8.1.4

"Here—we—go…"

Subaru felt the sensation of trampling fallen leaves as he trod along the difficult-to-navigate path. He stepped over sludge and tree roots as he made his way deeper into the dimly lit forest. If he looked overhead, the sun and the blue sky peeked through gaps in the leaves; the breeze blowing through was rich in moisture. With the lukewarm wind reminding him of the cold sweat on his brow, Subaru wiped it off with the back of his hand, exhaling deeply.

—At that moment Subaru was walking in the forest, isolated and defenseless.

Left to his own devices, Subaru was no longer accompanied by the companions he had traversed the highway with; he was not even riding Patlash. Without even a weapon to rely on, he was the definition of helplessness.

"Had to leave Patlash behind. This is one battle I can't have her stand by my side."

Slightly out of breath, Subaru laughed a little as the words trickled out.

He'd already gone a fair distance along terrain wholly unfit for walking. Squeezing through the gaps between skinny trees, snapping the fallen branches as he passed by, and scrambling up lichen-strewn hills, Subaru forged ahead. Though they were called animal trails by some, the ground was so poor for travel that the barely existing paths barred his way.

It was the third time Subaru had walked through the forest like this.

He'd been carrying someone in his arms both the first and the second time. He'd seemed so much lighter then; he wondered why his current steps felt so heavy by comparison.

"Probably 'cause I'm stunned by my own stupidity that I'm doin' this for the third time. Since it's try number three, I just wanna take it easy and head home… Now, then."

While he was murmuring, right as he leaped over some mushrooms that looked vaguely poisonous, the atmosphere abruptly shifted. It was different from the reflexive sense of tension he'd felt when confronting Elsa or the White Whale. The unpleasantness of the atmosphere clung to him, making Subaru really feel the sweat he hadn't been heeding.

"Here it comes…almost like when you suddenly see a roach in the corner of a quiet room…"

When encountering a black noxious insect, a strange battle of wills would break out—one where it seemed certain that the first one to move would perish. Time seemed to stretch beyond all limits, feeling like infinity.

It was a time much like that, with plain, distasteful trepidation crawling over the entirety of his flesh.

Abruptly, he strained his eyes. To the left and right, the forest scenery seemed uniform. But he felt as if he'd seen this somewhere before—in fact, he actually did recognize this landscape.

"I walk all those paths that ain't worthy of the name and I still get here every time. It's a little funny. I dunno whether to call it a sense of direction or guesswork, but it's too sharp, whatever it is."

Or perhaps he just really had a good nose for evil.

It'd be kind of cool to be known as a hunting dog trained to track down the Witch Cult, but if Subaru was a dog, he was of the beaten variety, having lost every battle to date. He wanted to strip that label off himself this time around.

"—Thanks for the warm welcome."

Subaru squinted, staring into the gloomy darkness ahead of him as he spoke the words of thanks. Of course, there was not even a scintilla of friendliness on his face. But the people to whom he spoke lacked any a smidgen of humanity to care. It was very late to do so, but he wondered who they were.

"I don't suppose you Witch Cultists would tell me even if I asked."

"—"

In an instant, several figures had surrounded Subaru, robed in black outfits that blended with the darkness.

At some point, the sound of the wind and even the chirps of the insects had vanished. It was a rather cliché signal that they had arrived. Now that he understood, suddenly encountering them didn't surprise him anymore.

He felt an out-of-place sense of relief—but that was only because he'd encountered the cultists exactly as planned.

"Sorry, I know you came all this way, but I wanna talk to your leader. That means you guys are in the way."

"—"

"To be honest, it doesn't feel good not to understand any of this, but I probably outrank you, right? Please?"

Subaru waved a hand, seemingly to command them to go away. As he did so, the figures in black robes bowed their heads to Subaru in a show of respect, maintaining the posture as they seemed to glide away, melting into the darkness once more. This, too, was the reaction he had expected.

Though it left him conflicted, the Witch Cultists held no enmity toward Subaru. So long as he did not indicate hostile intent toward them, and Petelgeuse didn't command them otherwise, they would do Subaru no harm.

He didn't really want to know the circumstances that lay behind that judgment.

"Sure would be nice if I could just order them to pack up their things and head back to the family farm…"

Subaru sighed deeply, his shoulders sinking. Things were never so convenient.

Either way, it was clear that he was near his destination. He recognized the scenery around him, and he'd met what he assumed was a Witch Cult patrol. If memory served him correctly, all he needed to do was keep heading deeper into the forest.

His eardrums were filled only by the sounds of his footsteps along the ground and his own breathing. He felt like he was walking through prolonged, never-ending darkness, but that sense soon came to an end.

"—Ohh."

The trees obstructing his path opened before him, and Subaru leaped into a rocky place; a sheer cliff filled his vision.

A sudden break in the forest spread before the tall, precipitous rock face, almost as if the forest had been gouged by a giant claw. Several boulders lay at the bottom of the cliff; the cave within which the Witch Cult was lurking was hidden behind a particularly large one. The malicious group was surely preparing its cruel schemes within.

But it seemed that there would be no need to converse inside the cavern this time around.

After all—

"—I have been waiting for you, DISCIPLE of love."

The man in a priestly habit had come to greet him with arms spread wide, immersed in a world of madness and delight.

His cheeks were gaunt. His eyes seemed ready to fall from their sockets. His hair was a deep green. His skin had an ashen, unhealthy sheen. His limbs, stretching out from under the black habit, were slender and frail, like gnarled branches. He looked like a man in his midthirties, but his deathly overall appearance made fifties seem hardly a stretch.

The only lively part of him was his eyes, but it was with these, and the overwhelming, fiery light of madness within them, that he stared at Subaru.

"I am Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti—Archbishop of the Seven Deadly Sins of the Witch Cult, entruuuusted with Sloth!"

With spittle on the tip of his outstretched tongue, the madman—Petelgeuse—laughed, proudly invoking his name as he extended Subaru his hospitality.