Y/N POV
The first door I went through was covered in flowers and stone bricks. How interesting. I honestly did not expect anything like this for any of the witches of sin.
Or... could it be?
The answer was revealed soon enough. My soul, pulled from my physical body, was plunged into this memory of hers.
The memory of the Witch of Pride.
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A girl once existed. Humble clothes upon a skinny figure, green hair along with a skin tanned in the shine of days. She seemed to be at an age to be a called a little girl, however, her heart was commanded by unending distress.
Unable to find the answer for it by any means, for the girl, it was an inborn argument. What's troubling her mind was the unending supreme argument. It was the logic omnipresent in the world, that contrast of white and black: namely, good and evil. Righteousness, and the deeds of err.
Though there were innumerable choices in the world, all deeds are eventually decided to be on either of those positive and negative poles. For the yet youthful girl, there was a reason to continue to anguish over that logic. It was inevitable for her. The one who had divided the woman's world into white and black, good and evil, the righteous and the sinners, was her own father. Her father decapitated the necks of sinners, and made a living by delivering punishment appropriate for the errs. Delivering the end of their life, the punishment suitable for their err, upon the sinners who had sinned, meant livelihood to her father.
An 'executioner', they called him. The girl had seen the actions of her father, who was named that, and the state of affairs of the execution site, before even the days of youth. The repulsive and cruel deeds, the death wails of the sinners granted quietus, the execution site ruled by blood and death.
What made the girl witness 『Death』 there, was none other than her father's own will. Punishment casted upon the committed sins, evil deeds met their result through the means of evil deeds.
The father attempted to convey the rightful state of affairs he believed in, of the world's good and evil, as an executioner, to the child. It was a noble will, a pure ideology without question. However, keeping the mind the girl's youthfulness, it seemed to be conceited, since it was too early to seek ideals.
She saw the deaths of many with her own eyes, scented the odour of blood, and burnt the punishment casted upon sinners into her memory. As a result, before she could study in depth the value of life, and the principle of life and death, she instead learnt punishments befitting the sins. Benevolence gave birth to good cause, wrongdoings called upon roots of evil, the souls of sinners were corrupted, worthy of punishment.
Comprehending the teachings of her father through that interpretation, the woman desired the rightful state of affairs for 'Punishments Befitting the Sins'. For that she sought something which would become her guiding principle, the balance of virtue which would establish evil deeds as evil.
However, the balance which she sought, existed nowhere within her sphere of search. The good and evil of affairs had no simple answer, but the correction, sin and punishment possessed many factors determining them. Despite not having any tools to realize her goal, she never gave up.
She must obtain the answer. She must conceive the balance befitting good and evil in her heart. She must present the answer to the undissolving doubt present within the interior of her chest.
Days of agony continued, however, she gained the answer suddenly, as if a blessing had been granted to her from the heavens above. Shattering her father's vine cup, she was greatly frightened by the sin she had committed herself. Preparing herself to face beheading, the young girl confessed her own sin to her father.
"ーーSpeaking up your own sins, and apologizing for them is correct." Her father said as he gave her a smile, forgiving her for her errors. At the smile of her father and the sensation of his palm patting her head, the youthful girl came to understand: The balance for measuring the weight of the committed sin was nothing else, but present within the heart of the sinner himself.
Even if nobody lies witness to it, the heart of the sinner himself knows of his sin. Good and evil, she did not understand. They're complicated. Corrections, have no certain guidelines. They can't be found. However, the consciousness of the sin is within one's self.
There are no standards for punishments befitting the sins. However, the consciousness of sins deserving of punishments is within one's self. She understood, she was satiated, and finally obtained the balance. Remaining ignorant of the value of life, and the principle of the life and death of people, the youthful woman disclosed punishments befitting the sins.
Under the light of days the girl walked, learning through observation from her executioner father, for delivering punishments befitting the sins. For disclosing the hearts of those sinners, who had been judged worthy of punishment with the Authority of Pride at her disposal.
For her, the division of good and evil, corrections, sincerity and falsehood into two halves, was the natural order of things. As she asked the question to many people, some smiled, some were troubled, some were bewildered. "Are you a bad guy or a good guy?" It seemed like the most simplest question in the world, but why were most afraid of it?
The result of the answer to the woman's question, in the end, was the same for all: The sins worthy of punishment, lied within their selves.
She looked around. Nobody was there. There no longer was anyone present here, aside from the sinners who had received punishment. Trampling over the people who had been torn into tiny fragments, and finally over the fragments of her father, for the sake of fulfilling the longstanding desire bestowed upon her, the woman continued walking further, seeking sins worthy of punishment.
And so she continued on this lonely road towards her goal that never will be fulfilled due to its abstractness and her own naivety to understand the true meaning of sinning and living. Across her years, The『Witch of Pride』Typhon questioned sins, delivered punishment, and cast judgement upon sinners before finally reaching her downfall in the floodgates of the beautiful Water Gate City.
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Meanwhile within the Library of the Dead:
Subaru awoke with a start, pulling his own soul out of Typhon's Book of the Dead. The sheer detachment from his own body already felt weird, but add that to the sickening feeling of the Witch's miasma only made the situation worse.
Emilia rushed to his side as he fell down onto the floor, still stunned from the experience that he felt in the book. Coincidentally, this book detailed the life of a 'Witch', who was also now revived by none other than Y/N, who is unconscious.
Did he faint because he reversed death? Subaru wondered in his head. "But her book is still here, which means that this would technically be a... Volume 1?"
"Just now, your expression turned odd after touching this book..." Beatrice said as she bent over to pick the Book up, despite Subaru's yell of warning.
"Typhon. Is that someone Subaru knows, perhaps?"
At her name's mention, the Witch in question entered the scene, and smiled before looking down at the current problem.
"What's wrong, Baru? Do you need Typhon for something? It's okay, I know you're not a bad guy, so you don't need to worry."
Those innocently naive yet cruel words stabbed through Subaru's brain like needles, but he felt an urge to respond. "It might be better to see for yourself..."
Typhon then obliged and took the book up in her hand, before quickly skimming through the contents and closing it. "Hmm... so detailed. I wonder, Baru, do you understand me like Y/N does now?"
"Understand? I am nowhere near that! All in all, that was a crazy story to even begin! And what do you mean by like Y/N does? I thought his Pure Truth doesn't reveal the past..."
"It doesn't." Typhon responded. "Y/N's understanding of us is unique. I don't know how to describe it, but maybe... look past the veil of sins. I don't understand why you dislike me so much, Baru, especially when I wasn't as mean as Dona."
"You literally shattered my body into jigsaw pieces..."
"Yes, but that was not what I willed, was it? I wanted to know if you're a good guy or a bad guy. You weren't one, but you thought of yourself as one. You lacked the belief. In yourself." All of sudden, as Typhon's tone got progressively more serious, Subaru shivered for a moment.
"Keep on reading. Maybe you'll find another one of us! Dona is definitely interested in this place, as she is quite greedy. Look!" Typhon pointed to Omega, who literally sat in a chair of books while Sphinx fetched more for her.
"You guys are insane..." Subaru muttered. "But I suppose a Witch has to behave like a Witch... in the end..."
"Oh, Y/N. Just how and why did you manage to sway these insanities onto your side?"
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One down, six to go.
Next is Minerva-tan's. A door covered in craters and hearts, seems legit. Maybe all the natural disasters she caused was enough for it to imprint it onto her Book of the Dead.
I am 'entering' the Books of the Dead, right?
I directed my question to the voice of the examiner, who obviously did not respond. Sighing, I placed my hand on the handle, and stepped into the next story.
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There was a woman, all by herself. Sensitive to pain, she was always crying, always emotional.
The sole reason for her grief, was that she could not forgive her own lack of strength. All around her, was always a world full of strife, of violence, of war.
No matter how much she pleaded, no matter how much cried out, no matter how much she tried, no matter how much she prayed, the sorrow never ended. So, she began to curse fate.
While cursing it over and over and over, she noticed; It was pointless, no matter how many tears she shed. And when she realized, she began wishing for something else: raw power.
To obtain power that would let her throw all away, that would let her overwhelm all others, she struggled to her limits and ran, heading towards the power she so desired. She was not chasing after the power to harm, nor the power to take. She had no use for that.
She chased power no one could catch up to, which she believed she could use to put an end to violence.
The woman who cried so much, wanted the power to stop crying.
She knew she that if she remained powerless, she could never stop a fight where power was pitted against power. Her voice remained silent. Her wishes went unfulfilled. Even if her own sorrows were kept distant, sadness still clouded the sky.
How could they be okay? How could they hurt one another? How could they think to live with those scars? How, how, how? Why could they not realize they have other ways to live?
"Children are crying. The elderly are crying. Men are crying. Women are crying. Everyone is crying. Then, why――!!" She shouted, but her voice of reason went unheard just as always. To stop exactly that, she solely desired for power.
Training herself, she endured all pains to finally obtain an ironclad will. Eventually, she found the end of her path. The pinnacle of strength where none else could reach. Standing on the battlefield, she shouted to stop the fight.
To overwhelm all other powers with her own, to crush all grief, shatter all malice and to stop before her, the endless stream of tears, she struggled to her utmost. Punching those who brandished their swords, kicking those who flung magic, breaking those who bared their fangs, she pulverized all and any who came to seek battle.
But, the more the woman fought, the stronger became the swordsmen, the mages and the bearer of fangs, ever increasing their numbers. As if she had entered a never―ending spiral of violence.
No one knew how to save themselves other than to answer violence with violence. That was why, no one knew of a way to save themselves aside from victory in battle.
"Why――!!" She screamed at the sky in despair, since in the end, the woman herself, despite knowing this, also answered with violence. Lowering her fist that dripped crimson, she turned her blood-smeared face to the sky, and wailed.
The fighting would not stop. Her efforts, her hard work, all had been in vain; neither others nor her own tears would stop flowing. Finally, in the chest of the woman who had been ceaselessly running, despair crept in. Dripping down her cheeks, tears overflowed.
The tears that continuously streamed were not warm, but rather cold, the tears of someone powerless, drowning in despair. However, alongside them flowed out a different, deep emotion.
Dyeing her heart pitch black, her vision red and her mind white, a tempest awakened within. Face still wet with tears, the woman came to know of that emotion.
As she came to know its name, its origins, she came to understand it. She had not been shedding tears of sadness. She had merely been drowning in the madness of rage.
People called that emotion fury... no, they called it『Wrath』.
To this world that forced others to tears, to those who refuse to stop fighting, to the absurd unfairness that is the end of life. "Let them, have a taste of my iron fists."
At some point, she stood up, wiped the dirt off her knees, and took off running. Diving into the fray of the still ongoing battle, she punched everyone's faces whilst shouting. Stop fighting. Look at the sky. Feel the breeze. Smell the flowers. Live, with your families and loved ones.
For the first time, the woman's voice swept unrest throughout the battlefield. Fists that could break apart the Earth, kicks that could cause the heavens to roar, all only to let others live. Wounds closed, screams silenced and knees bent in the face of the spreading warmth as battle lost its meaning.
Soon the voices that weeped disappeared from the battlefield, life returned to the mundane. When the people's tears stopped, they felt gratitude towards her. They raised their voices, waved their hands and smiled.
However, the woman was suddenly no longer there.
That was only natural.
The woman still had things to do. She had no reason to turn back, no reason to stop walking. To fulfill her desire to create a world where no one cries, where there is no conflict, where no one has to take from one another, she ran, and ran, and kept running, as she threw around her fists.
She wished that was the end. But never could she have imagined herself that it was her own fists that brought people joy, brought people to realization on the meaning of life, took many others', stemming from the cursed power she was bestowed with.
Every time she healed someone, saved a life, another one dies, or perhaps tens of hundreds are lives are lost in another cataclysm of entropy. Although the hearts that healed we're grateful, more people despised her once they realized her deeds.
Nobody was there to give her a shoulder to lean on. Nobody shared her goal. All because that in their minds, nobody but her would do anything she did, so just leave the monster alone.
But she didn't care. She only had one goal, and she wasn't going to halt until the day everyone stops crying, until the day the warm droplets rolling down her cheeks stop.
Until she met her downfall in a trap laid for her using elf slaves and finally being slain by the Witch of Envy, the『Witch of Wrath』, Minerva, who had declared war on sadness itself, continued to run forever, towards her goal that she desired to achieve.
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"You know, now that I look back at it, her story was indeed pretty sad. A naive yet kind girl who simply wished goodwill and realization upon the people of the world... ending up as the person causing the most trouble for her own goal. If only she realized it sooner." Omega sighed as Subaru pulled himself out of his book, falling back onto the ground as he came face to face to the person he despised the most.
"What do you want, Echidna?" Subaru demanded. It wasn't exactly comforting to wake up right next to the witch. Emilia sat near him with a sour expression, since Echidna wasn't exactly the best in terms of personality.
"Nothing. I'm simply fulfilling a promise." Omega replied as she looked back to her books. "Before his consciousness went into a slumber, he told me to make sure you don't overexert yourself."
"But why are you exactly helping Y/N? I bet that you're simply trying to trick him into doing something bad. Even Typhon's on edge, you know?"
"I help Y/N because he helped me. In this past year, he has shown me much more than that clown and helped me progress relatively more than I have done in the past 150 years. He's a valuable resource, one that I have decided to keep to myself... anyways, my greed is being satisfied quite well..." Omega said as she rubbed her belly, and Subaru's eyes widened in disbelief.
"No, you didn't..."
"Of course not! You're so naive, it kills me!" Omega laughed with all her heart, absolutely amused with the boy. "You're so gullible. You have definitely matured since our last formal meeting, but... you lack the ability to see past what's simply provided. Maybe the Watchtower will aid you in that."
"Typhon said something similar, telling me to 'look past the veil of sins'. What exactly is there to look past?"
"Our facades and all the rumours about our existence, of course. All our behaviours, and all of our words. We're not lying in any way, don't you worry, but what I mean is... I cannot say this for myself, but throughout the year with Y/N... I learned that us Witches never had the easiest lives in the world. Not from birth, not after death, and not now. We stuck with Y/N because he made the attempt to understand us. Never thought someone would care for a witch, did you?"
Omega's words left a bitter yet surprising imprint on Subaru as he pondered her last words before heading off to find more books.
"In summary... all of us would've been better if we just had someone to lean on, someone to tell our troubles to, and someone to care for us as if we were normal. It probably is too much to ask, but... maybe after you learn the truth, Natsuki Subaru, perhaps you might see things differently. Even if you don't... maybe at least you'll know our pain, our world, and our legacies that went untold. Happy reading, then."
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Y/N POV
Blech.
Minerva-tan's story was heart sickening.
I mean, such a noble cause, only to be executed in a bad way. That, and her liability to easily be fooled as well as her mistake of confusing sadness with wrath. And how she died, too...
I need to give her a hug when I return to the Castle of Dreams next time.
But for now, I need to dive into the third story.
A heavy weight fell on my shoulders as I approached the door. It wasn't gravity. It was simply a force... a burden. Along with the absolutely dreadful choice in colour, I recognized this as Sekhmet's story.
The original owner of my second Witch Factor. I'm very curious now.
Allow me to embrace your tale.
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There was a woman, all by herself.
Oppression, a word that slammed down upon her, was caused by her family, her clan, by her race who should have loved her. All saw her with disdain, all ostracized her.
Prior to being born, expectations were laid upon that woman. Alas, her birth turned her traitor to them. What remained was dejection and disappointment, what bestowed upon her was only scorn and ridicule. Those were the sole possessions of the woman.
There existed a dearest wish of her clan. To bring back the symbol of their former glory and prosperity, the second coming of their founder whom they called god. All kinds of secret arts and all types of inhumane atrocities, unfathomable, the number of taboos committed, all of its fruits was the woman.
However, the birth of that woman betrayed their dearest wish, and the clan abandoned the woman with disappointment and despair.
"Go somewhere and live and die. For that is your sin." They said to her. Being a mere fledgling out of the nest, and abandoned by her family, by her race, she was released into the fields as a child.
Cast away with no means of survival, the child was not supposed to survive. However, even if she lacked means of survival, she possessed the strength to survive.
Ironically enough, it was the feast of what betrayed the dearest wish of the clan, the taboos and offences they had committed. Unknown to words, lacking all wisdom, merely abiding by her instincts, the woman survived to live a long life in the fields.
Killing beasts, sipping on their lifeblood, crawling on the earth, tasting muddy water. Before a long time passed, the child became a young girl, the young girl became a woman, and it became difficult to live in the fields.
Hearing the rumours of a woman laying waste to the mountains as if it were a beast, men aimed for that life, and the woman was captured. The captured woman appeared beautiful, the men abstained from taking away her life, and the woman was proceeded to be kept by them.
Losing the indispensability of struggling to survive, exposed to the desires of the men, days of merely living. Eventually the woman, upon the bed, came to acquire things unacquainted from the men.
Words, wisdom, way of life, and emotions. Eventually her treatment altered, conferred with things to adorn her body, the woman was treated like a precious jewel.
Among those days, the woman embraced queer thoughts for the men. Whether that was something resembling gratitude or obligation, the woman then had no lead to understand that.
While embracing those thoughts, the woman snapped the necks of all the men dwelling in the residence. Easily, in one breath, without making them suffer, in an instant, grouping them all together, she consigned them to oblivion.
Sneaking away from the residence, proceeding towards the fields, lacking all doubt, the woman returned to her own hometown. The woman attained queer thoughts regarding the race residing there, the clan possessing the same blood as her, the people who had bodies distantly larger than hers.
That they were feelings of hatred and desire for revenge, the woman then did not realise. Merely, their weeps and wails, voices begging for forgiveness were quite thrilling. For the first time, the woman smiled from her heart.
"Fall apart here and die an unsightly death. Because that is your sin, you see."
For the sake of attaining that felicity, from one after the other, the woman pulverised the dearest wish of her race, her blood relatives, her clan by herself. Politely and courteously, not leaving a single one, not sparing a single one, taking her time, one by one, with certainty.
Before long, when all of her race died out, when anything and everything had come to an end, the woman returned to the residence where she had lived with the men. Though she had abandoned the corpses of her race, she buried all of the corpses of the men courteously.
And once merely she alone was left in the residence, the woman took a deep, deep breath. That was relaxation, tranquility, the woman, for the first time, experienced utter bliss.
Nobody would interfere with her now. Thinking and taking action, both lay in futility, so she will merely fall asleep.
The 『Witch of Sloth』, Sekhmet, continued to indulge in everlasting inactivity, untiring peace.
She continued on her path of never-ending desire for peace and quiet, same as the others' burning wishes that went unheard. She crushed anything that came for revenge: the people who found out that the men are dead, last remains of the giants, artillery and even fortresses that dared to disturb her slumber.
Finding even breathing to be a pain and finally reaching the epitome of laziness, she laid on the rocks near the Great Waterfall, and her final challenger came.
Completely unable to tolerate her actions any longer, the Divine Dragon Volcanica finally made its move. On the western corner of the world, directly south of the Jimuna Volcano, the fateful battle occurred: The Witch of Sloth vs the Divine Dragon.
She put up an extremely great fight. As she can be counted as one of the most powerful beings to exist. As the second strongest of the Witches of Sin, Sekhmet possessed her Authority of Sloth, capable of manipulating invisible forces that demolished everything in their way. It was due to this that she was able to drive Volcanica beyond the Waterfall, and continued to pummel him even then.
However, due to her negligence, her goal to extinguish Volcanica was interrupted when she stepped into the water and walked straight off the edge, falling to her death. In the end, perhaps that was the peace and quiet she had forever wished to achieve, and to her, she simply wished she found it sooner.
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"Sekhmet's tale was interesting, to say the least. It wasn't exactly eventful, since she was the Witch of Sloth and all... but..."
I have to agree she was probably hated later on by the rest of the world for destroying practically anything that annoyed her, similar to how Regulus annihilated Garkla. However, Sekhmet's motive was more reasonable, but all in all it doesn't condemn her actions.
I hope the pillow I gave her is helping. But the most important thing is to probably tell her that there are other ways to find rest other than demolishing everything... I suppose.
Okay, next door. I'm still a little woozy from that last one.
A door covered in ornate design... with bones? I'm going to assume it's Daphne. Still need to re-educate everyone on how it's she who created the mabeasts, not Satella.
Lettuce begin. (A/N: why this? Cuz it's Daphne. If u don't get it... eh... then don't get it)
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There was a woman, all by herself.
The woman's spirit had been violated. The woman lay deep in the abyss of insanity. The woman was standing upon the farthest land of starvation. Growling in the solitary castle, gnawing the unoccupied throne, breaking her teeth, ripping up her mouth, starving. Hunger alone was not enough to describe her state of being.
The woman had been a human when she was born, but at that point in time, she no longer remained human. It all began a few years ago, when the man governing those lands fell victim to an incurable illness.
Weakening by the day, the man, frightened of his approaching death, stretched his hands to all kinds of means in order to prolong his life. Before long he attained techniques which were taboo, and gathered a large number of lives for an outrageous immorality for the purpose of attaining a long life.
Abundantly, lives were sacrificed, abundantly, lives were rendered idle, and among those sacrifices was the woman. Who she was, what her name was, what her birthplace was, who her family was, such memories of hers had already been burnt away.
She was merely a tool. A seedbed, for the man merely awaiting his death, having been eaten away by the demon of ill health. Idle lives only to be wasted, that was how it was supposed to be, yet the woman survived.
A body ruined, power gushing forth, the lamp of a life ostracized by what is called time. The hopes, dearest wishes of the man trespassed by the demon of ill health, materialised upon the woman's body.
The man was delighted at the fruits of his labour, postponing the memorial for those sacrificed, overbearingly unfastened the woman's constraints.
When she came to notice, the woman was alone, in the uninhabited solitary castle, anguishing and suffering with starvation.
Thoughts disappearing with cruel hunger, memories devoured into a void by violent thirst.
She had nothing in her memories. She had nothing within her understanding. Merely, her entire body had constraints, so she possessed no freedom either.
Eating away all food within the castle, vomiting out the content of her stomach, chewing and digesting them once again, she continued to repeat.
Ultimately for what remained of her starvation, she bit into the stone walls, crunched the throne, ate the carpets.
At that pace, she would starve to death. Her body, which cannot die, would starve to death. "Grrgrr, grrrr. Grrgrr, grrrr......"
At the extremity of starvation unable to obtain trance, the woman finally saw an illusion. Inside the solitary castle, bustling about with wilful freedom was a horde of dogs clad in beastial hair. Unbeknownst to her, the Witch Factor of Gluttony had already planted its roots deep inside her body, and there was no stopping it now.
Even if it was a hallucination, she did not mind. If she was unable to be satiated physically, she desired to satisfy merely her heart. With such wholeheartedness the woman crawled, devouring the beasts, not leaving even a single bone behind.
She was being satisfied. The following instant, she vomited. She licked what had been vomited. She chewed. Vomited, ate. In the illusion, in the mirage, in the hallucination, in her desire, there was taste. She could feel it on her tongue.
When she came to notice, the interior of the castle had become a den of repulsive beasts, much to her delight. Buried in days of eating and getting eaten, she was satisfied after she ate, and she vomited after she was satisfied.
Stuck between starvation and refusing food, the woman ate and vomited, slurped and spilled. Given birth to by the empty skiesーー no, given rebirth to, were the beasts with a repulsive presence.
Before she noticed, the woman's constraints were exposed to the battle for devouring between the beasts and her, came loose, and she was freed. Attaining freedom, the woman crawled, exited the castle.
The beasts as well, following the woman, exited the castle. Upon the earth, in all directions, they scattered around. Hunger, starvation, unable to endure them, the woman devoured, and kept the castle she had grown tired of eating for later. The same traits followed her creations, also devouring everything and anything they saw.
To visit it, when the day of the satisfaction of her hunger and thirst arrives. The 『Witch of Gluttony』 , Daphne, gave birth to the horde of Witch Beasts, and continued to starve from inexhaustible starvation. For the next decades to come, she would continue eating everything in her path, always straining so close yet so far from her goal, before finally perishing in the sea of sand and failing to defeat her ultimate opponent.
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SH-PING
My consciousness rang with a weird, tinkling sound as I was jolted back to the plane of existence with only 2 doors left.
"My head feels horrible... it seems that I also experience part of the pain that the memory shows...oh, my stomach's rumbling but I'm not actually hungry, goddammit..."
"Daphne suffered much more than me and so did the others... the least I could do is understand part of their pain. But either way, having the lessened burdens of four witches' pasts on me is still taking quite the toll. I need... to rest..."
With those words, I fell down onto the smooth marble floor.
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??? POV
Dammit.
Dammit Dammit Dammit.
"We failed. We failed! It was very close though. If Onii-san was awake for ten more seconds, the transportation would've been complete. Bah, and after all this time I was inflicting Gluttony on him, have now gone to waste..."
The girl stomped her foot in slight anger against the ground, sending a ripple to travel across the corridor of memories.
"No matter. Once we take Onii-san's powers, and his memories, we can conquer the individual Natsuki Subaru. And when we do, death will be finally out of the question."
The girl let out a shrill laugh as her goals went unheard while the team still read books in the Library of the Dead.
The clock is ticking, nii-samas, so take care of your meals quickly and come aid your cute sister, okay?