Chapter 43 (43) Never Thought I’d See You Again, Linie: 04

Subaru walked through the camp, her boots pressing into the hard packed snow that had turned to mud in the paths between the tents. The smell of cooking fires and horses and too many people living in close quarters filled the air. Soldiers moved around her, carrying supplies, sharpening weapons, shouting orders to one another. The whole place hummed with the kind of energy that came from people who knew a fight was coming and were trying not to think about it too hard.

Some people stared at her turban. She noticed them looking, their eyes lingering on the cloth wrapped around her head, trying to figure out what was underneath. But most of them were too busy, too tired, or too indifferent to think about it for more than a second. They had bigger problems than a stranger with an unusual choice of headwear. Subaru kept her face neutral and her pace steady. Looking nervous would attract more attention than looking like she belonged.

She found a spot at the edge of a sparring circle. The circle was nothing more than a flat patch of ground marked by ropes tied to wooden stakes, but the soldiers treated it like sacred ground. Two men stood inside, circling each other with polearms in their hands. The weapons were long, nearly as tall as the men who held them, with wooden shafts and metal tips that caught the weak sunlight.

The first man lunged. His strike was fast, a blur of wood and steel that should have ended the fight right there. The second man twisted to the side, his own polearm swinging around to deflect the blow. The shafts clacked together, a sharp sound that echoed across the camp. They broke apart and circled again, their eyes locked, their breathing controlled.

Subaru watched, her mouth slightly open. Their moves were so fast, faster than anything she had seen from ordinary soldiers. The way they moved, the way their weapons flowed from one position to the next, it was almost beautiful. Each strike flowed into the next strike. Each block set up the next attack. There was no hesitation, no wasted motion, just two bodies moving in perfect rhythm.

This looks like something from a movie, she thought. Or an anime. The good kind, with good animation.

One of the men spun his polearm in a wide arc, the metal tip tracing a line through the air. The other man dropped low, the blade passing over his head, then swept his own weapon toward his opponent's legs. The first man jumped, the shaft passing beneath him, and landed in a crouch.

That is straight out of Lancer's playbook, Subaru thought. The good Lancer. The one who actually wins fights.

She did not realize she had stopped walking. She stood at the edge of the circle, her arms crossed, her head tilted, watching the two soldiers with open interest.

The men noticed her.

Their movements changed. Not much, just a little. Their strikes became sharper, more precise. Their blocks became more dramatic, more showy. They were showing off. Trying to catch her attention.

Subaru blinked. She looked around and noticed eyes on her from all directions. Soldiers who had been walking past had slowed down. Soldiers who had been sharpening weapons had looked up from their work. A group of three men near a nearby tent were openly staring, their conversations forgotten.

Why is everyone looking at me?

Then she noticed something else. Almost instinctively, her vision shifted. The air around the soldiers fractured into lines of possibility. Silhouettes appeared, layered over their bodies like ghosts. Three ways to kill them all with a surprise attack. A quick slash to the first man's throat. A thrust to the second man's chest. A sweep of a blade to take out the third before he could raise his weapon.

Subaru's stomach dropped.

Why am I thinking about killing random people?

She shook her head, hard, and the silhouettes faded. Her heart was beating faster now, not from fear, but from something else, something colder. Is this the demon instinct? Is this what happens when I stop paying attention? Does my body just default to murder?

She took a breath and forced her face into a harmless expression. The harmless mage look. Slightly confused. Slightly friendly. Definitely not planning any surprise attacks.

She could not take them all on anyway. She was not foolish. There were too many soldiers, too many weapons, too many eyes. And what was the point? They did not know she was a demon. They had no reason to hurt her. Fighting them would only get her killed, or worse, exposed.

So she did what any reasonable person in her situation would do. She cheered.

"Get him!" she called out, clapping her hands together.

Her voice came out higher than she intended, almost singsong. She waved her hands in the air like a fan at a sports event.

And then she realized it was a mistake.

The first soldier thought she was cheering for him. His chest puffed out, and he launched a series of attacks that were more aggressive than smart. The second soldier thought she was cheering for him. His expression hardened, and he countered with a ferocity that had not been there a moment before.

Is this what being the devil feels like? Subaru wondered. Is this because I am a demon? Or because I am a girl?

She had not meant to cause trouble. She had just been trying to look normal. Normal people cheered at fights. Normal people got excited. Normal people did not stand at the edge of a sparring circle and calculate the most efficient way to kill everyone in sight.

The two soldiers clashed again, harder this time. The first man's polearm cracked against the second man's shaft. The second man stumbled back, then surged forward with a roar. Wood struck wood. Metal clanged against metal. The fight grew brutal, no longer a spar, but something closer to a real battle.

A crowd gathered. Soldiers shouted encouragement. Someone laughed. Someone else cursed. The two men ignored all of it, their focus narrowed to each other, their weapons moving faster and faster.

Subaru took a step back. Then another. She looked around for an exit, a way to slip away before anyone noticed she was the reason the fight had turned ugly.

Then Wirt appeared.

He stepped into the circle without hesitation, his hands raised. The first soldier swung his polearm in a wide arc aimed at the second soldier's head. Wirt caught the shaft mid swing, his bare hands closing around the wood like it was a child's toy. The second soldier thrust his weapon toward the first man's chest. Wirt's other hand shot out and grabbed that shaft too.

The two soldiers froze. Their eyes went wide. The crowd went silent.

Wirt held both polearms in his grip, his arms extended, his expression calm. He did not look angry. He did not look like he was trying hard. He just stood there, holding the weapons, waiting.

The soldiers let go. The polearms clattered to the ground.

Wirt turned to them. His voice was low, but it carried across the circle. "What was that?" he asked. "You were supposed to be practicing, not trying to kill each other."

The first soldier opened his mouth to speak. Wirt raised a hand, and the man closed his mouth.

"Medics," Wirt called out.

Two men in white cloths hurried forward. They checked the soldiers for injuries, found several bruises and one shallow cut on the second man's arm, and led them away.

Subaru watched, her mouth hanging open. He caught two polearm strikes. With his bare hands. Like it was nothing. Like catching a ball.

Wirt turned to her. His expression softened slightly. "I apologize for my men's display of behavior," he said. "They should know better than to show off in front of guests."

Subaru waved her hands. "No, no, it is fine!" she said. "I like strong men."

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Her brain caught up a second too late, replaying what she had just said.

Wait. What?

Her face turned red. She felt heat spreading from her neck to her ears.

Ew. Ew. That sounded so wrong. Why did I say that? Why would I say that? I do not like strong men. I mean, I do not not like strong men. But that is not the point. The point is that was embarrassing. Very embarrassing. I want to disappear.

Wirt did not seem to notice her internal crisis. Or if he did, he was polite enough not to mention it. He folded his arms and looked at her with a serious expression.

"That is good to hear," he said. "Because I was looking for Miss Übel and you. I need to test your skills before I let you join the battle."

Subaru blinked. "What?"

Wirt continued. "It is not meant to be rude. But it is necessary. I have to gauge what you are capable of. I cannot send people into a fight without knowing if they can handle themselves. Too many lives depend on it."

Subaru understood the logic. She did not like it, but she understood it. Any commander who let strangers fight alongside his soldiers without testing them first was either foolish or desperate. Wirt did not seem foolish.

Wirt took a step back and spread his arms. He stood in the center of the sparring circle, his posture straight, his feet planted. He looked like someone who had done this a thousand times before and expected to do it a thousand times again.

"I invite you to the arena," he said, his voice formal, almost ceremonial. "To a spar. Nothing too serious. Just a demonstration of your abilities."

Subaru stared at him. Then she looked at the circle. Then she looked at the soldiers watching from the edges of the camp, their eyes still on her, waiting to see what she would do.

Of course, she thought. Of course this is happening. Of course the handsome commander wants to fight me. Of course there is an audience.

She touched her turban, making sure it was secure. The horns underneath felt heavier than usual.

I am going to die. Again.

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