Re:Zero Kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu - Volume 4 - Chapter 108

CHAPTER 108: A MAN OF ONLY GOOD TIMING 

Mana concentrates at the tip of the wand, the canto overwriting the world— 

Whistling wind turns to blades, blades tear toward the entity standing in their eye, and as they burst —they splay their destruction in every which direction. 

Garfiel: “—hk!” 

The eye of the storm—the one standing in the path of the surging blades is Garfiel, looking up, roaring. The blades beat Garfiel's torso, their sharp edges slicing away at his rocklike abdominals. Blood spills. His failure to be bisected results from his speedy leap away from the maelstrom. 

Between the options of counterattack and evade, Garfiel immediately opted to run. Although some hesitation arises at the corner of his eye, Garfiel manages to avoid fatal injury by covering his head with his arms, sliding over the ground to flee the blades of wind. 

But these were blades launched as a surprise attack, fired to dictate the end of the fight. The wind does not permit Garfiel any easy escape as it vigorously pursues his retreat. He kicks off the ground, clicking his tongue at the invisible slashes. 

Garfiel: “Th'fucking cheek—!” 

Immediately following his extreme backtracking, Garfiel yells as he meets the oncoming windblades head-on. He drives his heel into the earth, caving the ground in beneath him, his foot the axle for a rectangular section of earth to slant upwards and spring into the air. The windblades surging in from below strike the ground, annihilating the earth's face before dispersing. 

The floating platform obeys gravity as it crashes to the floor, kicking up thick clouds of dirt. An ordinary person would, faced with this incredible scene, surely be struck dumb and paralysed. But this was not an ordinary person, and this was not be their first time witnessing Garfiel do this. 

???: “Hauh!” 

Garfiel: “Ch!” 

Tearing through the plumes of dust, leaping forth with her short skirt fluttering is a girl. Beneath her evenly-cut pink hair, her cerise eyes gleam with strong volition. Enough mana exudes from the tip of her wand to warp the atmosphere, this being the origin point for an outstretched, unseen blade of wind. 

It extends to greater length than one glance would suggest, handled with precision befitting a maestro of wind manipulation. Contrary to the inherent vagueness of a blade of wind, these slashes exhibited keenness superior to that of any half-hearted sword-blade. Garfiel had readied his claws at his hips for a counterattack, but indeed even he would find the comparison between claws and sword unfavourable. 

Still poised to attack and having retreated, Garfiel prepares to jump to flee further back. But the  wand-wielding Ram's free left hand interrupts him. 

Ram: “Fula!” 

Garfiel: “Ghhk!?” 

A short canto. A strike from the lowest class of wind magic. The attack beats Garfiel's back from behind, keeping him from taking the preparatory step to run. It inflicts no damage. But, it does stop him. Garfiel's gaze as he looks up lands on Ram, her already brandishing her blade— 

Garfiel: “—” 

What would be best to do here? Before he can consider the thought, Garfiel's body moves. His claws and fangs, his natural armaments, will not be capable of meeting the blade of wind. Considering how he's been outmanoeuvred, dodging it will be tough as well. Which leaves only one option. 

Garfiel: “RrrhhhhHHHAAAAAAAA!!” 

Roaring, Garfiel slams his palms to catch the point of the invisible sword flat between his hands. While it may look like he has stopped the sword, when practising this move upon an incorporeal and invisible blade, the action would amount to no defence. But, even being a blade of wind, the thing certainly did EXIST. Garfiel's palms as they slam down disrupt the sword's edge, and his skin which would have been torn to shreds instead gets away with only a laceration. 

The attack's been neutralized, judges Ram, belatedly. 

Garfiel: “Fucking 'round with me!” 

His launching kick aims for Ram's abdomen, her having just made touchdown. Garfiel's foot drills through the air, practically enough to break through boulders—but it will not strike Ram, who stoops her posture down low to dodge. Her stance degenerates so much that she may as well be sleeping on the ground as she reforms her windblade, aiming a slash for Garfiel's foot. 

Garfiel: “—hgg!” 

One-footed, Garfiel leaps to avoid this attack liable to sever his limb from the ankle down. He succeeds in dodging Ram's blade, but, 

Ram: “Your feet stopped touching the ground.” 

Immediately following this whisper as it grazes past his ear, a heel slammed down from above sends Garfiel plummeting toward the ground. This offbeat attack came from Ram, who dove out of her post-swing stance, launching herself and her leg out forward while rotating on the vertical. Midair and unable to neutralize the attack, Garfiel immediately draws his arms up to protect himself. His bones creak as he is shunted away, ricocheting off the earth to crash to a stop against a  tree-trunk. 

His breath escapes him as he glares at Ram, his eyes golden and furious. However, 

Ram: “Ul Fula.” 

There congregates, apt to crush a region of the forest, an overwhelming windstorm—with Garfiel in its centre as it ravages both him and woodland alike. 

Garfiel: “Ghhah—agh!” 

The raging wind strikes Garfiel, slices him, tosses him, smashes him against the dismantled foliage. He is flung so thoroughly he cannot discern up from down, left from right. Having separated from the ground, Garfiel lacks any way to protect himself, capable only of being beaten by Ram's magic. 

The wind stops, the sole aftermath of the storm being Garfiel, barely managing to stand upright. But blood covers him as he gazes skyward. He falls to his knees, his consciousness halfway gone. 

He had been thrown into perfect traps, and taken two hits from extreme tiers of magic. The very fact that he was still alive illustrated his dumbfounding, shockingly great vitality. Although it was because his opponents anticipated such liveliness that they neglected any mercy. 

Confirming the damage on Garfiel, Ram gives a small sigh. She directs her gaze to Otto, him having watched the surprise attack from behind. 

Ram: “I already anticipated this, but it truly is difficult to lay eyes on you, with how graceless you look.” 

Otto: “Spoken to someone who put all their heart and soul into fighting, that opinion surely has to be unjustified...” 

Ram: “All that everything is is the results. Did your efforts succeed, or not succeed? The process to reach the result is secondary... and so I will say it again. You look so graceless it is difficult to lay eyes on you.” 

Otto: “Auuh, she's merciless, truly. ...This is exactly who Natsuki-san described.” 

Ram shows Otto not a speck of appreciation for his efforts, instead giving him a slight snort as he smiles wryly. The damage to Garfiel resultant from his fight with Otto was rather considerable. Leaving aside the tricky and incessant traps' provocation of him, that final strike did come with enough strength to conceivably defeat Garfiel. But if Otto had made any miscalculation, it would be, 

Ram: “It seems you didn't remove Garf's EARTHSOUL BLESSING.” 

Otto: “Earthsoul... pardon?” 

Ram gives a small sigh. She shakes her head in astonishment, looks down at the confused Otto with  a gaze of absolute disdain, and sighs again. 

Otto: “How much disappointment are you going to show? Since I have to say that this does hurt!” 

Ram: “Garf's EARTHSOUL BLESSING literally means a blessing where he receives the blessings of the earth. Provided that his foot is touching the ground, a powerful aegis of dirt encases his body. — And even were it not, earth magic's affinity here is abysmal. Your ace was an Al-class spell, and then it just had to be Dona...” 

Putting her hand to her forehead, Ram closes her eyes as she looks down. 

Ram: “Your luck is so poor, I cannot even feel sympathetic.” 

Otto: “So my misfortune detonated again even at this juncture, terrifying! Or actually, if you were aware of this beforehand, Ram-san, don't you think you would have contributed notably more to the effort if you had just informed me!?” 

Ram: “Ram-sama, surely?” 

Otto: “Why is it that everyone has to try kicking me down to the absolute lowest stratum!?” 

Ignoring Otto as he raves, Ram swishes the tip of her wand as she heads out to deal with Garfiel. He truly should be unconscious, but Garfiel's limitless stamina merits admiration. The greatest obstacle for liberating SANCTUARY is unmistakably him. He must be restrained immediately, and kept under strict supervision until matters are resol— 

Ram: “...” 

Stopping in her approach, Ram's brows furrow slightly. Her pursed lips feel the dry air, her red tongue peeking out for merely a glimpse. 

Ram: “Garf.” 

Garfiel: “...Goddamn swear. Really truly a merciless lady, you are.” 

Garfiel raises his slumped head in response to Ram's call. His sharp eyes blaze with indignation and hostility, his teeth bare and rattling, illustrating that his will to fight has not waned. 

The surprise attack had supposedly been perfect. It could not have possibly been better. But even that is not enough to defeat the monster known as Garfiel Tinzel. 

Unfathomable quantities of blood pour from Garfiel, but he easily flits to his feet in a manner that suggests no great fatigue or damages. Everything the windblade and storm had done to him was entirely superficial. The lacerations covering his skin are shallow, and the relentless beating had missed any vital areas. Not a single speck of damage to decisively impair his usual condition had hit him. 

Garfiel: “When y'had me pressed against the tree, and cast that spell, I thought I was absolutely done for. Wound up for that one instant thinkin' like crazy, tryin' t'figure out what t'do. But I couldn't  come up with any damn ideas at all... n'so I stopped thinking.” 

He stopped fussing with his tiresome thoughts, instead entrusting his body to evade for him. His instincts had greedily elected to survive, magnificently operating his body so that he suffered minimal damages through the unavoidable storm. This was the fruition of his racial instinct as a fighting creature. 

The fighting sense is enough that even expressionless Ram gives a slight gulp. Ram boasted that even should her fundamental ability be lower than another's, her nature meant she always made the better choices. It was rare that she so experienced anyone on par with herself. While she thought there no necessity to say anything at this moment, her opponent was Garfiel. That was one of the factors contributing to the inexpressible emotion inside Ram. 

Garfiel: “Say, Ram. Why're you teamin' with him? What's gone'n made y'do that?” 

Ram: “—” 

Garfiel: “Y'do know, right? You teamin' with him means y'support th'plot t'free this SANCTUARY. Ain't that goin' against that prick Roswaal's will? That asshole... well at least, right now he shouldn't want SANCTUARY freed.” 

Ram: “Do you mean to speak as if you understand Roswaal-sama while in my presence, Garf? We've known each other for a long time, so surely you would know? That I would never pay heed to such form of blather.” 

Garfiel: “I know full well yer stubborn. N' I like it n'fell for you. N' so that's why my amazin' self can't agree with this. If yer not givin' up yer principles of Roswaal Supremacy, why're yer teamin' with them? I don't get how they coaxed you.” 

Ram closes her eyes. It is rare for Ram's lips to tremble like this, for her to visibly be withstanding some style of emotion. Garfiel's eyes widen, but Ram's expression disperses like mist after only an instant. 

Ram: “I... I am acting in the way I believe most meaningful in regards to my wish. That's all.” 

Garfiel: “Yer wish... that is?” 

Ram: “Naturally, the fulfilment of Roswaal-sama's deepest desire. —And nothing other.” 

Garfiel gives a deep sigh. Ram possessed no further inclination to speak with Garfiel about the contradiction between her actions and intentions. Nobody could understand Ram's feelings. That is, excluding the single man who had noticed her core disposition, and called for her like this— 

Ram: “He truly is an aggravating man, that Barusu. ...Not that even I understand why that is.” 

Ram harboured an indescribable feeling of aggravation when it came to Subaru. Call it visceral repulsion, or antipathy fostered over their time spent interacting, for the feeling probably did include such sentiments—but Ram inevitably had to think that this was ingrained in something deeper. 

Almost as if he were a detested foe, who had stolen something precious from her—that kind of baffling emotion was what Ram felt for Subaru. 

Ram nevertheless agreed to Subaru's invitation. His proposal shook things connected to her heart's deepest core to that incredible extent. 

Ram: “Surely you'll have recovered enough to stand?” 

Otto: “Y-you truly are rough in your treatment... I'm sure no one would punish you if you could please cast just a little healing magic on me...” 

Ram: “Do relax. Healing magic is outside my abilities. As there had never been necessity for me to learn it.” 

Otto: “I have never seen a maid so little associated with recuperation before!” 

Wailing, Otto taxes his shaking legs as he manages to stand. His body sways dizzily, the nosebleed finally over. Standing up obviously did not make him quantifiable as any combat force. But seeing how Otto's will to fight has failed to wane, Garfiel gives an annoyed snort. 

Garfiel: “Y'goddamn... was pretty sure our last bout told yer full well there's nothin' y'can do. Ain't you seen how damn lively my amazin' self is after y'used yer ace? Be a loser 'bout givin' up and it makes yer less of a man, oi.” 

Otto: “Unfortunately, I do not ever remember forfeiting my deviousness to any degree that would allow me to accept surrender. I'll strive to be bankrupt; if I still have a body, I can still run. Or at least that's what I imagine my friend would say here, right as he'd move to start running.” 

Garfiel: “...'gain with that pissant.” 

Garfiel clicks his tongue at Otto's word: FRIEND. 

Garfiel: “How can yer trust so much in that all-talk asshole? He ain't got any real power. No ability either. He can get his tongue working, n' that's goddamn it. 'S a guy like that any bastard worth helpin', huh?” 

Otto: “Worth, really does invite question. Presently Natsuki-san may lack it.” 

Garfiel: “...eh?” 

Otto: “But the future will be different.” 

Garfiel tilts his head at the unexpected reply, while Otto's grin intensifies. He had exhausted his stamina and had spent himself on much labour for his tactics, but neverminding the nigh absolute absence of hope, Otto speaks with not a speck of unease. 

Otto: “It's because I am a merchant. I don't think it sounds such a bad deal, to try placing an investment in someone liable to greatly benefit me in the future. You see, I feel that with Natsuki¬san... just maybe and just possibly, he might perpetrate something huge.” 

Garfiel: “—” 

Otto: “But that comes with the condition that he musn't be smothered here. And so just what flowers will bloom from the sprout Natsuki-san is, and what expensive a thing will they be? ...My role is perhaps to prune him and cast away the insects.” 

He truly does cost a lot of time and effort, says Otto's wry smile as he scratches his head. Hearing this, Ram gives a bored sigh. 

Ram: “Honestly, I cannot tell whether there's anything about Barusu that'd merit that impression. That he's weak, useless, cannot brew a proper cup of tea and incompetent is something on which I agree with Garf.” 

Otto: “Overstatements are... per, haps not the case here.” 

Ram: “But Barusu is a man with strangely good timing when it matters.” 

Ignoring Otto as he timidly attempts to support Subaru, Ram makes her assertion. The men tilt their heads and ask, “Timing?”. Ram nods. 

Ram: “Timing. A man of only good timeliness, that is what Barusu is.” 

He's a man who is ordinarily useless, and you have no idea what role he could possibly serve—but nevertheless the character named Natsuki Subaru had a mysterious propensity to be at the places you wanted him in, at the times you wanted him there. 

When Emilia strayed away from Ram at the Capital, Subaru protected her in Ram's place. Wounded, he was taken to the mansion, and there came the ruckus with the witchbeasts. This again concluded in Subaru saving both the village and the children, and he participated in exterminating the beasts. He was not the contributor of the greatest services, but his presence truly did help. When Emilia returned from the Capital and entrusted the mansion to Ram, and signs of unrest began to spread across the surrounding region, Subaru returned with a military unit in tow and beautifully repelled the danger. 

The man named Natsuki Subaru was a man with abnormally good timing. Ram found not a single appealing thing in him, and nothing sexually charming about him either. She had no idea as to what his good points were, and on occasions felt frustrated with him. Although she could not remember what it was that frustrated her, or what it was that was tugging at her. Regardless, Natsuki Subaru amounted to nothing more than that. 

Which was why for this affair, Ram would again— 

Ram: “It's safe to trust in the goodness of Barusu's timing. —Once Barusu thinks he's seen a chance, and so acts with that belief, that remains the only single method to salvage any victory.” 

Otto: “It looks like you do have some trust in Natsuki-san, Ram-san.” 

Ram: “It's Ram-sama.” 

Otto: “Is this truly the time to be bringing that up!?” Displeased by the man grinning beside her, Ram shuts him up with a sharp glare. 

The two coincide in their approval of Subaru's intentions. They mutually agreed on the issue of them becoming fighters, and on saying nothing about buying time like this to Subaru. They were aware that they had already bought plenty enough time, but... Otto: “Somehow, it's mysterious, but this urge to do more isn't going away.” Ram: “That the traps and the surprise attack caught him perfectly but he still isn't down is an insult. 

This is impertinence, Garf. —As you'll be soon to understand.” 

Otto: “Aeuh, scary. This woman is scary. I'm starting to feel that maybe Natsuki-san lied, about that sleeping girl being a kind person.” Muttering and running his mouth is Otto. 

Verifying her grip on her wand, with mana again congregating at its tip, is Ram. 

Faced with the two and their readiness for battle, preserving his silence, is Garfiel. He looks down, listening to the two's voices, before finally, sluggishly, stepping forth. Garfiel: “—” Sensing that battle will again unfold, Otto and Ram stiffen. 

But in response to their resolve, Garfiel: “...enough, already.” A frail, muttered voice. 

Otto and Ram furrow their brows. Garfiel: “Thinking is just a goddamn fuckin' pain—” Spoken in exhausted tone, Garfiel mutters. 

And. ???: “——Ϡ!” Rocking the whole of SANCTUARY's woods, there thunders a bestial bellow. 

Every creature in the forest trembles, bows their heads before this pressure. 

—The beast, appears.