――Life on Gladiator Island Ginunhive, was not that bad for Subaru.
Subaru's performance during the Sparka event had been well received by the gladiators competing on the Gladiator Island, despite their innate fear of him.
Even in an environment where one would be forced to fight, the way of the Vollachian Empire remained unchanged.
Ever since Subaru and Cecilus had started eating together, the other gladiators had begun treating their table like a quarantine zone. It wasn't just a lack of seats being taken nearby, it was the way men would catch sight of Subaru's dark eyes and suddenly decide they weren't hungry anymore.
"Huh. I'd already heard from Gustav-san that the Fortress City had been completely taken over... that really is a major development, isn't it? It's almost heartbreaking to hear about such grand developments happening in the outside world while I'm stuck here on this island."
Cecilus sat cross-legged on the bench, his chin resting in his hand. He looked genuinely pouty and seemed entirely oblivious to—or perhaps simply bored by—the fact that his presence had caused a mass exodus from the hall.
"Well, what about everything that went on at the Demon City?"
The voice came from Weitz. The tattooed gladiator sat at the edge of the table, his posture stiff. He was one of the few who hadn't fled, though he looked like he was constantly calculating his chances of survival.
Subaru's spoon paused halfway to his mouth.
That was where Abel, Al, and Medium had gone while he was being dragged here to this island of sand and blood. A spike of anxiety poked at his chest. If something had happened there, it meant his allies—if you could call the Emperor that—were likely in the thick of it.
"What happened at Chaosflame?" Subaru asked, his voice low.
Weitz raised a tattooed brow, looking at Subaru with a mix of suspicion and genuine surprise.
"I'm more surprised you haven't heard. The word is... supposedly, the damn Witch Cult attacked the city. Just like that. No logic, no warning. Or at least, that's what the rumors are saying."
"——The Witch Cult?!"
The words felt like a physical blow to Subaru's stomach. His eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks.
The Witch Cult. Those lunatics didn't move for politics or territory. They were a swarm of pure, concentrated malice that existed only to tear the world's sanity to shreds.
But why now? Why Chaosflame?
No logic. It's always no logic with them.
"The damn Witch Cult?! Are you being serious right now?!"
The shout came from Hiain. The Lizardman was practically vibrating, his scales dull with cold sweat. He had survived the Sparka by using his camouflage to turn invisible——a cowardly move, perhaps, but in a place like this, cowardice was often just another word for efficiency.
Even Subaru hadn't been able to spot him when he truly wanted to disappear.
"Yeah," Weitz grunted, his face darkening. "As far as I know, the last time those freaks did anything in the Empire was over a decade ago. Just one of those Sin Archbishops almost completely wiped the city of Garkla off the map. Thousands of soldiers, gone in a night. It's unsettling to even imagine that a single person could hold that much 'unreasonableness.'"
"Jeez..." Hiain shivered, his tail twitching nervously.
Subaru felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd heard that story before. The unreasonableness of Garkla had a name: Regulus Corneas. The man who represented the absolute peak of selfishness. The man who had, in another life, another loop, stood over the broken body of Satoru Gojo with that same arrogant, hollow smile.
To think those monsters were active in Vollachia while Subaru was trapped in a shrunken body on a gladiator island... it felt like the world was laughing at him.
"Is the Demon City... still standing?" Subaru asked.
He needed to know. If Chaosflame was gone, then Abel was gone. And if Abel was gone, Subaru's path home was buried under a mountain of rubble.
Weitz scratched his chin, his eyes darting toward the shadows of the hall.
"I'm not sure. Information moves slow when everyone is terrified. For all we know, the slaughter is still going on as we speak."
"Uau?"
A small hand patted Subaru's cheek. Louis tilted her head in confusion. She couldn't understand the gravity of the words being spoken, but she could read the drop in Subaru's shoulders.
"...I'm fine, Louis. Just eat," Subaru muttered, gently pushing her hand back toward her own mouth.
"Hmmmmm.... A mysterious cult of lunatics laying siege to an entire city?" Cecilus leaned forward, his starry eyes practically glowing. "I'd definitely go as far as to call that both unorthodox and amusing. Would anyone else agree on me with this line of thought?"
Hiain stared at the blue-haired boy as if he had just sprouted a second head.
"Are... are you insane?! We're talking about the Witch Cult! They don't leave survivors! They're walking natural disasters!"
"All the more reason to draw my swords against them!" Cecilus beamed.
A sudden, sharp clatter interrupted the lizardman's panicked response.
Idra Missanga, the rust-haired man, was staring at his own hands, his wooden spoon having slipped from his trembling fingers to hit the table.
The man hadn't spoken a single word since the events of the Sparka. His face was pale, shadows deeply etched under his eyes, and his posture was hunched as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible.
He slowly raised his head, his gaze locking onto Subaru. There was no hostility in those eyes——only the suffocating, crushing weight of guilt.
"...Why aren't you saying anything to me?" Idra's voice was hoarse, tearing slightly at the edges.
Subaru didn't blink. "About what?"
"Don't play dumb....." Idra's hands clenched into fists on the rough wood. "I pushed you. When that beast charged... I grabbed you, and I threw you right in front of it. I tried to use a kid as a meat shield so I could run away and live for a few extra seconds."
Weitz and Hiain went completely still. Even Louis stopped chewing for a second, sensing the harsh shift in the air, though Cecilus merely tilted his head with mild curiosity.
Idra's breathing grew shallow. He knew perfectly well how things worked in Ginunhive. A grudge like that was settled with blood. He knew that an apology was entirely worthless. You didn't just apologize for attempted murder in the Vollachian Empire. You either finished the job, or you died for failing.
"I've been sitting here waiting for you to tell this.... guy to cut my head off," Idra spat out, gesturing vaguely toward Cecilus. "Or for you to do it yourself. So why haven't you?"
Subaru looked at Idra. He remembered the feeling of hands attempting to shove him directly into the jaws of the charging Witchbeast. Of course, it did not work, Idra certainly did not hold remotely close to the physical capabilities required to actually push Subaru.
Though that didn't mean it didn't piss Subaru off. Because it did, it really did.
But looking at the pathetic, shaking man in front of him, Subaru just felt incredibly tired.
"If I thought about killing you like that, I'd really just be a hypocrite." Subaru said, his voice completely flat.
Idra flinched as if he'd been struck.
"You were terrified," Subaru continued, looking away from Idra and back to his watery soup. "You panicked and did something cowardly and totally pathetic. It would've been bad if I were just any normal kid, but I really doubt you'll be the last person to do something like that to me, so..."
When ordinary individuals encounter the world's irrational monsters, they shatter.
Subaru has come to accept this as an undeniable fact, and as a result, he often wonders how he would have fared if Satoru Gojo had never turned up to teach him how to use Cursed Energy. What would his life be like now if that incredible but extremely bothersome individual hadn't shown up to help?
Would it be better? Would it be worse?
Raising his spoon, Subaru gestured to Idra.
That is the wrong line of thinking, Subaru.
"Don't get it twisted. I haven't forgiven you, not so easily. But we're a Unit now. If we start killing each other over what happened in the sand, nobody will be making it off this island. Myself included. So eat your food, Idra. I have much bigger things to worry about than a guy who's already beating himself up over it."
Idra sat frozen.
"You intend to... escape from this island?
Subaru nodded.
His mouth opened, but no more words came out. Instead, he looked down at his fists, his jaw tight as he fought a miserable, internal battle. Slowly, he picked up his spoon again, his hand shaking harder than before. He didn't say 'thank you'—that would have been an insult to the mercy he'd just been shown—but his shoulders dropped an inch.
Weitz let out a slow exhale, the tension bleeding out of his stiff posture, while Hiain wiped his scaly brow in relief.
Cecilus suddenly clapped his hands together, completely ignoring the heavy atmosphere.
"Forgiveness born not of kindness, but of pure, cold pragmatism! The burdened character spares the treacherous extra for the sake of the greater journey! Basu, you become more and more amusing to me every time you speak."
"... Thanks, I guess?"
"Haha~ well, with all the moping out of the way... it should be about time..."
With a look of bewilderment on his face, Subaru turned to Cecilus. The question that was swelling in his throat was irrepressible.
"...What are you talking about?"
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The dry, biting wind of the mountain whipped through the observation deck, carrying with it the scent of sun-scorched stone and the distant clang of iron.
Located halfway up the jagged peak that loomed over the island, the deck offered a panoramic view of the raised drawbridge——a vantage point that had drawn a small, hushed crowd of Gladiator. Among them stood a boy with eyes that held the weight of a thousand tragedies, and a blue-haired anomaly who stood as if the mountain itself were merely a pedestal for his performance.
Subaru looked down at the tiny, ant-like figures stumbling off the transport vessels.
"Do new people normally show up this frequently?" Subaru asked, his voice catching slightly in the thin air.
Cecilus shook his head. "No, no, not at all! Normally, the stage takes its time to reset. However, your group's Sparka was a most peculiar exception. All but the three survivors in Basu's Unit met a damp end at the bottom of the lake during that grand escape attempt. A tragedy, certainly, but as it goes, the show must go on."
Subaru's eyes narrowed. He remembered the story now. The gladiator candidates who were supposed to arrive with Weitz and the others had tried to revolt before even setting foot on the island. The carriage had overturned, the drawbridge had failed, and the lake's aquatic Witchbeasts had enjoyed a rare banquet.
The Sparka was supposed to be postponed until the numbers were replenished. But then, a small boy and a golden-haired girl had fallen into the island's lap.
"Ah... so that's why everyone those three at me like I was walking garbage," Subaru muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "We were the 'fillers' that forced them to go into that deathmatch early."
"You really have a colorful way of describing yourself, Basu!" Cecilus commented, entirely unbothered.
Essentially, by adding one child with nasty eyes and another with a vacant, wide-eyed stare, the quota for a five-man Unit had been met. To Idra, Weitz, and Hiain, Subaru's arrival hadn't been a miracle——it had been the sound of a death sentence being moved up on the calendar.
Subaru let out a tired sigh, then shifted his gaze toward a nearby cluster of rocks.
"... What are you hiding for?"
"Urgh——!"
With a clumsy rustle, Hiain the lizardman emerged from a staggeringly poor hiding spot. He looked like a man who had been caught trying to peek into a forbidden temple. He hadn't used his camouflage, for whatever reason, making his scales stand out like a sore thumb against the gray rock.
"You know... if you wanted to see the newcomers, you could have just walked up..." Subaru said, his voice flat. "It's not like we're going to bite your head off."
"Yes, I'm here to see the Gladiators, is there something wrong with that!? Plus, you say that so easily!" Hiain stammered, his tail twitching. "I'm terrified of both of you! Rightfully so! You're a kid who kills monsters with his bare hands and he is... he's... whatever the hell he is!"
Hiain gestured wildly at Cecilus, who offered a charming, theatrical wave.
Subaru shook his head. "A cowardly tsundere, huh? This place really does have the whole cast."
"Hmmm? What's that word, Basu? Is it a title of sorts?"
"... Nothing you need to worry about."
Sensing Cecilus's instincts starting to tingle at the prospect of a new role, Subaru quickly pivoted.
"Say, Ceci. What kind of person is Gustav?"
The name of the Governor hung in the air. Gustav, the man who enforced the island's rules through a Cursed Tool provided by one of the Divine General. He was the warden of this cage, the man who held the leash on every gladiator's life.
Cecilus tilted his head, his starry eyes blinking in contemplation.
"Hmm... Gustav-san? That's quite a broad question, Basu. But if I had to give a critique from the front row... I'd say he's boring."
Cecilus huffed, wagging a finger like a disappointed director.
"However, that is likely my opinion alone. The other people, especially the ones who've been here for a while longer—the ones who have survived long enough to remember the 'older days'—hold a great deal of respect for him."
"Respect?" Subaru blinked. In a place like this, respect usually meant fear.
"Indeed! Despite the irony of his position, Gustav-san prefers non-violent solutions whenever possible. Under his management, the mortality rate has dropped and... what was the term? Ah, yes! The 'quality-of-life' has skyrocketed. He's quite the humanitarian, in his own dull way."
Subaru felt a weight settle in his stomach.
If Gustav were a bloodthirsty tyrant, Subaru's path would be clear. He could justify anything—rebellion, theft, violence—in the name of survival. But a good man? A man who made this hellhole slightly more bearable for the people trapped inside?
That made things more complicated.
Cecilus leaned in, a sharp, amused glint in his eyes.
"Thinking of advancing the script, are we, Basu?"
Subaru shrugged.
"I was, but I've changed my mind."
"...I don't even want to know what the two of you are talking about..." Hiain muttered, his tail twitching irritably.
He took a deliberate step back, putting distance between himself and the two monsters, and focused his attention on the transport carriage coming to a halt at the base of the mountain.
The drawbridge groaned, iron teeth biting into the stone of the island.
"Ah——!?"
Hiain's voice cracked, a high-pitched sound of pure, unadulterated shock. His scales seemed to pale, losing their vibrant luster as his pupils shrank to thin vertical slits.
"Those idiots... they actually ended up gettin' caught...!"
Hiain covered his face with his clawed, webbed hands, but he couldn't stop himself from peering through the gaps between his fingers. Down below, a group of newcomers was being herded out like cattle. They were all lizardmen——much like Hiain, though their scales were a dusty, sun-bleached red compared to his own deep green.
Subaru narrowed his eyes. He didn't need to be a mind reader to understand the weight behind that strangled exclamation.
"... Even though they went as far as to use me as bait just to get away." Hiain whispered, his voice thick with a bitter, jagged edge.
Subaru remembered what the lizardman had confessed not too long ago. Hiain had been a decoy. He had used his camouflage to draw the attention of slavers, believing his friends were escaping to safety. He had been a sacrificial pawn, a disposable tool discarded on the side of the road.
And now, here they were.
"They're the ones who used you, huh." Subaru said. It wasn't a question.
"Guh..." Hiain let out a wet, ragged sniffle. "S-serves 'em right! Thinkin' they were so clever, makin' a fool out of me just to end up in the same cage anyway! After everythin' they put me through... it's just ridiculous! Pathetic!"
Cecilus, who had been watching the scene with the detached curiosity of a man observing an ant colony, let out a thoughtful humming sound.
The sound was enough to make Hiain snap. The lizardman turned, his teeth bared in a defensive, panicked snarl.
"What!? You got a problem with me or somethin'!? Go ahead, say it!"
"Oh, no, I wasn't criticizing you at all!" Cecilus beamed, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "In fact, I was quite impressed! It was such a perfectly mediocre statement. A textbook line from a mediocre character who exists solely to be beaten down by the world!"
Hiain froze. "What the hell are you...?"
"It's something I've been wondering for quite a while now...." Cecilus continued, ignoring the lizardman's confusion and anger. "Why do people who are destined to be side characters always blurt out things that confirm they are side characters? Why don't they ever try to change their dialogue? It's as if they've never read a picture book in their lives. The weak say weak things, the strong say strong things, and the extras whisper in voices that are hard to hear. It's all so terribly consistent, don't you think?"
"Y-You...!"
Hiain was trembling now, his face a mask of wounded pride and genuine terror.
Cecilus leaned forward, his starry eyes widening with a terrifying, hollow brightness.
"We are all actors, are we not? We must live out our lives to the fullest! Of course, the Lead Actor can only be me... but honestly, Hiain, why don't you try thinking about what you're saying? It makes you sound so very... disposable."
Hiain's breath hitched. He felt it——the absolute, soul-crushing indifference in Cecilus's gaze. To the Blue Lightning, Hiain wasn't a person with a painful past; he was just a poorly written line in a play.
"——Cecilus."
The voice was low, cutting through Cecilus's manic energy like a cold blade.
Subaru stood there, his brow furrowed, his asty eyes narrowed into dark, dangerous slits.
"Huh? What's wrong, Basu?"
Cecilus asked, tilting his head with innocent confusion.
"——Shut your mouth."
Cecilus blinked. He looked at Subaru, then back at the shaking Hiain. He raised his hands in a playful gesture of surrender.
"Seems I did something wrong again."
Subaru ignored him. He stepped forward, closing the distance to Hiain.
Even though Subaru was barely half the lizardman's size, Hiain found himself shrinking back, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Subaru looked down at the drawbridge a mile away, at the group of lizardmen who had betrayed their comrade, and then back to the green-scaled man standing beside him.
"Hiain. I'm only going to ask you this once...."
Subaru said, his voice devoid of pity or judgment.
"——Do you want them to live?"
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However, the time for the next Sparka was hours away.
If he was going to actually escape this island while having gained something from it, he needed to understand the exact shape of his own fangs. He needed to know what this new, shrunken body—and the unreasonable power currently festering inside it—could actually handle.
"I must admit, I wasn't expecting such a bold request from you, Basu."
"...What do you mean"
Subaru kept his gaze forward, following the bouncing blue ponytail through the damp, torch-lit corridors of the island's underbelly.
"Well, asking for a spar right out of the blue is definitely an expected change," Cecilus laughed,. "Not that I mind, of course. I've been dreadfully curious to see just how deep that monstrous well of yours actually goes! And let's be honest, on this entire miserable rock, I'm the only one with the caliber to actually make you sweat. Anyone else would just be a prop meant to be broken!"
Subaru didn't reply. He hadn't been told where they were going, as Cecilus had insisted on keeping the location a surprise for the audience.
A moment later, Cecilus came to a sudden halt in front of a heavy, rotting wooden door.
"——Tada!" he cheered, lifting a leg and kicking the door squarely in the center.
With a violent sound, the door practically exploded inward, tearing off its rusted iron hinges and slamming into the stone wall inside.
"This is where we'll be fighting, Basu!"
"... Was that really necessary?" He muttered.
Subaru stepped through the threshold, coughing slightly as a thick cloud of ancient, undisturbed dust washed over him. He narrowed his eyes, surveying the wide, dimly lit room.
"Uaaa..."
Louis, clinging tightly to Subaru's sleeve, made her usual soft, formless noise. It was impossible to tell if she was frightened by the sudden loud noise, or simply annoyed by the dust tickling her nose.
The room was incredibly bare-bones. Carved directly into the rock was a vast, circular arena, ringed by several racks of weapons that looked like they hadn't been touched in a decade. There were no bleachers, no bloodstains on the floor. In a place dedicated to constant, violent death, this room felt entirely abandoned.
"Some sort of old training room?" Subaru asked, his gaze drifting toward the neglected racks.
"Yep! I'm not entirely sure why it was completely neglected like this though," Cecilus said, casually strolling toward the center of the ring. "They didn't even bother to clear out the props. Just left them here to collect dust! It's quite unfortunate. I heard a rumor that it had something to do with the previous Governor's standards not aligning with Gustav-san's way back when... but honestly, I stopped listening during the exposition dump."
Subaru huffed out a short breath through his nose.
Of course he did. Why am I not surprised?
"Uau..." Louis tugged at his sleeve again, looking up at him with wide, blank eyes.
Subaru's expression softened. He gently peeled her small fingers off his clothes, patting her head.
"Don't worry, Louis. We're just having a little sparring session. Can I trust you to hold the fort and keep an eye on the door for any unwanted visitors?"
Louis blinked, then gave a confusing, happy gesture that looked halfway between a salute and a cheer, before obediently waddling over to a safe corner by the entrance.
Satisfied she was out of the way, Subaru walked over to the nearest rack. He grabbed a steel shortsword, blowing a layer of grime off the flaking leather hilt.
He gave it a few test swings before frowning. The weight of it felt distinctly wrong in his small hands. It was heavier than his liking, rigid, and entirely too physical. He much preferred the fluid, weightless darkness he'd learned to conjure——a power that felt less like a tool and more like an extension of his own violent will. Holding a mundane piece of steel just felt crude in comparison.
"I'm honestly surprised these things are still usable..." Subaru muttered, tossing the blade up slightly to test its center of gravity.
Cecilus just gave a small, careless shrug as he plucked a random sword off the rack for himself.
"Who knows! The Empire makes sturdy props. They must've been sitting here ever since Gustav-san took over the stage, but..."
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room warped. The goofy, eccentric child didn't vanish, but something in the air changed that made the hairs on Subaru's arms stand on end. Cecilus rested the worn blade casually against his shoulder.
"...Enough about all that, Basu! Show me what you can do."
Subaru instantly shifted his weight, dropping his center of gravity into a very specific, aggressive stance.
It was a posture scorched into his very soul——the exact same one he had faced down against Reid Astrea in the Pleiades Watchtower.
The first Sword Saint had taught Subaru during their final, climactic battle, after all. It wasn't a lesson of words, but one of violence. When you are beaten and broken repeatedly by the same man, your muscle memory eventually begins to mimic the monster, if only to survive a single second longer.
Across the arena, Cecilus didn't so much as twitch. He merely stood there, his head tilted appraisingly. His starry eyes watched Subaru with the eager, hungry anticipation of a critic waiting for the curtain to rise on a masterpiece.
Subaru kicked off the stone floor.
He cut through the stale air, erasing the distance in a fraction of a second. The steel shortsword arced diagonally——a vicious, desperate trajectory aimed straight for the blue-haired boy. Cecilus casually tracked the incoming iron, his gaze never wavering as he raised the blade in a lazy swipe to parry.
Subaru hadn't expected the first strike to land. He knew better than that.
Therefore, without even a moment's hesitation, he anchored his footing and lunged forward with a piercing thrust——
Sparks erupted like white-hot fireworks. The blades clashed, sending a violent, bone-rattling shock of pain straight up Subaru's forearm.
Ignoring the sudden numbness in his grip, Subaru used the recoil to violently twist his body, throwing a high roundhouse kick——a move he was honestly quite proud of.
But alas, it struck nothing but empty air.
He didn't stop. He couldn't. Subaru followed through with a wide, sweeping arc toward Cecilus's ankles. At the same time, he let a surge of that volatile, pitch-black energy coil around his left fist like a hungry shadow.
Cecilus hopped over the blade with the impossible grace of a bird, but Subaru was already rising. He surrendered the grip on his sword, letting the weapon fall from his hands.
Letting go of the hilt, he lunged upward, throwing a punch fueled by every ounce of unreasonableness his shrunken veins could carry.
"Oho!"
Cecilus's head leaned sideways just as the fist whistled past his chin. The sheer wind pressure from the strike cracked the stone wall behind them, but the Blue Lightning was already a blur in his periphery, moving at speeds Subaru's eyes simply couldn't track.
A hand caught Subaru's collar.
Before he could process the sensation, he was being hoisted into the air like a helpless kitten. Then, he saw Cecilus's foot blur.
Choosing to take the blow rather than fight the inevitable, Subaru reached out to catch the hilt of his falling sword just before he was sent flying. The force of the kick was absurd——mighty enough to hurl him across the arena like a ragdoll. His boots plowed deep furrows into the ground as he fought to kill the momentum.
His vision swam, white spots dancing in his eyes from the impact of a blow that, for Cecilus, was surely just playful.
"...Way too damn fast."
"Wonderful, Basu. Truly wonderful!" Cecilus stood at the center of the arena, spinning his aged sword like a baton. "Abandoning your weapon to create a gap for a lethal strike? It's a fine choice, mostly because you're quite powerful physically. But your timing is just a hair off. You're thinking too much about the 'result' and not enough about the 'flow'!"
"I can't help but feel like the 'flow' you're talking about is moving way too fast for me to catch."
Cecilus hummed, a small smile playing on his lips.
That is, right before he took a singular step forward and completely vanished from Subaru's vision.
His current level of speed—however much he was holding back—wasn't entirely imperceptible to Subaru. But it was certainly close to being so.
The air screamed as a blue blur flickered past him. Subaru grimaced, feeling the vacuum created by the movement.
Pivoting on his planted foot to twist behind, Subaru gritted his teeth and brought his sword around in a final, desperate swing aimed right for Cecilus's neck.
The Blue Lightning made two movements in the span of a single heartbeat.
A blinding spike of pain lanced through Subaru's wrist as his blade was effortlessly swatted away. In the very next moment, a glint of silver that was not there a millisecond prior... the razor edge of Cecilus's sword came to a dead halt——exactly one inch from Subaru's throat.
——Then, a moment later, the physics of the world finally caught up.
A delayed shockwave of displaced air blasted through the room, whipping Subaru's black hair and Cecilus's blue ponytail wildly. A miniature sandstorm of dust billowed out around them, marking the end of the exchange.
Cecilus smiled slightly, lowering the blade.
"It's just as I suspected. How utterly fascinating. Just like me, Basu... you are not afraid of death."
Subaru blinked, his chest heaving slightly as he stood down. He tilted his head.
Not afraid of death. It was a grand misunderstanding, but Subaru couldn't exactly blame him for reaching that conclusion. When someone was forced to experience their own gruesome end over and over again, they naturally became desensitized to the concept of dying. The end wasn't an unknown void to fear anymore, so much as it was just a twisted reset button.
But that didn't mean he wanted to die. Subaru wanted to live more than anything. If he had to pinpoint it, it wasn't the fear of death that drove him anymore——it was the fear of pain. It was a perfectly ordinary, human response, warped by an incredibly unordinary curse.
"Well, what's the verdict?"
Subaru asked, shaking the lingering numbness from his wrist.
"Hmmmm." Cecilus tapped his chin with a slender finger, resting the rusted sword casually against his shoulder. "Well, for starters, you're holding back on me! I'm not blind enough to miss that, Basu."
"Ah... yeah. It's not really something I want to do, but something I have to do."
Not including the fact he didn't use an Authority. It was just a matter of basic plumbing. He needed to figure out exactly how much pressure his new, shrunken body could actually handle. If he forced too much of that volatile Cursed Energy of his through his child-sized circuits all at once, he'd probably burst every blood vessel in his body. And bursting like a blood balloon definitely fell under the category of things that are too painful to experience.
"I see, I see!" Cecilus hummed in thought, completely unfazed. "Well, alright then! But since you asked for my thoughts, I'll give you a proper review... it's highly unusual! Honestly, it's rather hard to put into words!"
Cecilus began pacing in a small circle, his sandals clicking against the stone.
"It's almost like... you don't actually have a fighting style of your own? No, no, that's putting it too bluntly and it's not entirely true. You have a style, but it feels like a script someone else wrote for you! You aren't utilizing it to its absolute limits because the moves don't truly belong to you. Or at least, that's the impression I got from seeing it head on, and I definitely have a good eye for these types of things."
Subaru stared at the steel in his hand, his grip tightening slightly.
"...Is that so?"
Cecilus leaned against the weapon rack, the half-rusted blade he'd used against Subaru resting casually in the crook of his arm. He looked up at the vaulted, crumbling ceiling, his starry eyes reflecting a light that didn't exist in this dim room.
"I'd read about a certain man once, Basu. A warrior so impeccable with the sword that the world itself decided to label his feats and very existence as the Heavenly Sword."
Subaru's eyes twitched. A cold shiver, one he knew all too well, crawled up his spine. The phantom sensation of a blade—or a pair of chopsticks—slicing through his reality flickered across his vision.
"Reid Astrea." Subaru muttered, the name tasting like a grudge.
"Ah? Was that the name? I can't quite recall the details," Cecilus commented, a faint, envious smile playing on his lips. "I'd heard he once fought here on Ginunhive, just like you and I! A record of six thousand consecutive wins, written in the blood of those who dared to step onto his stage. If there were ever a person I would like to meet, it would be that man. To share a scene with the pinnacle and best him in battle... imagine the lighting! The applause!"
Subaru looked away, his jaw tightening.
In his mind, he saw that man. The red-haired, stick-swinging maniac who had turned the Pleiades Watchtower into a personal slaughterhouse.
He remembered the cackling laughter, the absolute, crushing arrogance, and the way he had dismantled Subaru and Gojo both with the casual indifference of a man swatting a fly.
To the world, Reid Astrea was a legend. To Subaru, he was the ultimate bad teacher who had forced him to learn the meaning of despair in exchange for a few scraps of survival.
"...Ever heard the saying 'don't meet your heroes'?" Subaru muttered under his breath.
Cecilus raised a brow, tilting his head with bird-like curiosity.
"What was that, Basu? Did you just deliver an important line?"
"Ah, no, no. Don't worry about it. Let's just... keep on sparring."
Subaru stared at the rough, stone floor.
Reid Astrea hadn't fought for justice, there was no doubt about that. He had fought because he was Reid Astrea, and the rest of the world was simply an obstacle in his way. He lived without a single care for the logic or expectations of others.
That was what made him the pinnacle.
And in that case, Subaru had an idea.