A/N READ THE ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END. REMEMBER THAT REM, RAM, AND TEREDA ARE FLAWED NARRATORS AND CAN ONLY KNOW THE INFO THEY ALREADY DO.
Ram POV
Rem stood beside me, her brow furrowed, her gaze fixed on Tereda with a worry that mirrored my own.
He looked… haunted. His usual cocky grin was replaced by a grim line, his eyes shadowed, his posture rigid. He clutched a vial in his hand, the shimmering golden liquid within a stark contrast to the darkness that seemed to cling to him.
"A cleansing potion," he explained, his voice flat, devoid of its usual energy. "To flush out the blockages."
He glanced at us, a flicker of warning in his eyes. "Stand back. This might get messy."
Messy? What did messy even mean in this context? My curiosity warred with a growing sense of unease.
Normally, potions of cleansing would exude a maximum of a bathtub of gross junk.
Rem and I exchanged a wary look, then retreated a safe distance.
Tereda uncorked the vial and drank the potion in a single gulp.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a shudder went through him, a ripple of foul energy that spread outwards, making the air crackle with the smell of evil.
His face contorted in pain, his hands clenched into fists, his body trembling violently.
Then-
Black ooze, thick and viscous, erupted from his pores- not just a trickle, but a torrent of foul-smelling sludge that rapidly pooled on the cobblestones, spreading outwards with alarming speed.
The stench was overwhelming, a noxious blend of chemicals, rot, and something else, something ancient and unsettling that pricked at my Oni senses.
Within seconds, the ooze wasn't just pooling; it was rising, a black tide that quickly engulfed the street, lapping at our ankles, then our knees. It was a grotesque spectacle, a visceral manifestation of whatever hidden burden he'd been carrying for so long.
My gaze darted between the rising tide of filth and Tereda's contorted face, his body wracked with tremors, his gasps growing increasingly ragged. A shiver of fear, cold and sharp, pierced through my usual smugness. This wasn't just 'messy.' This was horrific.
Three minutes. Three agonizing minutes we stood there, the silence broken only by Tereda's strangled gasps and the sickening squelch of the ooze as it rose, now chest-high, threatening to engulf him entirely.
I found myself fighting the urge to wade into that foul tide, to pull him out, to offer some kind of comfort, even though a majority of me recoiled in disgust as I backed away rapidly.
He was suffering, suffering in a way I'd never witnessed anyone suffer before, and despite our differences, despite his frustrating secrecy and his baffling disregard for social norms, I couldn't just stand there and watch him drown in that… that rot.
Then, the world dissolved into a blinding white flash.
—
A heavy silence was thrust upon us upon opening our eyes, a lingering yet silent echo of the horror we had just witnessed.
Tereda stood between us, his usual cocky smirk replaced by a haunted emptiness, his eyes distant, his body trembling slightly as if the memory of the ooze still clung to him.
My usual instinct, the urge to tease, to mock, to needle him with sarcastic barbs, evaporated. All that remained was a raw, aching concern, one that surprised me.
I stepped towards him, my hand reaching out, hesitantly at first, then settling on his shoulder, a silent offering of comfort.
He didn't flinch, didn't acknowledge my touch. His gaze remained fixed on some distant point, lost in the depths of his own private hell.
Beside me, Rem moved with a quiet grace, her usual reserve momentarily forgotten. She embraced Tereda, her arms wrapping around him, her cheek resting against his chest. He didn't resist, didn't return the embrace, but I could see the tension in his shoulders ease, his breathing slow, ever so slightly.
The minutes stretched into an eternity, the silence broken only by the soft chirping of birds and the distant rumble of a cart making its way through the pre-dawn streets.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tereda stirred. His gaze shifted, focusing on us for the first time since we'd returned.
"Let's forget this ever happened," he said, his voice hoarse, barely a whisper. "Forever."
He sat down on the cobblestones, his back straight, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes closed. He began to meditate, his breathing slow and even, his body still, yet somehow radiating a new intensity, a focused energy that felt both familiar and unsettling.
He was cultivating his mana technique.
For the first time, I understood the true cost of this power.
—
Tereda POV
The memory of the ooze, the stench, the suffocating agony- I shoved it all down, deep into the recesses of my mind, a locked box I vowed never to open again. It was a brutal, necessary act of self-preservation. I couldn't afford to dwell on it, not now, not ever.
I focused on my breathing, on the flow of chi, on the intricate pathways of the 'Time-Space Divine Death Law,' a familiar ritual that didn't work before, but a lifeline in the storm of my own existence.
Something was different this time. The energy, usually a sluggish trickle, now surged through my meridians, a torrent of power that made my body hum, my senses sharpen, and the world around me vibrate with a newfound intensity.
I reached the second level of Houtian.
Instantly.
No agonizing struggle, no agonizing hours spent forcing my chi to conform to the manual's cryptic instructions.
It was as if the cleansing potion had not only purged the toxins from my body, but had also shattered some invisible barrier, unlocking a wellspring of power I hadn't even known existed.
Three hours later, I reached Houtian 3.
The power was intoxicating, addictive. Every cell in my body thrummed with energy, my senses were so acute I could hear the heartbeat of a sparrow perched on a rooftop a block away. But a flicker of fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the euphoria.
This was too fast, too much, too soon. I risked losing control, becoming a vessel for a power I couldn't contain or control.
I forced myself to stop, to sever the flow of chi, to ground myself in the familiar solidity of the physical world.
"Damn," I muttered, shaking my head, a wry grin spreading across my face. "All those years wasted, all those agonizing loops, and all I needed was a damn detox."
A wave of frustration washed over me, quickly replaced by a surge of excitement. How strong was I now? What could I do with this newfound power?
I wanted to test it. I needed to test it.
I focused on a nearby cart, its driver still asleep on a bench a ways away, oblivious to the world-ending events that would unfold around him every day.
A simple test. A controlled punch.
I threw a punch, a casual jab, barely 10% of my full strength.
The air exploded.
A shockwave ripped through the street, pulverizing the cart, shattering the cobblestones, reducing a small guard post to splinters.
The house behind it, its facade crumbling, groaned as the shockwave slammed into it, sending a cloud of dust and debris billowing into the sky as it fell apart and inward.
"Tereda!"
Ram and Rem, their books clattering to the ground, only for them to rapidly pick them back up and shove them into their soul inventories- rushed towards me, their eyes wide with alarm.
"What was that?" Ram demanded, her voice sharp with concern. "Are you trying to bring the entire city down on our heads?"
I stared at my fist, my mind reeling. I hadn't even used my full strength, and I'd caused that much destruction?
"We have to go," Rem urged, her voice tight with urgency. "Now."
She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong, and pulled me away from the wreckage. Ram, her eyes darting around, scanning for approaching knights, followed close behind.
We ran, weaving through the deserted streets, our enhanced speed allowing us to easily outrun the guards and knights who were already converging on the source of the commotion.
As we ducked into a narrow alleyway, I realized something.
Maybe, focusing on enhancing my body before diving headfirst into the depths of cultivation hadn't been such a bad idea after all.
—
The hours slipped by, a frustratingly slow crawl towards the inevitable.
We spent the morning this time devouring books, honing our skills, testing the limits of our enhanced abilities.
But the shadow of the ice creature, the knowledge of the city's impending doom, hung over us, a constant reminder of the task at hand.
By three o'clock, the sun high in the sky, my frustration had reached a boiling point.
"Alright," I said, tossing a battered volume on advanced mana manipulation onto the bench beside us. "We need a new plan. Hitting that thing head-on clearly isn't working. Ideas?"
Ram, who had been practicing her runic embroidery, her fingers moving with a speed and precision that would have made a master seamstress weep, shrugged. "I'm open to suggestions," she said, her voice dry. "As long as they don't involve another death experience at the hands of an overly enthusiastic knight and whoever decides to come after to totally eradicate us."
Rem, who had been experimenting with a new magical cooking technique, her face smudged with flour and a surprisingly adorable frown marring her brow, paused, her gaze thoughtful. "Perhaps… Emilia-sama could help?"
"Emilia?" I echoed, my brow furrowing. "Who's Emilia?"
"The royal selection candidate Roswaal-sama supports," Ram explained, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, Tereda, you saved us more than twenty loops ago. I assumed you were planning to buddy up with a royal candidate. Why bother if not for that?"
A wave of heat crept up my neck. Damn, she had a point.
If I freaking knew that they were related to a royal candidate I might have asked for their help sooner.
"Well, uh," I stammered, my carefully constructed facade of cool composure crumbling. "You see, I… I thought you two were the most beautiful women I'd ever seen, and I… I'd feel ashamed if anything happened to you."
The words hung in the air, heavy with unintended implications.
Rem's face turned crimson, a wave of giggles escaping her lips, a sound so pure and joyful it momentarily banished the shadows that clung to us.
Ram, however, stared at me, her eyes narrowed, her voice sharp with disbelief even with the slight blush she displayed. "Are you stupid or something?"
I couldn't help but grin. "What? Can't a guy appreciate beauty without an ulterior motive?"
"You're an idiot," Ram retorted, though a faint blush that increased in intensity betrayed her annoyance.
"A lovestruck idiot," Rem added, her giggles subsiding, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
"Better than a pink haired tsundere" I corrected, enjoying her flustered reaction.
"I demand to know what a tsundere is!" Ram demanded, her brow furrowed.
I just winked. "You'll figure it out."
I stood up, my gaze sweeping over the city, a renewed sense of purpose settling within me.
"Right," I said, my voice firm. "Let's find this Emilia person. Hopefully, she's got a plan that doesn't involve getting pulverized by a giant ice monster or knights."
—
We moved through the city streets, a blur of motion, our enhanced speed and heightened senses guiding us.
"I can smell her," Ram said, her voice tight, her nose twitching slightly. "Her mana signature. It's faint, but-"
"Mine as well," Rem added, her gaze sweeping over the crowded marketplace, her expression a frown of concern. "It's stronger now. The Horns Amplified everything,"
I could smell the spices from a nearby food stall, hear the whispered conversation of two merchants haggling over a bolt of silk, feel the subtle vibrations of the cobblestones beneath my feet.
The world was alive with detail, a symphony of sensations that both fascinated and overwhelmed me.
We followed the trail of Emilia's mana signature, weaving through bustling crowds, navigating narrow alleyways. With every step, the scent grew stronger, more distinct to my companions.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and crimson. 6:25 PM. Time was running out.
We arrived at a two-story building, its once-bright facade now faded and peeling, its windows boarded up, a sense of neglect clinging to it like a shroud. A faded sign above the entrance proclaimed it to be "The Loot House."
Rem's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching for her Morningstar. "Blood?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.
We exchanged uneasy glances, then cautiously entered the building.
The interior was dim, the air thick with the stench of stale ale and something else, something metallic and cloying. The remnants of broken furniture and shattered glass littered the floor, evidence of a recent struggle.
We found Emilia sprawled in the middle of the first floor, sprawled on the dusty floorboards, her silver hair spread around her like a halo, her eyes closed, her face pale, her breathing shallow. A crimson stain bloomed on her abdomen, a gaping wound that spoke of a swift, brutal attack.
Hovering above her, a swirling vortex of energy pulsed with a chilling power. It rapidly grew in size, its form shifting, coalescing into the shape of a magnificent maneless lion, its fur a pristine white, its eyes burning with a cold, terrifying light.
Puck.
Emilia's spirit familiar that Rem mentioned.
My breath caught in my throat as realization dawned. This wasn't just any spirit. This was the source of the city's doom. The ice creature.
Rem gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes widening with a mixture of horror and disgust. "Emilia-sama…" she breathed, her voice laced with a newfound revulsion.
"You stupid bitch! Why would you do this?!"
A wave of despair washed over her, her shoulders slumping, her gaze fixed on the dying girl and the monstrous spirit that hovered above her.
"It's no use," she whispered, her voice hollow, devoid of its usual strength. "Why would she make such a contract?! I don't want to save this city anymore!"
She sank to the floor, her back against the wall, her eyes closing as if shutting out the world, as if surrendering to the inevitable.
Ram, her expression a mixture of anger and resignation, stood beside her sister, her gaze fixed on the approaching and growing Leonine monster, her hands clenched into fists.
I didn't know why they were angry at Emilia, but I didn't really have time to contemplate that.
The building shuddered, the floor beneath us groaning as Puck's power surged, a wave of icy death that promised oblivion.
The familiar, bone-chilling cold slammed into us, The potions still worked, however. The icy tendrils slid over my skin, a chilling sensation, but no longer the bone-shattering agony of previous loops.
But the cold wasn't the threat anymore.
The building, its foundations already weakened by Puck's raging magic, couldn't withstand the pressure of the expanding ice and his massively growing size. Walls buckled, timbers groaned, the roof sagged, threatening to collapse.
Then, with a deafening roar, the entire structure imploded, crushing us beneath tons of debris and the paws of a very angry cat, our enhanced strength and durability meaningless against the sheer force of the collapse.
Darkness.
----
I noticed that I could pull the cord back further.
So I pulled it all the way back.
---
Then, the familiar jolt of returning awareness.
12:00 AM.
Well, at least I had more time.
But the scowl upon the two Oni women's faces and their earlier words made me feel there were other plans now.
Rem and Ram stood beside me, their expressions grim, their eyes reflecting the horror of the previous loop, the chilling realization that the very person we'd been trying to protect was the source of the city's doom.
But there was something else in their eyes- a flicker of determination, a newfound clarity that mirrored my own.
"Why the disgust?" I asked, my voice quiet, my gaze fixed on Rem. "For Emilia, I mean. I know Puck's the ice creature, but… it didn't seem to be in control."
Rem's lips tightened, her blue eyes hardening. "Spirits don't go berserk like that unless it's part of their contract," she stated, her voice cold, devoid of its usual warmth. "She must have placed a clause in their agreement, something that triggered that rampage upon her death."
"Like a child screaming that if they can't have it, no one can," Ram added, her voice laced with a bitter disdain I'd never heard from her before with such intensity. "Selfish. Destructive. Unworthy of our protection."
My brow furrowed. A contractual obligation? That made sense.
Spirits were supposed to be benevolent beings, guardians, protectors.
But why would Emilia, someone who seemingly championed peace and understanding, bind her familiar to such a destructive pact?
"But why?" I pressed, my confusion growing. "Why would she do that?"
Rem shook her head, her gaze distant, as if lost in a memory I couldn't comprehend. "It doesn't matter anymore," she said, her voice flat, resigned. "The woman I thought Emilia was, she's gone, probably never existed in the first place, and this city… it's beyond saving."
She turned and started walking, her steps purposeful, her shoulders squared, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
Ram, without a word, fell into step beside her, their shared grief and anger a tangible bond between them.
I watched them go, a wave of understanding washing over me.
Their loyalty, their devotion, had been misplaced. They'd been betrayed by the very person they'd sought to protect. Now, they were walking away, not just from the city, but from the burden of a responsibility they could no longer bear.
I nodded, my own decision solidifying.
A/N Rem and Ram do not know that Puck placed that in the contract himself to be a giant asshole.
They can only assume that Emilia is responsible.