Maylee's POV
The mission had started out simple. They already had the advantage—the royal candidate was keeping her distance from the Sword Saint, constantly trying to avoid dress fittings as the Sword Saint chased after her. All that was needed was a single explosion nearby to get them separated. Elsa would find some hostages and move to a crowded area to stall for time; the Sword Saint couldn't unleash her full power in the middle of a population.
At least, that was the plan.
After the explosion, Reinhard immediately ordered some personal knights to guard Felt while she went to investigate the disturbance. Releasing large mabeasts through the front entrance wasn't hard—the gate was big enough, and they perfectly distracted the knights. The knights lined up defensively, shielding Felt from the front, never expecting an attack from the second-floor window behind them.
Maylee was being held by the scruff by her winged chimera, which floated silently beside the cracked window. She opened it with care and signaled the mabeasts to stay quiet and avoid drawing attention. Then, she released as many of her venomous snakes as she could inside.
Felt stood nearby, watching the knights fight the mabeasts with an amused expression, as if the entire situation had nothing to do with her. That was when she heard a faint sound—just a slight slither. A snake had coiled up and suddenly launched toward her face. Instinctively, she raised her arm to block it, and the snake sank its fangs deep into her wrist.
Felt cried out and yanked the creature off.
Maylee chuckled. Mission complete.
All she had to do now was return to the meeting point and wait for Elsa.
But then—she felt it. A gaze on the back of her head.
Turning back toward the window, she saw Felt—staring. The girl glanced at the scattered snakes, then at the open window, then back at her. Her wrist was already swelling, the veins turning dark.
She'll be dead in minutes, Maylee thought smugly. There was no threat.
Grinning, she stuck her tongue out and pulled down her lower eyelid in mockery.
Felt's face contorted with fury. She pulled out a dagger and charged the window. Cutting down the snakes lunging at her, she moved with unnatural speed—as if the wind itself was pushing her forward.
Still held in the mouth of her flying chimera, Maylee flew backward through the air, pondering to herself:
Is that some special type of wind magic? A divine protection? Like mine?
It didn't matter. She would be dead soon anyway.
Then, a shockwave echoed from the direction Elsa had gone. A head flew through the air—too far to see clearly, but it must've been one of the disposable hostages. She turned her eyes back toward Felt's window.
The window shattered.
A knife spun through the air—thrown by the poisoned candidate—and grazed Maylee's cheek. It embedded itself into the mane of the mabeast flying behind her. The beast roared in pain and sped away faster, Maylee still in its jaws. She blinked, noticing red droplets in the air.
After waiting at the meeting point for over an hour and a half with still no sign of Elsa, Maylee's irritation began to boil over.
What's taking her so long?
Eventually, she decided to return and see the aftermath for herself.
She traveled alone—no chimera, no escort. But no one suspected her. She was just a small child. Her age was her perfect camouflage. She weaved through the ruins and the chaos—collapsed buildings, scattered rubble, and knights busy quarantining survivors and corpses.
That's when she saw it.
A woman's headless corpse… dressed in a black outfit far too familiar to mistake.
Her breath caught.
Elsa.
Her sister—the woman who couldn't die—was dead.
Her mind scrambled. Whos fault was it? The Sword Saint. No—this was a suicide mission from the beginning. Mother. It was Mother who sent her as punishment for her own failure to report in time. But no—it was her fault, for lingering in the Elinor Forest longer than she was ordered to. Or… was it his fault? The one who distracted her. The one who made her curious. Made her hesitate.
Her young mind—still fractured and stunted—kept tossing the blame around like a hot stone, never settling. She didn't realize it at first, but a foreign emotion had begun blooming inside her.
Grief.
The first time she'd ever truly felt it.
Elsa—her sister, her only real family—was the only one who had ever treated her like a person. The only one who had ever smiled at her with kindness. Now she was gone. Just… gone.
Too many people to blame. No way to express it.
Maylee slumped to the ground, arms wrapped around her knees, face buried in her sleeves. Her small frame trembled as tears trickled down, staining her clothes.
What would Elsa do?
If she were Elsa, she would go to Mother and say with confidence:
"Mission completed. Losses were taken. I expect extra compensation… and a temporary leave of absence, Thanks."
Maylee tried to imagine her sister's cocky tone and expression. But it felt hollow. It cracked inside her.
As the first flake of snow drifted onto her head, she looked up. The cold dusted her hair and shoulders like the world was gently trying to wrap her in something comforting.
She shivered.
Was this… a sign from Sister?
From heaven?
The tears wouldn't stop.
And she didn't know why.
***
(Special Time-Limited Mission: "Participate in the Snow Festival" — Complete. You are now able to use 4 basic-level spell slots. To cast a spell and place it in a slot, you must know your attribute and the chant required for the spell.)
Seeing the message, Toyota felt a flicker of excitement. So, he could now be a legitimate magic user… if he learned his attribute and four different chants. Still, he decided to put that aside for later.
Early in the morning, Toyota made his way to meet with Subaru. The mansion was unusually quiet—eerily so. Most of the residents were likely still asleep, hungover from the festival. The silence felt wrong, heavy with something he couldn't name.
When he reached Subaru's room, he paused. The door was cracked open just slightly, enough for him to see inside.
Subaru was awake, lying in bed, eyes wide open and unblinking, staring blankly at the ceiling. In his right hand, he held a quill—delicate, with a blue gemstone embedded in its base. His expression was distant. Haunted.
Without hesitation, he jammed the quill into his forearm—drawing blood.
Then he moved an inch higher and did it again.
He kept repeating the action, his eyes wide and raw, as if afraid to blink. As if closing them meant seeing something worse—something unbearable.
Toyota's stomach twisted.
It wasn't in the anime, he thought, but in the novel… to cope with his fear, pain, and—more than anything—his self-hatred, Subaru would harm himself in small ways. Cuts. Scratches. Always with something small.
Beatrice or Emilia would heal him the next day, assuming it was from butler duties. There were never any scars.
And for Subaru, that was what made it terrifying.
No scars meant one thing.
He had died again.
Toyota knew that look.
He had seen it in the mirror before.
He had felt it in his own chest, twisting like a blade made of shame.
Wanting to break the spiral before it went too far, he knocked gently on the door.
Subaru flinched.
The quill clattered to the floor as he scrambled to hide his arm, rolling down his sleeve. He pasted on a smile—but it didn't reach his tired eyes.
"Toyota, is that you? Why are you up this early?" he asked, voice thin and brittle. "You need to rest properly after becoming one with the snow."
Toyota didn't smile. He didn't joke.
He stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him.
"Let's talk about your ability."
A long, heavy silence filled the room.
"…Can we even talk about it?" Subaru muttered, voice dull.
"I think we should be able to," Toyota replied quietly. "As long as no one's listening… or maybe we just don't mention it directly. That might keep the Witch's scent from growing."
Subaru looked down, fingers twitching.
"So, what do you know about your ability?" Toyota asked.
"I know that… many times I've…" Subaru hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Reset. Gone back to a point in time to try again."
"Is that all you know?"
"Well…" Subaru rubbed his arm. "I know it has something to do with the Witch of Envy—Satella—because of the scent. And… from what I've heard, she's supposed to have powers that could've summoned me. So maybe she's the reason I'm even here."
Silence again. Toyota weighed his words carefully.
"…The reason the Witch gave you that power," he said slowly, "is because she loves you."
"Bullshit!" Subaru shouted, voice cracking. "What? What do you mean, huh?! All I've gotten from this ability is pain! Dying, watching others die, being killed, betrayed, tortured—if this is love, then screw it! If it's a tool, why can't I just revive without suffering? Why can't I get some OP ability like Reinhard?! At least he has the strength to save people!"
"She isn't almighty," Toyota said firmly, cutting him off. "She gave you this ability because she doesn't want you to die. The reason you can't tell anyone is because she doesn't want them to take advantage of you. And—whether you like it or not—your ability is broken. Compared to most powers in this world, it's one of the most overpowered abilities there is: the power to change fate itself."
Subaru's eyes burned with frustration, but Toyota continued.
"That doesn't mean the Witch is good. But you need to let go of this naive idea that this world is a game, or some cliché story where everything makes sense and works out in the end."
Subaru glared at him… then his expression slowly shifted.
"How many chances do I get?" he asked, quieter now. "The amount of times I can reset?"
Toyota exhaled.
"As far as I know… it's infinite. But that doesn't mean you should use it like a tool. Because each time you die, each time you go through this alone—it chips away at your sanity."
Subaru looked at Toyota, eyes searching his face.
"How has someone even younger than me kept his sanity? How many times have you died? You seem to know everything before it happens… Wait. You can choose your checkpoints, right? How far back did you go to get to this point?"
Toyota shook his head.
"There's some misconception you've got there. The reason I know what's going to happen and your ability—they're not the same. I'm an outlier."
Subaru blinked. "An outlier…?"
"And as for your checkpoints," Toyota continued, "you don't control them. I don't know exactly how they work, but I think Satella sets them manually. Which means—technically—you have Type 8 immortality."
"Goddammit, I can't control my checkpoints?!" Subaru ran a hand through his hair. "Wait, what's Type 8 immortality?"
"Doesn't matter," Toyota replied, brushing the question off. "What matters is—I'm using one of my favor requests. Remember the bet?"
Subaru squinted. "What? Now? What for?"
"I need you to form a contract with Beatrice. As soon as possible."
Subaru looked thrown. "Why? Why do you want me to—?"
"Didn't I specifically say not to question it? No matter how random it sounds." Toyota's voice was calm but firm. He sighed and softened slightly. "And… please stop harming yourself. I'll make sure you don't have to rely on that ability anymore. I'll take care of everything."
Subaru stared at him, expression unreadable. Then he spoke.
"You're going to leave soon, aren't you?"
"...Yeah," Toyota said after a pause.
"Take care of yourself," Subaru said, voice low.
Toyota stopped, glancing back at him. A strange feeling stirred in his chest—something unfamiliar. Something warm, tight, and heavy all at once.
Was this… friendship?
He didn't know.
Not yet.
He understood Subaru. He respected him. But he didn't dare let himself believe in something like "friendship" until he'd truly saved everyone. Until there was peace. Until no one had to die again.
Then—and only then—could he breathe. Could he allow himself to stop. Could he afford to enjoy things like bonds.
It was ironic, he thought, as he turned away.
He was planning to obtain the Authority of Sloth.
And yet right now, he was the complete opposite of sloth.
***
Toyota was eating breakfast, stomach still sensitive after vomiting up last night's dinner. The taste of barely-cooked medieval-style food—mostly fruit and vegetables—was starting to wear on him. Where were the sweets? The meat? He could only grumble as he picked at his plate.
Hovering upside down above him, Puck appeared out of nowhere, watching him with an amused expression.
"You don't look so good," the spirit mused.
"I didn't sleep well," Toyota muttered. "And dinner didn't sit right with me."
He hadn't been able to sleep again after that terrifying memory transfer. Just the thought of falling asleep was enough to keep him wide awake.
Puck floated down slightly, tail twitching and an excited smile spreading across his face. "That's disappointing. By the way… do you know magic?"
The topic shift was so sudden, it was painfully obvious what the little furball was up to.
"No," Toyota replied. "I know the basic concept, but I've never actually used it."
"Do you know how spirit arts users are different from regular magic users?" Puck asked, clearly enjoying the lecture vibe.
"Um… magic users are self-reliant? Spirit users… aren't?"
"Close~" Puck sang, spinning lazily. "Spirit art users draw mana from the atmosphere. Unlike standard magic users who channel it through their own gates. Would you like me to show you how?"
That caught Toyota's attention. He remembered his reward from the snow festival—access to four basic-level magic spell slots. If he learned the chant and his attribute, he could finally cast some real spells.
"I'd love to," Toyota said, finally perking up.
"Great!" Puck cheered, suddenly swirling around his head at near-hypersonic speed, making him dizzy.
"I'll meet you out in the garden. Wouldn't want you turning into a squid in the mansion!"
Thinking back on Subaru's pathetic little Shamak spell, Toyota chuckled. He really did look like a squid—inking once before collapsing from magical exhaustion.
"Okay," Toyota said with a small smirk. "I'll meet you there."
(AN: This is part 1/2 of the chapter that went too long.. he will soon be able to use magic so yayyyyy, I won't get comments calling MC pathetic.👍
I've set an official release schedule: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Although when I get bored, I add extra.
Bonus chapters will drop on Saturdays if my demands are met. 🔫
Trade deal:
You give me 70 power stones, and I give you a bonus chapter.
Sounds fair, right?)