2
—The battle that would decide the fate of the city of water—the simultaneous assault on all four control towers—had begun.
Relying on all the information they had gathered, both actively and accidentally, the fighting forces of each camp gathered themselves into their various units and set off for their respective targets, leaving those who remained behind at the base to wait with bated breath for reports of victory.
Or at least, that was the unpleasant fate to which Otto Suwen would have liked to resign himself, but it was not to be.
Instead, he had left city hall alone and was stealthily running around a city roiling with danger around every bend.
“I should be stoppin’ ya, but I can’t deny wanting to be sure about where the book of knowledge they were wanting actually is— You drew the short end of the stick this time, Otto.”
That was what Anastasia had said when she saw him off back at city hall.
She would have preferred that Otto stay put, and she probably had wanted to use him as another set of eyes to analyze the reports that would be filtering in from the battlefield.
With the group at city hall taking the command role for this battle, the more eyes and more heads the better. But Otto had a personal responsibility when it came to the book of knowledge. They were working together with the other factions, but if the situation somehow managed to actually be resolved, it would become a competition again, and he had to avoid any chance the other camps might get their hands on the book of knowledge.
If he was being honest, he would have preferred not discussing exactly what sort of magical book it was in front of everyone else, either, but Subaru and Garfiel were not fond of that sort of covert politicking.
Feeling like he was the bad guy for some reason, Otto heaved a sigh.
“When did I end up becoming the sort of person to run all around like this for other people’s sakes…?”
Adjusting his hat, Otto ran into a question that he’d struggled with countless times during the past year. His position was unexpected, his relationship to other people was unexpected, and his own feelings were unexpected.
What would his family think if they saw him running all around with nary a thought about how to turn a profit from it?
“Even Oslo would probably make fun of me, let alone Regin…”
Imagining his older and younger brothers’ differing reactions, Otto curled his lips slightly into a wry smile.
Slipping into an emotional train of thought that Subaru, were he there, would surely start raising alarms about triggering death flags and whatnot, Otto ran through the narrow streets of the city, on guard against demi-beasts.
The malformed and grotesque creatures were guarding the control towers being occupied by the Archbishops and were incredibly threatening to any noncombatants wandering the city. But they could be managed with enough caution. That was something Otto had learned during his time out in the city before he joined up with everyone else at city hall.
Because of that, the danger he faced was minimal. If he could not demonstrate the pride of a member of the team who couldn’t fight directly in battle now, who knew when he would get another chance?
“…Heh, would have been nice if I could have at least tricked myself.”
He clutched his chest, and Otto’s expression melted into a self-deprecating laugh as he felt just how badly his heart was racing.
The Witch Cult, Archbishops, cultists—they were all things tied to terrifying memories for Otto. The events that had led to his meeting Subaru and everyone else a year earlier were just the flip side of how he had almost lost his life. He could not forget the fear he’d felt toward the Archbishop then, no matter how he tried. He could not forget the Archbishop of Sloth’s sunken, dark eyes in the moment he’d thoughtlessly stolen away someone else’s life. He would never forget the image of the mad fanatics who’d offered up their own flesh in accordance with his orders without any thought of pain or suffering. He could not forget the silence that had filled the world around him as he pleaded for someone, anyone to help him.
He had never been more terrified than in that moment. He had never feared the void as he had then. Facing off against Garfiel, running away from the Bowel Hunter, and being attacked by a mob of demon beasts all paled in comparison.
—That was how dark a pall the encounter with the Witch Cult had cast on Otto’s heart.
And yet, there was no mistaking that he would have to face that fear again. He had chosen of his own volition a place to call home where he would surely have to face the Cult again.
He could not just leave Emilia, Subaru, Beatrice, Garfiel, Ram, Frederica, and Petra alone—Otto cared about all of them.
He had never intended to stay in any one place, and yet somewhere along the line it had just become too comfortable. Even knowing he would encounter the enemy that terrified him the most, he could not abandon his home. If it would protect that place he called home, if they needed him to stand beside them, then he would stifle his fear and support them in all the ways they could not support themselves.
Because of that—
“No matter what it takes, I have to take care of my job myself.”
His words were to reinforce his fearful heart and also a warning for the enemy to hear.
When Otto stopped moving, there was a small figure standing in front of him.
There was a stone bridge over a canal just ahead, and on the other side was a plaza, where the small figure was standing. There were actually several figures in the plaza, but in the moment, Otto’s attention was focused on a single one standing in the midst of them.
The world grew quiet. Painfully so. He could not hear anything at all. The voices of living creatures fell silent as they desperately tried to hide their presences and blend into the background.
Otto Suwen knew that feeling. And because he recognized it, his heart was surprisingly, truly, astonishingly calm, even as the figure before him slowly lowered its arms and its long mess of brown hair and turned around.
“—Hello, mister.”
The figure’s lips cracked sinisterly as it flashed a terrifying grin.
“—I am Lye Batenkaitos, the Witch Cult Archbishop of Gluttony. Welcome to my feeding ground!”
His red tongue danced inside his toothy mouth as the Archbishop who should not have been there cackled.
—Another unexpected life-and-death battle begins for a noncombatant as well.
<END>
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