As he spoke, Chronos knelt, putting his face close to Rogue’s.
“I said Miseria came to see me yesterday, but I made that up. It was the Saint who came to me. I remembered what Historia said and asked for her help. She turned on you so easily. A most unexpected stroke of luck. I’m meant to take other measures entirely, and that brings us to you.”
Chronos began rolling up his sleeve. His arm was covered in a dark red sigil. But was it a sigil? The writings were crawling all over his arm, like they were alive.
“It’s called Control. Meld with a secret spell, and one ends up like this. I’m sure the real witches have melded far better than I have.”
With a rueful grin, Chronos put his hand on Rogue’s head and spoke a word he could not comprehend.
“■■■■”
It was unlike any language used in this world.
Was that an incantation?
“A word of purity to command a spell. And the order I gave was to reverse the flow of time.”
Reverse it? So he wasn’t aging him? Rogue was confused.
“Let’s make a deal. With this spell, I can extend your life indefinitely. Do you know how old the heads of the Two Great Noble Houses are? It’s absurd. Join me, and you can reap that benefit.”
“……A deal?”
“Indeed. An ally of your skill would be a real asset and grant me access to information from inside the bureau. And you’d be immortal. Not a bad offer, is it?”
Chronos smiled with something approaching benevolence.
For a second, it almost got to Rogue.
But there was one point he could not abide.
“……One question.”
“Go ahead,” Chronos said, smile broadening.
“……You said you planned to bring back the age of witches. How many sacrifices has that incurred?”
That smile crumbled. Chronos arched an eyebrow, as if searching his memory.
“I think it’s over a hundred, but I’ve rather lost count. I aged most of them prematurely with Control, but I eliminated a few of them by reversing time. Including the people who once worked here… My count may be off.”
The more he talked, the faster Rogue’s heart raced.
The Lifetaker had a purpose. And Rogue didn’t give a damn. Chronos was fooling himself with flimsy veneer, justifying the games he played with his newfound spell.
And now that he was sure of that, Rogue was done.
“……You.”
“Oh? What?”
“You piece of shit!”
Rogue tried to bite Chronos’s ankle, but he was easily dodged and got a kick to his chin instead.
“_____________________!”
“Oh dear. No deal? I really thought that would work. Now I suppose I must eliminate you.”
Rogue’s head shook, his vision rocked.
The fury lit a fire within him, but his body was turning cold. He felt no heat at his fingertips.
______Is this how I die?
Betrayed by his own side, accomplishing nothing?
“Hngh?”
Chronos looked baffled.
“What are you doing?”
Rogue didn’t answer.
Instead, he kept on wriggling. His limbs were tied, but this way, he could move a little.
“You can’t get away. Are you that desperate to flee? You’re such a disappointment, Detective.”
He could say whatever he liked. If Rogue died there, who would know what this crook had done?
He wasn’t about to die without exposing this asshole’s crimes.
He had to leave some trace behind—
“The fun is gone. Die now.”
Chronos raised a hand.
______Oh.
And then pain burst in the madman’s shoulder. Blood gushed out, raining down on Rogue. Chronos fell to the ground, rolling.
“Aughhhhhhhhh!”
The man looked horrified.
“Nice to see you still alive, Rogue.”
A familiar voice came from above.
“I didn’t think guns would be so easy to aim,” Miseria said. She was perched on a shipping container, looking over the pistol in her hand.
“M-Miseria!”
“At last, you use my name. But you didn’t need to wait for this.”
She flashed an impish grin at him.
“N-not the time!” Rogue yelled, his emotions in turmoil.
“That’s fair enough.”
Miseria jumped down from the container, landing without a sound. Her blue eyes were on Chronos.
“______Eek!”
“Now, now, don’t be frightened! You’re a man!” Miseria shrugged.
“……You’re the Puppeteer! You brainwash people!” Chronos yelped, backing away. “But the effective range is limited!”
“Hmm, so it is. But I already have your mind in my clutches.”
Miseria took a step forward, then frowned. “Hm? You’re going to get in my way, Catherine?”
Catherine had stepped forward as well, placing herself between them.
“……I’ve released the spell,” Catherine whispered.
“R-right! Slow her down! I can’t afford to die here! I’m bringing back the age of witches!”
Chronos got up and ran off.
“Wait! Come back here!” Rogue yelled, but Chronos vanished into the maze of containers. “Dammit!”
Even as he swore, Miseria snapped her fingers, and his bindings were severed. He looked up at her, surprised.
“Go after him.” She grinned. “You’re longing to give him a piece of your fist, yes?”
“You bet!” Rogue grinned back.
He wanted nothing more.
Watching Rogue run off, Catherine said, “He’s going to get himself killed.”
Miseria was doing stretches, not even glancing his way.
“I feel like I’ve heard that before. Our Rogue is a tough cookie. I’m not concerned.” Catherine’s waterworks had dried up. She glared at Miseria, not even bothering to dry them. “Oh, did I say something to vex you? Apologies, I never could read emotions.”
“You never shut up anyway. How’d you even get here? I made sure detection spells wouldn’t work.”
“Ask your bosom,” Miseria said, thumping her own chest. Catherine checked hers without really taking her eyes off the other witch. She soon found a fly-sized gadget stuck to the outside of her underwear.
______One of Angene’s bugs!
“But how……?!” Catherine wailed.
“You should really make friends with the people around you. Especially the girl who does our laundry.”
Rico.
Catherine gritted her teeth.
Miseria was a powerful foe. Not just in spellcraft—she was adept at getting one step ahead of people. Better not let her keep talking.
“Fairy…,” she whispered, spreading her arms, palms upward.
On her left—wind howled, the light orbs appearing just above her palm. A swirling vortex centered on the light, pulling all the dust into it. It started like a dust devil but soon grew to reach the warehouse roof.
On her right—a red orb appeared. It was as small as a baseball at first, but it grew by the second from the size of a baseball to a volleyball to a balance ball, stopping only when it was as large as a car.
The wind whipped both their hair, and the heat of the red orb scorched their skin.
“Nice spells,” Miseria said, impressed. “Blade and Shining? Is that not over the collar’s limitations?”
“Not a problem. You should worry more about your fate.”
“Oh, I’m very concerned. Once you’ve ground me into mincemeat, you might as well bake me into a hamburger.”
“Why are you like this?!”
Misera made a joke of everything, deftly dodging Catherine’s emotional outbursts and infuriating her further.
And those eyes.
…That blue gaze shot through her, like she already had a handle on everything about Catherine.