By the time they returned to the campgrounds, the sun was already high overhead, casting golden rays over the tents and worn training dummies scattered across the clearing. Amid all this, one thing was clear—everyone was waiting. Waiting for Subaru and Julius to return and decide the next course of action.
As the two approached, Subaru's condition sent a ripple through the gathered crowd. His clothes were scorched, his hair tousled, his gait uneven. Whispers grew into murmurs. Faces turned. Anxiety spread like wildfire.
Rem dashed forward without hesitation. Her aquamarine eyes scanned every inch of him, assessing his injuries with clinical precision—but her trembling lips betrayed the storm of worry inside.
"Subaru-kun," she breathed, her voice tight. "You said it was just a sparring match with Julius-san... What happened to you? Your clothes are—burnt to cinders!"
Her tone was low, but the simmering anger in her voice was impossible to miss. She turned her piercing gaze to Julius, suspicion flaring.
From behind her, Meili approached. Unlike Rem, her pace was hesitant, heavy with dread. The young girl's tiny frame looked even smaller under the weight of fear. Her fingers trembled as they reached for Subaru's sleeve, tugging ever so gently.
"Subaru-nii... Let's go to the dragon carriage. Please. I don't want you to get hurt again," she whispered, her voice cracking like fragile glass. Just a few words—but they carried a lifetime's worth of pain and fear. Subaru felt them as keenly as any blade.
Subaru gave a faint, wry smile. Carefully, he unlinked his arm from Julius' support. The pain was real—but it was manageable. The concern in the eyes of those he cared about, however, was far more difficult to endure.
"I'm alright, Rem. Meili too. Really," he said, trying to sound casual, but his voice lacked its usual energy. "It was just a duel. We both got a little too into it."
He turned to Julius, and despite the fatigue in his body, a flicker of excitement danced in his eyes.
"I'm heading back to rest for now. But once we get to Kararagi, let's go another round. I'll be ready next time."
Julius inclined his head, lips curling into a refined smile.
"Naturally, Subaru~ That was one of the most stimulating matches I've had in quite some time. You never fail to surprise me. It's always a pleasure to cross swords—and ideas—with you."
Their brief, respectful nods signaled an end to the battle, but not to their mutual respect. With Rem and Meili flanking him, Subaru began the slow walk back to the dragon carriage. Every step sent a jolt through his legs, but the fire in his heart remained unshaken.
When they reached the vehicle, Elsa was already there. She leaned against the carriage door, arms crossed, but the moment her eyes fell on Subaru, all pretense of calm fell away. Her violet eyes widened in alarm.
She was at his side in seconds. Without saying a word, she seized his wrist and pulled him inside. Once within the safety of the carriage, she turned and wrapped him in a fierce embrace.
"Idiot! What the hell were you thinking?!" she snapped, voice tight with fury and fear. "He could've killed you! A full-powered spirit attack and you just stood there?! Do you want to die that badly?!"
Her grip was almost crushing, but Subaru didn't resist. The anger in her voice couldn't mask the quiver in it. Her words may have scolded, but her heart screamed worry.
He exhaled, letting the warmth of her concern wrap around him. For a moment, the chaos of battle, the ache in his bones, the burning on his skin—it all faded.
Still in her arms, he muttered, "You don't need to worry so much, Elsa. I'm okay. Really. And… you watched the whole thing? I didn't expect that. How did it look? Did I meet your expectations?"
Across the interior of the carriage, Beatrice sat quietly in her usual corner, half-buried in tomes and scrolls. At the mention of spirits, her head turned just slightly. A spark of curiosity ignited in her Blue eyes. Spirits, mana, shadows—these were not mere topics to her. They were her world. And what Subaru had done in that duel had bent those laws dangerously close to breaking. She said nothing, only observed. Not everything needed to be voiced—yet.
Elsa's grip tightened. Her arms around Subaru felt like a barrier between him and the world's dangers.
"Yeah, I saw it all," she said, voice quieter now. "You held your ground better than I expected. For a while, you were actually ahead. But the moment Julius started using his spirits at full force, the tide turned."
She paused, her lips quirking into a half-smile.
"Honestly, it was kind of thrilling to watch. I almost jumped from the tree to join in. You were having so much fun, and the fight was so intense... But I held myself back. Barely."
Subaru laughed softly, blushing slightly.
"Yeah, it got intense fast. It was like Julius flipped a switch and went full-on spirit knight. Still... Elsa, you know you're not supposed to show yourself. We talked about this."
She huffed, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes.
"Doesn't mean I won't worry. Doesn't mean I'll sit by when someone I care about is getting scorched."
He met her gaze, grateful.
Outside, the camp buzzed with renewed energy, but within the carriage, silence settled. A brief peace among the storm. For now.
At that exact moment, Rem gently but firmly pulled Subaru away from Elsa's arms, her touch warm and steady. Meili, without a word, stepped forward and moved to stand beside Elsa, her presence calm yet quietly protective. Between the two of them, Subaru stood, momentarily shielded. For a brief instant, nestled between these two unlikely protectors, he felt a rare, fleeting sense of safety. There was something growing among the three of them—unspoken, delicate, but undeniably real. A fragile, invisible thread of trust and connection that hadn't existed before, now silently stitching them together.
"Subaru-kun, please stand for a moment. I need to check you over," Rem said gently. Her voice, though soft, carried an undercurrent of urgency. Subaru met her eyes—warm, ocean-blue and filled with concern. The seriousness in her gaze struck him more deeply than the words. He nodded faintly, still lightheaded from mana depletion. Standing up was a struggle; his knees buckled slightly. But Rem's arm was there instantly, supporting him with practiced ease. He leaned on her without hesitation.
Rem's fingers were meticulous and clinical as she examined him, scanning for wounds. Her touch was no longer shy or hesitant—it was the practiced, confident movement of someone who had treated him many times before. Subaru, who once would have blushed furiously at such closeness, felt only calm now. He trusted her implicitly. Her eyes softened slightly as she finished. "No open wounds or major trauma... but your muscles are strained, and you're clearly overexerted. You've pushed yourself too far again, haven't you? After expending so much mana, rest isn't optional. It's mandatory."
With a sigh that was half-relief, half-fatigue, Subaru sank to the ground. "Yeah... sleep sounds amazing right now. Between the all-night watch and that training session, I think I'm past my limit. My body's practically screaming at me."
Rem crossed her arms, raising one delicate finger with a stern expression. "But you can't keep doing this to yourself. The next time you rush into a fight like that without thinking, I'll do more than just scold you. You have people who care about you now, Subaru. Don't forget that. Don't make us worry like this again."
He gave a soft laugh, one that faded into a breathless chuckle. "Alright, alright~ I get it. I promise. No more reckless stunts. It's just... sometimes, I want to prove I can stand on my own. That I'm not just someone who needs saving."
Rem didn't answer right away. Instead, she gave him a knowing glance—one that spoke volumes. Then she nodded, turned, and with practiced grace, climbed back onto the lead dragon, taking hold of the reins once more. She began steering the convoy forward, seamlessly rejoining Anastasia's procession. Subaru watched her figure grow smaller in the distance, his chest tightening—not in pain, but with quiet gratitude. He wasn't strong, not in the traditional sense. But he was trying. And that meant something.
Once Rem had taken her place at the front, Elsa silently knelt beside him. She looked at him with that usual half-smile that bordered on teasing but held a flicker of genuine care. "Subaru... come on. Rest your head here," she said, patting her lap. "You're running on fumes, and you know it. This is a one-time offer, so you better take it while it lasts."
He didn't argue. He didn't even hesitate. With a small grunt of effort, Subaru shifted and placed his head in her lap, letting his eyes close. The warmth of her body seeped into him, calming the buzz of residual mana and pain coursing through his limbs. For the first time in hours—maybe longer—his breathing slowed. The tension slipped from his shoulders. He didn't try to fight it anymore.
Moments passed in silence. Then a small presence joined them. Meili approached quietly, like a shadow, and settled down beside Subaru. She curled up next to him and draped one arm over his chest, hugging him loosely. Her eyes were glassy, her mouth drawn into a tight, serious line. She said nothing—but she didn't need to. Her actions spoke loud enough. She simply needed to be close, to confirm with her own hands that Subaru was still here, still alive. Her tiny fingers gripped his sleeve tightly, refusing to let go.
The dragon carriages rumbled onward, their steady pace echoing through the woods. Outside, the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, its golden glow fading into soft indigo twilight. Inside the carriage, nestled between warmth and quiet, Subaru drifted into a deep, undisturbed sleep. Not once did he stir. The fatigue from his long, sleepless vigil and the toll of the day's battles pulled him under completely. His breathing was slow and even. His body, finally, had surrendered to rest.
Elsa, for her part, didn't mind Subaru's weight on her lap. If anything, she leaned her back against the seat, letting her eyes drift shut as well. The gentle rhythm of the carriage, the warmth at her side, lulled her into a shallow doze.
By the time the sun had fully disappeared and stars began to scatter across the sky, the caravan had reached a suitable place to stop. The drivers called out to one another, coordinating in hushed tones. Elsa and Meili gently untangled themselves from Subaru—careful not to wake him—and slipped outside to help prepare the camp. The air was crisp. Tents were pitched, fires lit, food unpacked. It was a calm and orderly process, the kind born of routine.
Inside the carriage, peace lingered. The only sounds were the distant murmurs of the encampment, the rustling of canvas in the breeze, and Subaru's slow, even breathing. Surrounded by those who cared for him—no matter how oddly matched they seemed—he was safe.
At least, for now.
Only Beatrice and Subaru remained in the dragon carriage, the gentle creaking of the wheels and the occasional rustle of leaves outside the only sounds breaking the silence. Subaru was still deep in slumber, his breaths slow and steady, chest rising and falling with a rhythm that reassured yet evoked concern. Beatrice slowly opened her eyes, long lashes fluttering like the wings of a waking butterfly. She remained still for a moment, simply observing the boy lying nearby.
After a few more seconds of quiet contemplation, she quietly stood up, her delicate shoes barely making a sound on the wooden floor of the carriage. Taking careful, measured steps, she tiptoed closer to Subaru's side, her gaze calm but thoughtful.
She leaned in slowly, her small hand extending forward with a gentleness rarely seen from her. She placed her palm softly on Subaru's chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric. Her fingers, though small, were steady—until she felt the faint rhythm of his heartbeat. Then, ever so slightly, they trembled. Still, she held her focus. The mana inside her began to flow, responding to her will. She cast a quiet, intricate healing spell, designed not just to patch wounds but to nurture, to soothe. It was a spell of care, of restoration.
The soft glow of healing magic illuminated her hand as the spell slowly began to repair the damage in Subaru's mana pathways. Invisible cracks within him, worn down by combat and effort, started to mend. The fatigue embedded deep in his muscles began to dissolve, like snow melting in spring. Her lips moved in silent incantations, precise and deliberate, forming words only the mana could understand.
Her gaze stayed on his face the entire time. He always threw himself into danger without hesitation, placing others before himself no matter the cost. It was reckless, foolish even—but it was also what made him who he was. Beatrice had always kept a distance, hiding behind sarcasm and bluntness. Yet now, as she poured her magic into his healing, she allowed herself this quiet moment of vulnerability. For a once-lonely spirit, being able to protect someone like this held more meaning than she could express.
Subaru stirred slightly, a low sound escaping his lips. The haze of sleep still clung to him, but the sense of Beatrice's presence sharpened his awareness. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first. But then they landed on her form, kneeling beside him, and clarity returned. He blinked a few times, then stretched lightly and sat up with a groggy sigh.
"So you finally got off your seat, Beako," he murmured with a faint, teasing grin, voice heavy with drowsiness but soft with affection.
Beatrice, still focused on her magic, glanced at him from the corner of her eye. The glow surrounding her hands slowly faded as the spell neared completion. "Betty simply wanted to talk to you alone, I suppose," she said, her voice a soft murmur. "There's something I want to ask you."
Subaru tilted his head slightly, brushing a hand through his disheveled hair. "Of course. What's on your mind, Beako?"
With the spell now finished, Beatrice gently withdrew her hands from his chest, placing them in her lap as she straightened up. Her sharp, expressive eyes met his directly.
"Betty's curious. Why didn't you call on me while fighting a spirit knight like Julius?"
Subaru blinked, caught off guard. His brows furrowed in thought, and then a sigh escaped him.
"Beako… You know we don't have a contract. The last time I tried to be honest with you, you walked away. I didn't want to force you into something dangerous. I chose to face Julius and all of his spirits on my own. It felt like something I had to do alone. My fight. My burden."
Beatrice's face remained mostly stoic, but a shift occurred in her gaze—just a flicker of emotion. Her lips trembled briefly before she steadied herself.
"Betty was certain that day... that you were 'that person'. The one she'd been waiting for. But both you and Master Flugel said things that made her doubt. That's why... Betty decided she couldn't keep chasing a person who may no longer exist. Or maybe... she's learning that she doesn't need to."
Subaru's expression softened considerably. His eyes searched hers, and a bitter smile slowly curved his lips. "I'm glad you're starting to come to terms with it, Beako. I bet Echidna's losing her mind right now, watching this from wherever she is."
He chuckled faintly, his voice carrying a tired joy.
Then came another voice—intangible, yet present. It echoed through the air like a breeze stirring the surface of a still pond. The ambient mana quivered.
"Agreed. Irritating her has become a pleasant hobby of mine," Flugel's voice said with a hint of smug satisfaction.
Beatrice sighed, rolling her eyes with graceful annoyance. "I don't appreciate you speaking of my mother that way... but I'll overlook it this once. Betty's feelings about her are still... difficult to sort out."
Subaru's teasing demeanor faded, his expression growing thoughtful. He leaned forward slightly.
"So, now that you're no longer bound—now that you're free—what do you want, Beako? What comes next for you?"
Beatrice looked upward, her gaze settling on the ceiling of the dragon carriage, but her mind was clearly far away.
"Betty... is searching, I suppose. For her purpose. For what she truly wants—not something imposed, not something she was made for. There's no mission anymore. No waiting. No chains. This new freedom... it feels strange. It might take a while to get used to. But maybe that's okay."
Subaru watched her in silence, the gentle hum of the carriage cradling the quiet moment between them.
Subaru couldn't immediately respond to her words. Something stirred deep within him—a gentle tremor of emotion—but he pressed it down before it could rise. Memories came flooding back. Conversations from long ago, back when everything was new and uncertain, resurfaced in his mind. His talks with Beatrice, before Flugel, before Echidna... back when he always pushed too hard, demanded too much. He had once thought that was the only way to show he cared. But now, something fundamental had changed. He no longer wanted to corner her into decisions. Friendship, he realized, should never feel like pressure.
Slowly, carefully, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her small frame. "You'll find your path, Beako. I believe in you. Just... do what's best for you, okay? Don't let anyone else write your story. Not even me."
The great spirit didn't shy away. No scoff, no sarcastic remark. Instead, she responded—not with words, but with action. Her arms encircled his back in return, and she rested against him for the briefest moment. It wasn't a long embrace, nor dramatic, but it was enough. Their feelings—quiet, mutual—passed between them effortlessly.
"Now that's what I call progress," Flugel muttered from somewhere nearby, his voice so low it could've been mistaken for the wind rustling through the trees. There was no teasing this time—just observation, and maybe even approval.
The door to the dragon carriage creaked open, letting in the chill of the night. Subaru and Beatrice stepped out into the wintry air. The world outside was wrapped in frost and moonlight, shadows stretching long and quiet under the canopy of trees. Every branch glimmered with delicate crystals of ice, and every breath they exhaled rose like ghostly mist. Winter had fully descended. But the convoy was protected by mana barriers, and the cold served more as scenery now—a distant echo rather than a threat.
Needing a moment to collect his thoughts, Subaru drifted away from the main group. His boots crunched softly against the frozen ground as he made his way toward the edge of the woods. When he reached a quiet spot beneath a barren tree, he reached into his Inventory and summoned Etherfang. The dagger appeared in his hand with a flicker of light, its blade pulsing with a soft, reddish glow that mirrored the hue of the night sky.
"Today, I managed to pull off something new—'heat shift' using fire mana," he murmured aloud, almost to himself. His voice was low, pensive. He wasn't just thinking about magic—he was questioning himself, reevaluating what he was becoming. "Do you think... I could pull it off again? Or was it just luck?"
Flugel's voice echoed gently in his mind, like distant chimes. "You've got a copy of the affinity, sure—but you're nowhere near full control. Not yet. Mastery takes time. Fire mana is volatile. Beautiful, yes. But brutal. And it doesn't forgive mistakes."
Subaru nodded silently. He raised Etherfang, the blade catching moonlight between the trees. Thin veins of mana pulsed along the metal, and from his palm, faint tendrils of heat shimmered in the air. The warmth thrummed at his fingertips, and his gaze sharpened. He looked out into the dark, past the campfires, past the shadows—searching for something invisible, perhaps even to himself.
The cold and exhaustion receded, replaced by something deeper. A quiet, determined stillness.
"If I've got time... I'll learn. I have to. There's no other path for me," he whispered with conviction. His voice trembled only slightly. The road ahead remained uncertain, shrouded in the same darkness he now stared into. But in that moment, for the first time, he felt like he could walk it with purpose. That it could be his path.
He tilted his head back and stared at the stars scattered across the heavens. The night sky was endless, vast and unknowable. But even under that weight, Subaru found room for humor. "Why don't you just give me some insanely broken power like those protagonists in the light novels I used to read, huh? Something flashy. World-shaking. Would that be so hard? Just once? Let me be cool without all the pain."
Flugel's reply came as a soft chuckle, carried on the breeze. "First of all," he said with a smirk in his tone, "skills earned through hardship stick with you. They're yours in a way nothing gifted ever could be. They grow with you. Reflect you. And second... readers lose interest if the protagonist becomes too strong too fast. No one wants to watch a game without a challenge."
(A/N: Yes, he completely broke the fourth wall.)
Subaru blinked, confused. "Readers? What the hell does that have to do with me? I'm not a reader—I'm the guy getting beat up out here!"
This time, Flugel's voice turned evasive. "Never mind that. Just concentrate. Channel your mana. Less whining, more doing."
Subaru grumbled but obeyed. He took a firmer grip on Etherfang and focused. That chaotic surge of mana he'd unleashed in his duel with Julius... that was what had triggered the 'heat shift' last time. But that moment had been instinctual, driven by desperation. Now, he wanted to summon it deliberately.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The cold became real again. He allowed himself to feel it: the bite on his skin, the sting in his lungs, the ache in his bones. Every part of him tuned in to the freezing environment.
"Cold... Frost... Ice... Freezing air... Let me shape it. Let me respond."
[Mana Blade – Active]
The glow around Etherfang brightened slightly, and Subaru felt the subtle shift—the blade warming in his grip, heat rising as if awakened by his resolve. It wasn't perfect. Not yet. But it was a step. And for Subaru, every step mattered.
The bluish glow of Etherfang gradually dimmed, giving way to a dense, pale white luminance that clung to the blade like frost. Streams of cold vapor began to coil from the dagger's edge, dancing in the frigid air. The temperature around Subaru dropped drastically, as though he had been cast into the eye of a raging snowstorm. The air thickened with a crystalline chill, sharp enough to sting the lungs. For the first time in what felt like ages, he shivered—not from fear or adrenaline, but from the sheer, biting cold that was now seeping into his bones.
When Subaru opened his eyes, the vapor spilling from Etherfang had already cloaked the carriage in a veil of white mist, veiling the world in a dreamlike haze. His fingers quivered with a faint tremble that betrayed both the toll and the triumph of his experiment. He had partially succeeded. Yet, his mind remained alert and wary. The sheer quantity of mana coursing through him was unsustainable. His body would not hold out for long—not at this rate.
SLASH!
He swung the dagger in a clean, precise arc. The blade sliced through the air, leaving behind a rippling trail of mana so cold it seemed to burn. A shockwave of freezing energy burst outward, scattering ice crystals into the air like shattered glass. The snow-like mist parted momentarily in the aftermath of the slash. And then, in that silence, an idea began to take shape.
"What if I applied this energy directly to my own body instead of a weapon?" Subaru mused internally. "Could it flow through my meridians like yin energy, spreading throughout my system, reinforcing me from within? If mana could flood my veins like a river, permeate each and every cell... could it reshape me from the inside out? Enhance my physical form to its very core? But... what if my body can't take the pressure? What if my muscles seize, my bones fracture, my organs get compressed by this freezing power?"
It was a dangerous proposition—but one brimming with tantalizing potential.
"If I could refine this technique," he continued thinking, "maybe I could exceed my own limits. If mana could be synchronized not just with tools but with my flesh, then in combat, it would move as part of my instincts—reflexes honed by training, now fused with raw energy. Speed, precision, power... everything could rise. Just like the martial artists of ancient lore who became weapons themselves."
His thoughts swirled with both excitement and unease. There was risk, yes—but a door had opened, and behind it, something greater waited.
With deliberate intent, Subaru returned Etherfang to his inventory. Then, tightening his fists, he closed his eyes and began to concentrate. He would attempt the same process, only now, on his own body. Gathering mana from his core, he willed it into his arm.
Something stirred within the limb.
A chill surged beneath his skin—a biting, icy burn. It spread like frostbite blooming in reverse, searing from the inside. His muscles spasmed. Pain lanced through the nerves, sharp enough to make him grit his teeth. And yet, he refused to relent. Instead, he thrust his arm forward in a swift punch.
Smack!
The air trembled as a burst of mana detonated from his fist. It wasn't large, nor refined—but it was unmistakably real. A raw, uncontrolled flare of energy. Even so, Subaru's lips curled into a smile.
"Huh. That felt... almost like using [Overburst]," he muttered, glancing at his trembling knuckles.
His hand still quivered, a subtle aftershock of the effort.
"Because it is, in essence, the same principle," a voice replied. Flugel's voice echoed softly, ancient and patient—like someone who had stood silently at the threshold of time, awaiting this moment. "You gather mana at your core—your heart—and then compress it, temper it, and release it in a single instant. Like a controlled explosion. Sudden. Focused. Powerful. It sounds simple, but when mastered, it can tip the scale of battle entirely."
Subaru swallowed, the weight of the explanation sinking in. It wasn't just a flash of energy. It was something precise. Artful. "So... it's like generating a shockwave inside yourself?"
"Exactly," Flugel confirmed. "An internal burst. But it requires careful control. Without that, you'll tear yourself apart—burning your muscles, rupturing vessels, maybe even fracturing your own mind. You'll lose more than mana. You'll lose yourself."
Subaru exhaled slowly, absorbing the warning. The potential was vast—but so was the danger.
"That's why," Flugel continued with a tone that balanced caution with calculation, "for now, use it only to support movement. Improve agility. Reaction speed. There's no need to overextend. You have Etherfang, a weapon forged to carry your power. Until your body can match its strength, don't gamble it all on your flesh."
Subaru nodded to himself, eyes narrowing with resolve. This was only the beginning. A new path had opened—one paved with ice, pain, and promise.
Subaru looked at his fist, still feeling the faint tremor from the small burst of mana. That sudden pulse had held more than just force—it carried the promise of growth, the start of something greater. There was something powerful hidden beneath that brief flash—something vast and untapped. He was beginning to understand it better. Empowering his body with mana wasn't just a combat technique. It was a discipline. A journey of self-mastery. One that demanded balance—of body, mind, and spirit. Each motion, each surge of energy, echoed deeper than the physical. It demanded focus, precision, and emotional clarity.
He repeated the motion a few more times. Steady breath. Gather the mana. Center it in his core. Spread it through his muscles like flowing fire. Focus it in his fists. Each time, the miniature shockwaves grew slightly more defined, sharper—but also more taxing. His breathing became heavier, his limbs sluggish. The mana within him was not limitless, and with every attempt, he felt it drain just a bit more. He was testing his limits, but carefully, without pushing into recklessness.
Still, despite his efforts, the system remained silent. No chime. No floating window. No new skill notification. That meant his control wasn't efficient enough—at least, not yet. "I'll come back to this later," he muttered under his breath. "For now, I'll do as you said and focus on weapon techniques." With a thought, he deactivated the mana flow and exhaled deeply, letting the tension leave his body. Then he began the walk back to camp, the cold air now biting at his exposed skin, reminding him he was still human.
Rem spotted him the moment he returned. Her blue eyes widened with concern, and she rushed over, checking his condition with practiced care. She touched his forehead, his hands, scanned him up and down with a healer's intensity. Her fingers glowed faintly with healing mana, probing for injuries. Thankfully, there was nothing serious—just signs of fatigue. Subaru was healthy, just a bit drained.
Later, he found himself in the middle of a focused conversation with Anastasia and Julius. The three of them stood near a supply cart, voices low but urgent. They exchanged views on trade routes, security risks, and the political tremors coming out of Pristella. Anastasia's sharp business instincts clashed and meshed with Julius's knightly pragmatism, while Subaru offered practical input from a ground-level perspective. Political strategy wasn't his strong suit, but he held his ground, offering insight born of experience.
After the tension of strategy talks, Subaru sought out a quiet corner of the camp, where he and Beatrice sat in calm. No grand conversation. Just quiet presence. Even their silence had meaning. Beatrice leaned lightly against his side, and he didn't move. For those few minutes, just existing together was enough.
As the day wound down and the chill of evening deepened, Subaru curled up near the campfire with Elsa and Meili. The last embers cast long, soft shadows as night claimed the skies. Inside the dragon carriage, darkness wrapped around them like a blanket. Subaru laid down a thick wool blanket and settled in, arms crossed behind his head.
Elsa remained alert. She sat still and silent, her gaze fixed on the ceiling of the tent, but every flicker of movement outside made her ears twitch. She didn't speak, didn't relax. It wasn't out of fear. It was pure instinct—refined vigilance. She was used to sleeping with one eye open, always listening. Subaru realized, with quiet admiration, that her silence wasn't absence. It was presence. Sharp, controlled, protective presence.
Meili, meanwhile, was visibly irritable. Her cheeks were puffed up in a sulk, arms crossed tightly, and she mumbled under her breath about how boring the trip was. She kicked at a loose thread on the blanket and complained about the food, the cold, and the adults around her. But as the night grew colder, her body betrayed her stubbornness. Shivering, she scooted closer to Subaru without saying a word. Eventually, she leaned her head against his arm, still pouting, but her body softened.
Something inside Subaru warmed at that. Beneath her tough attitude and prickly demeanor, Meili was just a child—longing for safety, warmth, and affection. He gently adjusted the blanket around her. Elsa watched this interaction out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze lingered on Meili, then on Subaru. Her expression didn't change, but she gave a subtle nod. No words were exchanged, but her message came through clearly: Thank you.
Outside, the wind brushed against of the tent, whispering promises and threats. Subaru's eyelids grew heavier, and his thoughts started to drift. In the quiet hush of the night, he allowed himself one small wish—a fleeting, heartfelt hope. "Let tomorrow be a little kinder," he whispered, and sleep took him.
Dawn arrived, cloaked in pale blue and frost. The convoy stirred to life under a sky that still held the memory of stars. The sun rose slowly behind distant hills, casting long beams of light over the snow-covered plains. Boots crunched over the icy ground, voices called out orders, and the caravan prepared to move once more.
The roads were quiet—too quiet. Frost glittered on every surface. They had only reached the midpoint of their route when Subaru felt it: a ripple of unease crawling through his chest. Like a breath held too long, like a heartbeat skipping. Something wasn't right.
He looked around. The landscape was still, but not in a peaceful way. The silence wasn't serene—it was stifling. Wrong. Deep in his gut, instinct churned.
Elsa felt it too. She was tense, eyes scanning constantly, fingers hovering near her dagger. Her entire body was poised like a drawn bowstring. "Something's coming," she said at last. Her voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the certainty in it. "Just a feeling... but I don't like this silence."
Subaru nodded grimly. "I feel it too."
They shared a glance. No words were needed. Whatever was coming, it wasn't friendly. But there was nothing they could do except keep moving forward. The convoy pressed on, wagon wheels crunching through snow, breath rising in clouds. The shadows lengthened. The chill deepened.
And somewhere beyond the veil of winter mist... something watched. Something waited.
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(A/N: "I felt I needed to let you know
The exam I mentioned earlier is tomorrow
Wish me luck!!!" )
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