It felt strange, no denying that. In the peaceful capital of Lugunica, where uniformed soldiers blended into the daily scene, patrolling the streets like clockwork, this was different—an abnormality that caught everyone's attention.
The locals, caught up in their daily routines, couldn't help but pause, sharing subtle glances that conveyed more than words could. The air held a quiet tension, as if the woman's presence had woven an unseen thread of uncertainty through the heart of the city.
The rhythmic symphony of footsteps and distant traffic seemed to soften, acknowledging her arrival. Heads turned, conversations hushed, and the ebb and flow of the crowd subtly adjusted to satisfy the curiosity she stirred. Some stole glances with questioning eyes, while others unabashedly locked onto her, their fascination plain to see.
Who was she? The curiosity of the locals knew no bounds. Female knights were practically unheard of at this point, so they stared unapologetically. Yet, amidst it all, the slow, rhythmic cadence of armor clanking echoed with each purposeful step she took.
Each footfall brought the distinct sound of boots meeting the ground, the subtle jingle of mail intertwining with the solid thud of armored soles. The metallic resonance, clear and authoritative, spoke of the weight she carried both in armor and purpose.
It was a sound that commanded attention, a declaration of her indomitable presence, and a message that instilled fear in the hearts of the weak.
A woman, obscured by scars and burns that adorned her face like battle-worn trophies, held a gaze that spoke volumes of both sorrow and indomitable strength. Hints of determination and an unyielding spirit flickered within the crevices of her weathered countenance. As she moved, the liquid silver of the chainmail whispered secrets known only to the shadows, a delicate mystery trailing in her wake.
The articulated gold-colored steel of her gauntlets bore intricate patterns, an ode to craftsmanship that merged elegance with lethality. Each finger, encased in its metallic sheath, seemed poised to wield both grace and power. The sheathed sword at her side, a relic with a mangled hilt, exuded an air of quiet anticipation, eager to be unsheathed and recount the tales within its tempered blade.
In the eerie half-light, she cast a spell of enigma upon those who beheld her. It was as if the very essence of shadows had been woven into her being, an ethereal manifestation of mystery that left an indelible mark on the minds of those who witnessed her passage. The Lugunicans, in later recounting the event, would recall the singular image of her long, frazzled red hair and the cape that defiantly endured the wind's tumultuous whispers. Her silhouette, etched against the feeble glow, lingered as a haunting reminder of a presence that transcended the boundaries of mortal understanding.
But what baffled them the most was that she was carrying a bag of groceries.
On the brink of the evening sunset, she materialized under the serene glow of yellow through the crowd of hustling civilians and disappeared from their sights just as quickly.
Why was she here? Call it a stroke of mere coincidence, a happenstance in a person's life that seemed odd but was bound to occur in the grand scheme of things.
—or at least, that was the reality spoken into existence.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※
It was odd.
Subaru's head quaked as he tried to imagine in his head what could have possibly gone wrong for this situation to happen. He'd done everything the same as before; every step, every breath, every conversation. Hell, he even killed dumb, dumber, and dumbest again. If everything was perfect, the loop wouldn't have changed—so, why did it?
Time itself seemed to freeze as he gazed upward at the top of the staircase with a placid expression. At the entrance to the backstreets stood a single short girl clad in armor.
She stood there silently, eerily cool-headed, her expression unwavering as her eyes met his.
A carriage drawn by one of those monolith-sized lizards broke the silence as it zoomed past her.
"You are Subaru, right?"
As her lips parted to speak, Subaru found himself momentarily entranced, his gaze fixated on the burned flesh and scars that adorned her face and body.
Her long, unkempt red hair tumbled down her chest in an untamed cascade, framing features that bore no hint of softness. Instead, her eyes, determined and sharp, spoke volumes of resilience with just a fleeting gaze, leaving an indelible mark on his soul.
Standing there silently awaiting his answer, she taunted him with her gaze like a hawk eyeing its prey from a level far beyond its capabilities.
But what anchored his stare to hers wasn't her sex appeal but the story etched within her appearance.
He was never into stern women, but for some reason, at that very moment, he thought she was a beautiful girl.
"Did you kill these people?" She spoke once more, furrowing her brow as she scowled at the weapon in his left hand.
Her voice came out more like a hiss than anything remotely lady-like.
"Oh," Subaru hadn't realized how much more peculiar it was that he hadn't considered what he'd just done seconds ago. Larry, Dick, and Tom—what nuisances they were even after their deaths.
It'd been simply a matter of retracing his steps. Their deaths didn't mean anything more than letting the timeline take the same course it did in the past.
If he wanted to relinquish the shackles of this seemingly unending loop, he couldn't afford another encounter with Elsa. Whether it was a twist of fate or a deliberate confrontation, repeating the same steps would, at the very least, offer him insights on where to divert his path in this relentless journey.
Subaru harbored a deep sense that enduring another brutal demise at Elsa's hands would cost him something vital, something beyond the physical wounds inflicted.
The repetition of death, each demise seemingly devoid of purpose, wore on him. He wasn't a hero, and the prospect of perishing without even safeguarding his own life threatened to extinguish the flicker of motivation that still burned within him.
Killing the three of them was a low price for his future.
He stared down at his surroundings, took a whiff of the strong stench in the air, gripped the knife in his hand—looted from his hard-earned NPC kill. She'd seen it all, and the air, thick with tension and the acrid scent of violence, seemed to echo with the weight of the heinous act that had unfolded.
Three lifeless bodies lay in grotesque repose, their vacant eyes staring into the abyss. The pallor of their skin, drained of vitality, accentuated the brutality of their demise. Limbs contorted in unnatural angles, frozen in the agony of their final moments, painted a grim portrait of horror.
"This?" Subaru pointed.
A suffocating silence enveloped the scene.