"…So you saw me."
Elsa forced herself to stand, gripping her short blade in her left hand. "No helping it—guess your luck just ran out."
She kicked off the ground and charged at the black-clad mercenary. Though her speed had inevitably slowed due to her injuries, it was still far beyond what an ordinary person could handle.
The northern-style short blade slashed downward, aimed straight at the mercenary's abdomen.
He didn't move.
Elsa thought he had frozen in fear—but when she saw his face, what she found wasn't panic, but cold, emotionless indifference.
Snap.
Her wrist was suddenly seized. An immense force followed, and pain shot through her arm. She reflexively loosened her grip—the short blade clattered to the ground.
Horrified, Elsa instantly realized that this young-looking mercenary was no ordinary man. But it was already too late.
His other hand clamped around her throat. A crushing sense of suffocation flooded in, nearly knocking her unconscious on the spot.
"Urgh…"
She struggled desperately, but her heavily injured body couldn't muster enough strength to break free.
In a final gamble, she gathered all her remaining power into her leg and kicked upward toward his shoulder. At that moment, he released her wrist and smoothly caught her raised leg by the calf.
Twisting her leg, he forced her body to turn away from him. One hand crushed her throat, while his other arm pinned both of her arms horizontally against her lower abdomen.
This time, she could no longer exert any strength at all.
She could only sink, bit by bit, into the abyss of suffocation.
Thud.
Just before oxygen deprivation could kill her, the mercenary released his grip and shoved her to the ground.
She was barely conscious now, gasping violently for air, her body curled in on itself. She didn't even have the strength to stand.
"Feeling calmer now?" the mercenary's clear voice reached her ears.
Elsa's vision was blurred as she looked up at him. His gaze seemed oddly familiar, as though he knew her—yet she was certain she had never seen him before.
You don't remember me, but I remember you.
That feeling was strangely unsettling, Lillian thought. Now he finally understood what Subaru had felt. If it were an enemy, it was one thing—but if it were someone close to you, it would be hard to accept.
After about half a minute, some color returned to Elsa's pale cheeks. In a hoarse voice, she asked, "Who are you?"
"My name is Lillian," he replied. "I'm a mercenary. You understand your current situation, don't you—Bowel Hunter?"
"…"
She did understand.
The mercenary before her looked like a newcomer, but possessed terrifying strength. Even if she weren't injured, defeating him would be difficult—let alone now, when she was gravely wounded.
Her life was completely in his hands.
"I'm quite famous," she said. "If you turned me over to the Royal Guard, you'd get a hefty reward."
"But you didn't," she continued, forcing herself to sit up and stare at him. "Why?"
"Because I think the price you can offer is higher."
"…"
"To the Royal Guard, you're just a wanted criminal. No matter how high the reward, it has its limits. But for you, this is the price of buying your own life."
"At a time like that," Lillian said calmly, "no one would be stingy, right?"
She couldn't deny it.
Compared to the official bounty, he could gain far more from her personally. Of course, turning her in would also bring fame and honor—but those meant nothing to Lillian right now. Worse, they would draw unwanted attention, which was the last thing he wanted.
Keeping Elsa alive might allow him to obtain even more—especially information about the underground organization behind her.
"I see…" Elsa suddenly laughed.
"In that case, I really am quite lucky. To think my life can be bought with money—what a profitable deal."
"You should have some kind of hideout or safehouse, right?"
As he spoke, he began unbuttoning his shirt. Elsa's gaze instantly turned cold, but in the very next moment, Lillian tossed the shirt he had taken off straight at her.
"Put it on."
"…"
Elsa lowered her head and glanced at herself. Her cloak had long since been destroyed in the fight, sacrificed to block attacks. The tight black outfit beneath was torn to shreds as well. The black stocking from her left leg had been ripped off and wrapped around the wound on her shoulder, leaving her long, snow-white legs exposed. Drops of blood dotted her skin, making the sight even more bewitching.
She slipped the black long shirt over herself, covering almost all of her exposed upper body. Swaying slightly, she stood up, walked over, and casually rested a hand on Lillian's shoulder, smiling seductively.
"Young man… don't you want to take a better look at my body?"
Lillian brushed her hand away.
"It's all blood. Nothing worth looking at."
As he finished speaking, his brows knit slightly. Hearing the growing commotion outside, he bent down, picked up Elsa's dagger from the ground, and slid it into his belt.
"Let's go. A large group of guards will be searching soon."
---
Subaru had already gone to Roswaal's mansion. That was where the save point would update. If events followed the original storyline, it would take him six days and five resets to resolve Rem's issue and the curse.
That meant that during this period, every time Subaru died, Lillian's timeline would reset along with him.
Under such circumstances, he couldn't afford to do anything meaningless—nor could he act recklessly under the mindset of "it'll reset anyway." There was no guarantee that Subaru's path would follow the original plot exactly. If something changed, Lillian might end up stuck with a bad save state of his own.
Ideally, he would keep constant tabs on Subaru, but there was no chance Lillian would go to the mansion. For one thing, his relationship with Emilia was still strained. For another, Roswaal's attitude toward him was far from friendly. If Roswaal decided to kill him, Lillian stood no chance against a court mage who had lived for centuries.
So for now, he planned to do nothing else. Until the first royal selection meeting, he would devote all his time to learning the written language of this world.
Time could rewind—but memory did not.
If Subaru really did reset several times at the mansion, the accumulated time would be close to a full month. With diligence, a month was enough to gain a basic grasp of reading and writing. That alone would eliminate a major risk of exposing his identity.
With that in mind, Lillian was currently carrying Elsa in his arms as they moved forward. Her injuries made her far too slow to travel on her own. Naturally, he wasn't worried about her attacking him—given her current condition, it would be nearly impossible for her to succeed.
Following her directions, they arrived at a secluded residence in the eastern district of the capital. Night had already fallen, and under the cover of darkness, they attracted no attention. The royal guards hadn't expected Elsa to escape so quickly and were still searching the slums.
The house was empty. After entering, Elsa headed into a side room off the main hall, and Lillian followed. Inside were several shelves stocked with tools commonly used by assassins—among them potions and bandages for treating wounds.
She took a vial of red potion, a small green crystal, and two rolls of bandages. Then, without asking Lillian to leave, she began tending to her injuries right in front of him. Presumably, she knew that even if she asked, he wouldn't comply—and she didn't want to risk him suspecting any tricks.
She tore away the black stocking wrapped around her shoulder—the most severe wound. Pale bone was visible beneath the torn flesh. Whether from long familiarity or sheer indifference, she didn't even frown.
She picked up the small green crystal. A wave of magical energy spread outward as the crystal dissolved into green mist that clung to her shoulder. The wound visibly began to heal. She then soaked a bandage with the red potion and wrapped it tightly around the injury.
She treated her other wounds the same way. Nearly ten minutes passed before she finished wrapping herself entirely. By the end, she looked almost like a mummy—her once voluptuous figure completely concealed.
She exhaled deeply, her expression easing.
"Barely alive…" There was lingering fear in her voice. "That guy really deserves the title of 'the strongest Sword Saint in history.' One swing was enough to push me this far."