The forest was dark.
Not "slightly dim."
Not "the sunlight struggled to pierce the canopy."
Dark.
It was noon.
The sun was directly overhead.
And yet the ancient trees surrounding the Mathers domain swallowed the light whole, turning the forest into a suffocating maze of shadows.
I hated it immediately.
Forests were bad.
Forests contained bugs.
Forests contained cultists.
Forests contained cultists who could kill people with invisible hands.
The entire environment felt specifically engineered to violate workplace safety regulations.
I stood near the edge of the tree line, trying very hard not to throw up.
The mana poisoning was technically gone.
The consequences were not.
My body felt fine.
My stomach felt like someone had replaced my blood with industrial cleaning products.
Still.
Operational infrastructure remained online.
Mostly.
"Gather everyone."
The nearby commanders immediately obeyed.
Within minutes, Julius, Ricardo, Mimi, Hetaro, several Iron Fang officers, and the leading Karsten knights formed a rough circle around me.
Every single one of them looked ready for battle.
Every single one of them was waiting for instructions.
I still wasn't used to that.
"This operation is different from the White Whale."
The forest grew quiet.
"The target is not a monster."
I pointed deeper into the woods.
"The leader of the Witch Cult is hiding in a cave approximately three kilometers ahead."
Several knights nodded.
Reasonable.
Simple.
Find cave.
Kill cultist.
Go home.
Unfortunately, reality had chosen violence.
"You cannot simply kill him."
The confusion was immediate.
Ricardo folded his arms.
"...That seems like it'd make things difficult."
"It does."
I took a slow breath.
"The cult leader possesses a contingency system."
The commanders exchanged glances.
I hated how insane this was going to sound.
"He has ten backup bodies."
Silence.
Mimi blinked.
"...Ten what?"
"Backup bodies."
"That's not normal."
"I am aware."
Ricardo scratched his chin.
"So if we kill him..."
"He transfers."
"...Into another body?"
"Correct."
The mercenary leader whistled.
Several knights looked disturbed.
Good.
That was the appropriate reaction.
"If we attack the cave immediately, he simply transfers into one of the hidden backups and attacks our rear."
Nobody understood the exact mechanics.
Everybody understood the implication.
Understanding slowly spread across the group.
The realization was not pleasant.
They'd been one decision away from walking directly into a trap.
Again.
Takehito. Preventing catastrophic tactical blunders through the power of anime spoilers since arriving in this world.
"The ten backups are scattered throughout the forest."
I looked toward Ricardo.
"The Iron Fang will locate and eliminate them."
Ricardo grinned.
The grin of a man who enjoyed dangerous jobs far too much.
"Now that's more like it."
"The Karsten knights will establish a perimeter and fight alongside Iron Fang."
"Obviously"
I pointed toward the forest edge.
"No cultist enters."
"No cultist leaves."
The knights saluted immediately.
Simple.
Reliable.
Beautiful.
Delegation.
The greatest invention in human history.
"If the air ripples..."
Everyone focused on me.
"...run."
A few blinked.
I pointed toward a nearby tree.
"The enemy can project invisible attacks."
That got their attention.
"Do not attempt to block them."
"Do not attempt to tank them."
"Do not test your armor."
Ricardo barked a laugh.
"What happens if someone does?"
"They die."
The laughter stopped instantly.
Excellent.
Message received.
I looked around the circle one final time.
"If you feel the air drop around you, dodge immediately. Your armor cannot survive a physical audit from whatever they're projecting."
Ricardo snorted.
Several Iron Fang members laughed.
The Karsten knights looked confused.
I wasn't explaining the joke.
"Good luck."
That was the entire motivational speech.
The Iron Fang vanished into the forest.
The Karsten knights dispersed to their assigned positions.
Within minutes, only two people remained.
Myself.
And Julius.
The forgotten knight adjusted his sword.
"Your plans continue to become more concerning the longer I know you."
"Thank you."
"I wasn't complimenting you."
"Then thank you even more."
A long sigh escaped him.
Progress.
A month ago he would've challenged me to a duel.
Now he merely sounded tired.
Friendship.
Or Stockholm Syndrome.
Hard to tell.
We moved deeper into the forest.
Eventually, we found the cave.
Then we waited.
Because unlike certain protagonists, I had absolutely no intention of walking directly into the murder cave.
Julius crouched beside me in the damp foliage.
"The Archbishop will eventually need to emerge."
"Correct."
"However..."
His gaze shifted toward me.
"...you are aware that you possess an unusually strong miasma of the whale on you[1]?"
I froze.
I knew where this conversation was going.
And I already hated it.
"Theoretically."
"You would make excellent bait."
No.
"No."
Julius blinked.
"You did not even consider it."
"I considered it."
"And?"
"No."
The knight looked mildly confused.
"Why?"
Because I enjoyed living.
Because bait had a terrible survival rate.
Because every protagonist who volunteered for bait duty immediately suffered severe workplace accidents.
Because there was zero transactional benefit to getting strangled by a lunatic in a cave.
I checked my watch.
Twelve twenty-three.
Only twenty-three minutes had passed.
Wonderful.
An entire lifetime remained.
I leaned back against a tree.
Then coughed.
A sharp pain stabbed through my chest.
I covered my mouth instinctively.
Something wet touched my palm.
Black.
For a moment, my brain stopped working.
Black blood.
Well.
That seemed medically concerning.
I stared at it.
The blood stared back.
Neither of us particularly liked what we were seeing.
The miasma.
The Whale.
The mana poisoning.
A realization slowly crawled into my skull.
Everyone assumed miasma destroyed the mind.
Hallucinations.
Madness.
Violence.
Victims clawing out their own eyes.
Yet my thoughts were perfectly clear.
No voices.
No insanity.
No overwhelming aggression.
For one brief, hopeful moment, I had actually wondered if my soul was somehow immune.
Then I looked at the blood.
The immunity was a lie.
The damage had simply been rerouted.
Not my mind.
My body.
My organs.
Something inside me was quietly rupturing.
I was bleeding internally.
"...You've gone pale."
I immediately closed my hand.
"Nothing important."
Julius looked unconvinced.
"Subaru."
"No."
"You haven't heard the question."
"The answer is still no."
The knight stared at me.
I stared back.
Eventually, he sighed.
Again.
Excellent.
The power of stubbornness remained undefeated.
"We wait."
"We wait."
I checked my watch again.
Twelve twenty-seven.
Four minutes.
Four.
Minutes.
Time had apparently entered a contractual dispute with reality.
The cave remained silent.
The forest remained silent.
A branch creaked somewhere overhead.
I nearly jumped.
Julius glanced at me.
I pretended nothing happened.
Five minutes later, another cough escaped me.
More black blood.
Not much.
Enough.
I wiped it away before Julius could see.
The knight still frowned.
"You are certain you are unharmed?"
"Absolutely."
A lie.
A terrible lie.
A medically irresponsible lie.
But still a lie I intended to maintain until Felix could explain whether water magic was capable of repairing liquefied kidneys.
The waiting continued.
Every rustle sounded like movement.
Every shifting shadow looked suspicious.
Every distant crack of wood sounded like invisible hands tearing through flesh.
My modern brain was screaming.
The cave already contained Petelgeuse.
The forest could contain anything.
I checked my watch again.
Twelve forty-two.
Impossible.
Time was actively mocking me.
Julius remained perfectly calm.
Of course he did.
He was a knight.
Knights were professionally trained to stand around dramatically.
I was an office worker.
Waiting for disaster was a completely different skill set.
Another cough.
Another smear of black.
I hid it.
Again.
Julius noticed.
Again.
Neither of us acknowledged it.
The silence stretched.
Thirty minutes.
Forty.
Fifty.
An hour.
Every rustle made my heart jump.
Every shadow looked suspicious.
Every cough tasted vaguely like death.
Then—
A branch snapped.
Both Julius and I turned instantly.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
Tivey.
The young beastman landed silently before us.
Then he raised his hand.
One signal.
Clear.
Clean.
Confirmed.
Success.
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly gave out.
The Karsten knights had held the perimeter.
The Iron Fang had completed the sweep.
All ten Fingers were dead.
No backups.
No extra lives.
No hidden second phase.
Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti was officially operating on a single health bar.
Then the screaming started.
It exploded from the cave.
A shrill.
Broken.
Inhuman sound.
"LOOOOOOOOVE!"
Another scream followed.
"MY FINGERS!"
A third.
"MY DEVOTION!"
The cave entrance erupted.
A man stumbled into the clearing.
Tall.
Thin.
Wild green hair.
Bloodshot eyes.
His fingers clawed across his own face hard enough to draw blood.
Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti.
Archbishop of Sloth.
The madman looked around frantically.
Panic radiated from every movement.
He could feel it.
The silence.
The absence.
The sudden terrifying emptiness where ten minds had once existed.
His backups were gone.
For the first time in a very long time—
He was mortal.
Julius slowly drew his sword.
The blade reflected what little light managed to penetrate the canopy.
Petelgeuse's eyes locked onto him instantly.
The Archbishop smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
It was the kind of smile that made people invent religion.
"You."
Julius stepped forward.
[1] he absorbed the whale's miasma/fog