chin. "I am Linie. I can create weapons with my mana."
The demon watched her, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "That is interesting," he said. "You are acting like Solitär. Did she get her hands on you?" He did not wait for an answer. He spread his arms wide, as if welcoming an old friend. "Well, I am Rivale, the Bloody God of War. And I too can create weapons with my mana."
Subaru filed the name away. Rivale. The Bloody God of War. It was not a comforting title.
"Now," he said, his smile sharpening, "fight."
He vanished.
Subaru was ready this time. Her hand shot out, mana surging through her veins, her mind grasping for the right image. Not a katana. Not an axe. Something else. Something that might match his power.
"Erfassen," she whispered.
Kusanagi appeared in her hands. The blade was elegant, sleek, with a presence that felt powerful. She had seen it in anime, in pictures, in the pages of manga that she had read a few years ago. The sword of Sasuke Uchiha.
Rivale appeared before her. His hand was raised, and in his hand was a sword. It looked exactly like Kusanagi. The same style. The same length. The same presence.
Subaru's eyes widened. He copied me, she thought. So really, he can create anything too.
Their blades clashed. The sound was not a ring or a clang. It was a scream, a shriek of metal that hurt her ears and shook her teeth. The impact sent her flying backward, her boots leaving the ground, her body tumbling through the air.
But she landed gracefully. Her feet touched the dirt, and she slid backward, her heels digging furrows in the soil. She kept her balance. She kept her blade ready. She did not fall.
Rivale looked at the sword in his hand. He turned it over, examining the edge, the built, the weight. His expression was thoughtful, almost appreciative.
"A fine weapon," he said. "Despite the flaws, this is a beauty." He looked up at Subaru, and his grin returned. "Let me test its limits."
He charged.
Subaru met him. Kusanagi clashed against Kusanagi, the twin blades sparking and screeching. She moved through the forms she had copied, the techniques she had stolen from Sasuke Uchiha. The movements were fluid, precise, deadly. She struck high and low, left and right, forcing Rivale to block and parry and dodge.
But she was easily overwhelmed.
Each of his strikes carried the weight of a falling tree. Each of his blocks sent shockwaves through her arms. She gave ground, step by step, her boots slipping in the dirt, her breath coming faster and faster.
She had no doubt that her sword skills were superior to his. Erfassen had copied Sasuke's swordplay "perfectly", although inferior. She moved like a shadow, struck like a snake, flowed like water.
But he was overwhelmingly stronger. Overwhelmingly faster. Each time their blades met, her Kusanagi cracked. A small line appeared near the hilt. Then another near the tip. Then another along the edge.
While she did copy Sasuke's moves "perfectly", her speed was far inferior to the original and her attacks were weaker.
"It looks like you have only been copying, Linie!" Rivale shouted, his voice carrying over the clash of blades. "You did not listen to what I said! You are just as weak as the others!"
Subaru wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him that copying was all she had, that she had never trained a day in her life, that she was not Linie, not a demon, not anything he thought she was. In her past life, he maintained an athletic build by doing daily calisthenics, including roughly 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and 100 squats, along with running. He was raised as an athlete by his father, engaging in activities like running and kendo as a child. But now it is all pointless for various reasons.
Rivale's sword sliced through her Kusanagi. The blade she had created shattered into pieces, the fragments dissolving into mana before they hit the ground. His blade did not stop. It continued through the space where her sword had been, through her guard, through her defense.
It passed diagonally through her skull.
For a moment, nothing happened. The world froze. Subaru stood there, her body still upright, her hands still holding the hilt of a sword that no longer existed. Rivale stood in front of her, his blade extended, his expression calm.
Then the upper part of Subaru's head slid off.
It moved slowly, almost gently, as if the two halves were parting ways after a long journey together. The top of her skull tilted backward, then fell, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Her brain was exposed to the cold air, pink and glistening, and then it too began to slide, to fall, to spill.
Her body stood still for a moment. The muscles did not know they were dead yet. The nerves did not know there was no longer a brain to send signals. She stood there, headless, her dress stained with blood, her turban coming loose from the stump of her neck.
Then her knees buckled. She fell forward, her body crumpling onto the ground, her blood soaking into the dirt.
She died. Again.
Rivale looked down at her. He wiped his blade on the grass, cleaning it of the blood that had already begun to fade. His expression was unreadable, neither pleased nor displeased.
"Disappointing," he said.
The forest was quiet. The birds did not sing. The wind did not blow. Only the fading light of Subaru's body, dissolving into mist, marked the place where she had fallen.