Chapter Text
The streets of the slums were empty tonight. It was eerily silent, lit only by the light of the moon, the only sound that could be heard echoing down the filthy cobbled streets was the sound of high heels clacking against stone. They rang out at a steady pace, unhurried and unbothered.
Their source was a stunning, enigmatic woman of exotic beauty. Garbed in an elegant, ankle-length black dress, she was undoubtedly from a wealthy background. A noble, perhaps. For what peasant could afford such a luxurious dress? Of course, that begged the question of just what exactly she was doing in what was indisputably the worst part of Lugunica’s Royal Capital. She did not belong here.
That wasn’t the only strange thing about her. Her jet black hair was incredibly distinctive, its unusual color marking her as a foreigner most likely, for it was not a color commonly seen in Lugunica. It was long enough to cover her upper back, and the front of it fell in a fringe that served to conceal one of her piercing amber eyes.
Her features were fair and her skin was smooth. Her chest was of an average, modest size, but it, like the rest of her figure, was well proportioned for her frame. Every part of her came together to form a most enchanting figure.
Around her waist was a silver chain that hung at an angle, and attached to it was a black bag of sorts, designed to hold a variety of items whilst remaining fashionable. Alongside the bag was a gnarled black whip that seemed to have been made from the tail of some beast.
Anyone with eyes could see that the woman positively oozed confidence in a way that was rarely seen. It was a type of self assurance that bordered on careless arrogance, a conviction that she wouldn’t, couldn’t come to any harm here. Anyone with eyes could see this, but she bore another trait that was much less obvious to the common observer. Something that only a scant few could sense.
She reeked.
An absolutely rancid, overpowering stench emanated from her form. A scent that was a condemnation for some and a blessing to others. Love, some called it. Those disgusting people. She wrinkled her nose in displeasure at the very thought of them. She was draped so thickly in it that she would serve as a beacon for these believers in love.
She was counting on it.
She paused in her walk as she heard a faint noise emanate from behind her. It was a dark, almost wet sound. She turned around slowly and was greeted by the sight of a little over a dozen dark robed figures. Some of them still rising from the shadows.
Witch Cultists.
They stared at her, unmoving. It was eerie. After a few more seconds the group bowed in unison before her. She smirked, lips quirked up in a haughty manner. She was moments away from addressing them when a gasp of shock rang out from a nearby alleyway.
She turned to look at the source of the noise, the cultists doing the same in short order, rising from their bows and brandishing daggers.
It was a man, with neat brown hair and a handsome face. He was no slum dweller, however. His attire made that perfectly clear, marking him as a knight of Lugunica, one who seemed to have been on a late night patrol of sorts through the slums. He stiffened under the weight of their gazes, his normally regal, composed face twisting in poorly concealed fear.
She didn’t blame him. She couldn't. The assembled group of cultists must have made for quite the sight, especially with how outnumbered he was. The cultists were bad enough by themselves, but the fact that they were bowing before the beautiful woman in front of him was what truly caused him the most dread. She was a leader to them, a superior that stood head and shoulders above the ordinary cultists.
His mouth was dry. The leaders of the Witch’s Cult… he knew what they were.
“You… you are…”
"Oh~? It seems like we have an uninvited guest. Well, I suppose it would be rude of me not to introduce myself. I'd hate to be discourteous, you see. I'm above such behavior."
She smirked, eyes gleaming and head held high. Raising her right hand to her chest, she introduced herself with as much arrogance as she could possibly muster.
“Sin Archbishop of the Witch's Cult, representing pride, Natsumi Schwartz!”
Internally, Subaru was panicking. This was such a stupid fucking idea.
***
As he stared down the poor, lone knight in front of him, Subaru couldn’t help but wonder why he’d ever thought doing this was a good idea.
It had been four months since the events at the Sanctuary concluded, and only a day ago that he, Emilia, Ram, Otto, and Beatrice had arrived at the Capital for Royal Selection business. They were to spend a month here discussing the various details of their alliance with Crusch’s camp in the hopes of further solidifying it. At the same time, meetings were to be held between the Emilia Camp and several of the other camps as well, namely Felt and Anastasia’s camps.
In all honesty, Subaru didn’t really have much to contribute to these sorts of negotiations. He was only tagging along in his official capacity as Emilia’s knight. Mostly, he was eager to spend some time with a few of his friends that he didn’t get to see very often, like Reinhard.
That, and he had come up with a certain scheme he wanted to carry out while in the Capital. His plan to infiltrate the Witch’s Cult under the guise of “Natsumi Schwartz.”
Looking back on it, probably not his best idea.
It was a poorly thought out plan, one born from his growing frustration over Rem’s condition. Ever since the Sanctuary, Subaru had done his best to search for any possible solutions to waking Rem up and restoring everyone’s memories of her. But no matter where he looked, he was never able to find anything.
The Sin Archbishop of Gluttony. No one seemed to know anything about him. No one but the cultists themselves, that is. And that was the issue. Even when the kingdom had captured cultists alive in the past, none of them had ever divulged any information, even under torture. In fact, most of them opted to kill themselves as soon as they got the chance. This left Subaru in a difficult position. It wasn’t like he could just walk up to a group of cultists, ask them nicely, and expect them to give him the answers he needs.
…Could he?
He had thought back to his encounter with Betelgeuse and his fingers. The man himself had been convinced that Subaru was the missing Archbishop of Pride due to the overpowering stench of the witch’s miasma on him. The ordinary cultists seemed to behave similarly as well, bowing before him in the forest and listening to his orders.
If he disguised himself, taking care so that he wouldn’t be recognized as Natsuki Subaru, Emilia’s knight, would he actually be able to convince the cultists to tell him what he wanted to know? It was a long shot, he had no way of knowing if cultists would actually show up if he just walked the city for long enough. Not to mention how dangerous this sort of plan could end up being. But… it’s not like he had any other ideas for helping Rem, and the thought of her remaining in the death-like state any longer sickened him.
He had to try it. For her sake.
And so, after sneaking out in the dead of night under the guise of the gorgeous Natsumi Schwartz, Subaru made his way through the city, fishing for cultists. Truthfully, he wasn’t actually expecting any to show up, but they did, rising from the shadows like wraiths to meet him.
Unfortunately, they had a guest. A guest that the cultists around him were about to kill.
Subaru fought to keep the arrogant, superior smirk on his face as his thoughts raced, searching for ways to deal with this dilemma. He couldn’t just let them kill the knight, easy as it would be. But how could he convince them not to? For the cultists, and for “Natsumi Schwartz, Sin Archbishop of Pride,” letting him go would be an objectively stupid thing to do.
Think, Subaru, think! What can I do about this?
Return by Death was always an option, but he’d made a promise to Satella to value his life more. It was a promise he didn’t plan on breaking so easily. Besides, this situation wasn’t so far gone for that to be his only option.
…It would be illogical for Natsumi Schwartz to let this man go, this knight of the kingdom who would no doubt lead to trouble down the line. But Natsumi Schwartz was whoever Subaru wanted her to be. She didn’t have to be logical all the time. From his experience, the Archbishops didn’t seem like the most logical, reasonable people to begin with. Betelgeuse being a prime example of this. Subaru suppressed a grimace at the thought of the madman.
Natsumi’s pride could lead her to be overconfident. To not think things through properly. To prioritize short term amusement over nipping potential problems in the bud. Amusement, that could work.
Subaru steadied himself, raising a hand towards the cultists and gesturing for them to wait. “Now now, don’t be so quick to turn to violence, everyone. This man has done nothing wrong thus far, has he? No, of course he hasn’t. He merely decided to come to the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s no fault of his.”
The cultists paused, looking to Pride for guidance and instructions, uncertain as to what they should do. The knight took a cautious step backwards as he prepared to flee. He fully understood the gravity of the situation. He had no chance of winning in a fight. None at all. The best he could hope for was escape, that way he'd be able to alert the rest of the kingdom's forces as to the archbishop's presence in the capital.
He froze as Subaru– No, as Natsumi tutted, wagging a finger at him as though he was nothing but a misbehaving child. When she spoke, her tone was condescending.
“And where do you think you’re going? I didn’t say you could leave, did I? We were just getting acquainted.” She huffed, shaking her head. “You do have me at a disadvantage, I'm afraid. I've given my name, but I don't know yours.”
The knight stared at Pride, face grim, before answering: "I have no intention of giving my name to scum like you."
With a single sentence, the knight had rejected Natsumi's faux friendliness. Not even pausing to see the brief flash of surprise form on the archbishop's face, he spun on his heel and broke out in a dash. Sprinting down an alley at impressive speeds.
Externally, Natsumi's expression gradually morphed into an indignant, furious scowl. Internally, Subaru was cheering the guy on.
The knight's disgust towards the cult was a sentiment that Subaru shared, after all, and watching the knight spit in the faces of the assembled cultists and their 'leader' was a pleasant sight.
Unfortunately, this posed a problem for Subaru. He now had no choice but to order the cultists to attack. Subaru's initial plan was to keep up the pretend friendliness until he could find an opportunity to spare the knight's life, justifying it through some weird, twisted logic. That plan had a lot of blanks, he'd admit, but Subaru had been fairly confident that he could've pulled it off. However, all of that hinged on the knight playing along, something the man obviously had no interest in doing.
And so…
"Bring him to me. I want that swine alive."
The assembled cultists jumped to obey their lady's orders, rushing after the fleeing knight with daggers drawn. It wasn't long before a scream rang out into the night, marking the knight's capture.
The cultists returned moments later, dragging the writhing knight. A cultist dagger was stabbed into one of his feet, while another found its place in his right shoulder. He was panting, the sound muffled by the hand of a cultist covering his mouth. His eyes were boring into Natsumi, filled with defiance and disdain.
It made Subaru feel sick.
"Knock him out," Natsumi said.
The last thing the knight saw was the so-called Archbishop’s sneering visage before he was brutally struck behind the head. Pain blossomed into existence, excruciating for the briefest of moments before he fell unconscious.
The gathered cultists looked towards Natsumi once more, awaiting her orders. She crossed her arms beneath her bosom, staring down at the captured knight before turning to address the cultists. “Two days from now, meet me in the woods to the east of the city. Be there at nightfall. For now, leave me. I’d like to handle the rest of this myself.”
The cultists bowed deeply before sinking into the shadows. Subaru waited for roughly a minute before slowly releasing a relieved sigh. He did it. It was far from the best things could have gone. The innocent knight had been injured and would no doubt report his encounter with “Pride,” but at least the man was alive. Subaru had also been able to put up a convincing enough act that the rank and file cultists hadn’t caught on to his ruse. He’d been confident that he’d be able to pull it off with the miasma that naturally cloaked him, described by Sloth himself as being on par with the Sin Archbishops. But even still, he hadn’t expected it to be that easy. Subaru had even brought the gospel he’d stolen off of Betelgeuse along with him in case anyone asked, but no one did.
Perhaps none of them were bold enough to make a demand of a Sin Archbishop, even one they’d never seen before. Well, he had nothing to complain about. It had worked in his favor, after all.
Subaru glanced down at his victim, lips curling into a worried frown. “Now what to do with you?”
He couldn’t exactly bring the man to the city’s authorities himself, that was out of the question for obvious reasons. But could he really just leave him here in the slums? Subaru wasn’t sure. He mulled it over for a moment, before coming to a decision.
Bending down, Subaru gripped the man’s arms, one in each hand, and began to drag him out of the slums. It wasn’t easy, as the walk was long to begin with, and dragging the unconscious body of a fully grown man slowed things down even further. Luckily, Subaru’s training ever since the whole fiasco back in the Sanctuary made things easier than they would have been otherwise.
Eventually, Subaru stopped in an alleyway that was right outside of one of the capital’s main streets, nearly empty due to the late hour. He propped the man up against the wall close to the alley’s entrance. He clapped his hands together in apology, grimacing as he did. “Sorry man, but this is the best I can do.”
The knight would be fine. Either he would wake on his own, or someone would find him. Regardless, that led to Subaru’s next issue. The knight would report him as soon as he possibly could, and then, the whole city was going to be whipped into a frenzy. The Sin Archbishop of Pride’s presence in the capital was not something the kingdom could take lightly, and that complicated things.
By tomorrow the whole city, all of the knights, and every camp present were going to be called upon to hunt down Pride. Including his own. The thought of him working together with Julius, Felix, Reinhard, and whoever else to hunt down himself was horrifying. Reinhard was going to be after him, or rather, after his feminine alter ego.
Sure, he could always just throw away the dress and be done with it. They would be investigating Natsumi Schwartz, and she didn’t exist. But that just wasn’t an option. Not for Subaru. This was his only lead, the only idea he had. And Subaru had made a promise to himself, sworn on it.
No matter what, Rem was going to wake up.