“Hey meow, you got it wrong all on your own, Subawu. Ferri never said one word about being a girl.”

“Don’t mess with me, you bitch—correction, you bastard!”

Ferris giggled, sticking his tongue out with a wink. Crusch seemed satisfied as she commented, “Everyone makes that face when they find meowt. It’s so amusing and never gets old.—Not many have such a big reaction, though.”

This brought an uncharacteristic scowl to Miklotov’s face.

“Mmmm. It is in poor taste to continue this, knowing what shall result, Lady Crusch.”

For her part, Crusch’s face firmed up again slightly as she shook her head.

“It seems that you misunderstood, Lord Miklotov. I do not instruct Ferris to dress like this. All of it is of his free will.”

Rickert lodged an objection to Crusch’s words.

“Though I believe it is a master’s duty to see that a vassal is appropriately dressed…”

Crusch’s eyes narrowed in response.

“It is a master’s duty to see that a vassal is appropriately dressed, you say? In that case, I indeed desire that Ferris be dressed as he is now. Do you understand why?”

“Why, I wonder?”

“It is very simple.—One should be attired in the manner that makes one’s soul shine the brightest. Ferris’s current attire suits him far better than knightly armor, just as I wear my own outfit because it suits me better than any dress.”

Crusch pushed out her chest in a display of personal pride as she spoke. As Ferris stood beside her, she—or rather, he—smiled at the sight of his gallant master.

The sight of Crusch so poised made Rickert lose all stomach for an argument. As he kept his silence, Subaru too could not help but feel his chest stir in the face of Crusch’s composure.

Reinhard remarked, in a voice that seemed rather loud considering the circumstances, “That is Lady Crusch for you… Among the candidates, she is the first to voice her opinion but also the one with the strongest support. Whatever she says, she speaks with a different sense of confidence than the others.”

“What do you mean?” Subaru asked Reinhard from the side.

“The House of Karsten that Lady Crusch heads is a family of dukes and duchesses that have supported the Kingdom of Lugunica since early in its history. The house has proven its loyalty to the nation through many deeds. And the wisdom with which Lady Crusch herself leads as such a young duchess makes her the favorite of the royal selection.”

“So she’s… I see, the favorite based on early scoring.”

Even Subaru, lacking detailed knowledge of ranks and titles, knew that she was only a few steps removed from the top of the pyramid. With the royal family wiped out, public opinion probably favored someone close to the late king.

The faint murmur spread through the hall as people all around nodded to each other about Crusch’s superiority. Apparently, her being the favorite in the royal selection was something to accept as fact.

However, it was Crusch herself who interrupted the murmurs.

“It would seem many here harbor a minor misconception.”

As calm returned to the hall, she nodded with a composed look.

“I strive to be fully aware of what everyone expects by having me take the throne. The House of Karsten is a house that has carried great authority and political influence for many years. Should I succeed as monarch, politics and national policy are guaranteed to continue without so much as a ripple… Correct?”

Several people in the chamber nodded as they listened to Crusch’s eloquent speech.

“I regret to dash your expectations, but I can guarantee no such thing.”

At Crusch’s statement, the throne room briefly fell silent, only to erupt in an earthquake several seconds later.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” several of those assembled exclaimed as Crusch looked up at the dais, her expression unchanged. She shook her deep green hair as her gallant gaze looked past them to a mural etched on the wall behind the royal throne.

“The Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica… This nation has remained prosperous by honoring the Covenant made with the Dragon long ago. Thanks to the Dragon, various crises have been averted, from war, to plague, to famine. The word Dragon has never vanished from the kingdom at any point through its long history.”

All of this was according to Marcus’s tale of “The Covenant with the Dragon” at the start of the meeting.

Upholding the Covenant between the Kingdom of Lugunica and the Dragon had brought fame and prosperity throughout history. As everyone mulled over the meaning of her words, Crusch folded her arms and scanned the gathering.

“For the most part, prosperity brought by reaching the Covenant with the Dragon has been a good thing. If war arises, the Dragon breathes and burns our enemies away. If there is plague, it employs its mana to heal people. If there is famine, soaking the soil with Dragon’s Blood grants the blessing of bounty. And so, the guidance of the Dragon has saved us from hardship and guaranteed our glory—” In spite of the glowing details on Crusch’s lips, her face did not brighten. Under the silent attention of the entire assembly, she remarked, “Let me ask you.—Do you not think it is shameful?”

The chamber returned to silence with an even greater sense of tension than before. But if one were to compare the emotions of its occupants, the most heated, raw anger was without doubt coming from Crusch, standing before the throne.

“The Covenant guarantees we will be protected from any crisis and any hardship so long as we uphold it. And so, we have descended into softness and depravity, relying now upon a change of leadership for its continuation. To think that you take this for granted.”

Crusch’s stern lecture spurred one among the Council of Elders to rise, his voice shaking with anger.

“—You go too far, Lady Crusch! I cannot permit anyone to make light of the Covenant! Do you have any conception of the sacrifices the kingdom has been spared since the Covenant with the Dragon long ago…? Are you denying the weight of history itself?!”

“I have already stated that this past prosperity is mostly a good thing. No words have passed my lips claiming that I myself have not been a beneficiary of its blessing. The House of Karsten was born with the kingdom and has shared in its glory. Had a crisis destroyed the kingdom, my house would have shared its fate. Whenever the Dragon has saved the nation, it has saved my house as well.” Crusch paused briefly. “However, the future is a different matter. Do you think nothing of the pathetic sight you make at this moment? Have you not ceased to use your minds because you cling to the Dragon and the Covenant? When war, plague, and famine assail the kingdom anew, is there nothing we can do but sing the Dragon’s praises?”

“That is—”

“This nation has relied upon the writings of the Dragon Tablet for too long, becoming so soft and weak that it cannot stand on its own power. The nation takes for granted that the Dragon and prophecy will aid it whenever it is shaken. But can you argue that we have strived to avoid such matters from occurring to begin with? A number of calamities in recent years, including the failure of the Great Subjugation fourteen years ago, are things we courted through that weakness.”

Everyone held their breath in shock, eyes wide at Crusch’s declaration.

Bathed in gazes of shock and anger, she raised a fist and nobly declared, “If the kingdom is to crumble without the Dragon’s protection, then crumble it should. A nation too blessed stagnates, that stagnation courts corruption, and corruption brings about its demise. That is what I think.”

“Are you… Are you saying you will destroy the nation?!”

“No. If the nation is to crumble without the Dragon, we should become the Dragon ourselves. Everything that the kingdom has relied upon the Dragon for until now should be borne by king, minister, and people. Furthermore…”

Crusch took a deep breath.

“When I become king, I will make us forget about the Covenant with the Dragon until now, come what may. The Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica belongs not to the Dragon, but to us.”

“—”

“Hard times await us. Perhaps they will be disasters we averted in the past due to the Dragon’s power, or perhaps even greater calamities. But I do not wish to live in a manner that shames my very soul.”

Crusch’s voice dropped. She shook her head and lowered her gaze.

“I have long harbored doubts about the state of the kingdom. I believe that this course of events is a Heaven-sent opportunity to set it right.”

In terms of loyalty to the late king, or lack thereof, it was a blasphemous statement for which one could be cut down on the spot.

Subaru took in all of Crusch’s words.

“The nobles are right in theory, but…”

A lot of what she said is hard to deny, he thought to himself. Looking around, he saw he wasn’t the only one; no one was willing to raise a voice against the girl’s boldly voiced argument. Here was a girl willing to smash the history of the kingdom—the very essence of what it took to be a monarch.

Miklotov, having listened to Crusch’s claims to the very end, passed matters along to Ferris, standing beside her.

“Mmmm. We understand Lady Crusch’s point of view. Now then, Sir Felix Argyle, is there anything you wish to add?”

Apparently, it was the place of the vassal to advocate for the master.

“Thank you for asking, but I have nothing further to add. Lady Crusch’s thoughts are exactly as she says. And history will prove that Lady Crusch’s actions are correct.—I have no doubt whatsoever that it is my master who shall become king.”

Ferris solemnly bowed at his slender hips as he expressed his immense trust. Then his face returned to its usual fawning expression as he smiled at Crusch.

“Lady Crusch, you’re just as incredible as ever. Ferri’s swooning—”

“From time to time, I fail to understand what you are saying, Ferris.—But I forgive you. You would never do anything that costs me.”

The warm regard for Ferris in Crusch’s eyes made the strength of their relationship plain.

With the conclusion of that expression of trust in Crusch, Miklotov briefly set things in order.

“Mmmm, we have finally heard from one person… Mmm, though it seems her opinions have created quite a stir.”

To the Council of Elders and the civil officials, the plans of the candidate with the strongest backing were a thunderbolt out of the blue. It was evident the entire exchange had alienated many would-be supporters. But anyone hearing that speech would harbor no doubt that those who supported her held the highest trust in her possible.

Subaru remarked to himself, “I still don’t know how they’re actually gonna pick someone, though…”

The whole point of this display was to determine how they would go about it. The lack of hard-and-fast rules meant that all he could do was keep watching the debate, mixed feelings notwithstanding.

Marcus, having apparently regained his composure, proceeded.

“Then, let us continue, following with the next in line beside Lady Crusch.”

The orange-haired girl stepped forward with an arrogant look on her face.

“Hmph, finally. It’s Hyper Priscilla Time, then.”

Subaru was in complete shock at the strange combination of words.

“Just now, did she say, Hyper Priscilla Time…?”

Al walked over and stood at Priscilla’s side, giving her a thumbs-up like he was taking credit.

“It would seem that the riffraff’s eyes are all upon my gorgeous self.”

“You used that pretty nicely, Princess. Totally nailed ’em with a big uppercut.”

Ignoring the fact that the looks regarded her less as “amazing” than “bizarre,” Priscilla thrust her shoulders back in pride at Al’s off-the-mark flattery.

“Very well, Lady Priscilla Bariel, if you please…”

“Though it pains me, I shall humor you. I need only demonstrate my majesty to the old fossils and establish that they should simply choose to obey me, yes? A simple matter.”

As she spoke, she pulled a fan out of the yawning gap of her cleavage, loudly snapping it open and using it to conceal her mouth as she giggled. Her adorable looks clashed with her evil, sadistic laugh.

“—The Bloody Bride. What gall.”

Such words of deep, seething resentment ran across the entire chamber.

Thanks to Crusch’s explosive declaration, the atmosphere in the hall was far from warm. The murmurs chilled the air frostier still.

And the prologue of the royal selection had barely begun.

3

Without hesitation, Priscilla cut through the disquiet governing the chamber with a thoroughly wearied voice.

“Such boring, insignificant jeers. I am so accustomed to them that they do not even serve as a lullaby.”

She was no doubt referring to the reaction around her moments earlier, including boisterous jeers that called her the Bloody Bride. Priscilla did not let it bother her, nor did she make any attempt to refute them.

Following Priscilla’s statement, Miklotov interrupted inquisitively.

“This has been on my mind since well before. Bariel… As in, Mr. Lyp Bariel? Mmm. Now that I think of it, I have not seen any sign of Mr. Lyp. Where is he…?”

“That lewd old man suddenly went senile half a year ago. He remained unable to tell the difference between dream and reality, and passed away but a few days later.”

“What, Mr. Lyp has…? Mmmm. Lady Priscilla, what does that make your relationship to Mr. Lyp?”

With Miklotov expressing surprise, Priscilla dully commented on the death of her partner.

“I suppose it makes me his widow. He had not touched me with so much of a fingertip, so our relationship is, quite literally, in name alone.”

Al promptly stated, “Princess, isn’t it just a little too harsh to put it that way?”

Priscilla paid him no heed, sweeping her gaze across the crowd as if daring anyone else to complain.

“A meaningless death to end a worthless life. If the life of that old man had any meaning whatsoever, it is in the fact he transferred his entire estate to me. Accordingly, the House of Bariel is mine.”

Her stare only increased the discontent in the hall, but no one actually lodged an objection. Even Rickert, having protested against Crusch with such vehemence, apparently lacked the courage to enter a war of words with an opponent immune to logic. And so, Miklotov replied, “Mmm. I understand, then. As Mr. Lyp was an acquaintance of many years, I regret to hear of his passing… But I see that your claim is on firm ground, Lady Priscilla.”

“But of course.”

As Priscilla arrogantly nodded, Miklotov now shifted the conversation to the vassal at her side.

“Though I would like to press for further details, does the knight beside you have anything to add?”

“Aahhh… Ah, me?”

Al’s yawning reply did a splendid job of drawing the antagonism all around him. It was as if the servant was cooling off the heat that his master had brough to the hall.

“Yes, you. Your attire is highly unusual. I have not seen you among the Knights of the Royal Guard…and your helm?”

“Oh, can you tell? This was made in Volakia down south. It was a lot of trouble getting it out of there. It’s tough, so it’s held up for a long while. Also, it looks cool, so it’s pretty important.”

“A Volakia Empire…? Then, you are not assigned to the Knights of the Royal Guard.”

“I’ve cut all my connections to Volakia. Now I’m a wanderer who goes with the flow… So please, just call me Al. Also, you seem a little upset that I’m not showing you my face… Can you gimme a break on that?”

Al’s profusion of rude statements drew even sharper glares. Under so much attention, Al deftly slipped his one hand under the chin of his helmet and began to lift it up.

“Urk—!”

Out of the blue, someone let out a pained cry as the helm rose to about mouth level. It was hard to blame him for that. After all, the visible part of Al’s face was blanketed with old scars from burns, cuts, and perhaps other sources still.

It was no exaggeration to say his scars were ten times as bad as Subaru’s.

“So y’see, my face is a sorry sight. That’s why I hope you permit me the discourtesy of keeping my face covered in front of everyone.”

Marcus interrupted.

“This may be an even greater discourtesy… If you hail from Volakia with such wounds, were you a Sword Slave by any chance?”

“Hehhh, that’s the captain of the knights for you. That Empire likes to keep its secrets, but apparently you know a thing or two about the darker parts of it. Yes, I was a Sword Slave, a ten-odd-years vet at that.”

Murmurs spread across the chamber once again as the term Sword Slave was repeated on the lips of many a knight. From the words forming the compound, it seemed to mean “a sword-wielding slave.”

“I take it you were in a battle or two, then?”

“That’s the size of it, bro. I messed up when I was young and lost an arm that way, y’see.”

Al, ever playing the fool, didn’t flinch from discussing the gruesome experience. For their part, those who had gazed upon him with such hostility moments before were now dumbstruck.

But Subaru was shaken by the impact even more than the rest.

Back in the dragon carriage, Al hadn’t said much about his own body. He downplayed the cause of losing his other arm and dodged the subject of his helmet altogether. But Subaru had been subconsciously avoiding that subject, too. After all, just like him, Al had been summoned there from another world—in other words, his experiences hit Subaru very close to home. Losing an arm, having his face scarred up to the point he couldn’t show it to anyone else—that was a future Subaru, with countless scars already carved into his body, could easily have encountered for himself.

If the icy chill running up his spine was any indication, Subaru would never have been able to endure it.

Miklotov spoke again.

“Mmmm. Hailing from the Empire of Volakia… Is that why you came to stand at Lady Priscilla’s side?”

Priscilla replied, “Not at all. It is the result of a little game of mine. From the beginning, my becoming king was as good as divine providence. The result will be the same regardless of my vassal. And so, I am free to select the vassal that I like. As a showpiece, this man is sufficiently amusing and then some.”

“How did you come to select him, then?”

“What, you want to know?—I caught sight of him in a bodybuilding contest I held on my estate, with the winner to be offered the job of my vassal. It was an amusing sight.”

Priscilla gave Al a glance rich in meaning as she replied to Miklotov.

“Mmmm, I see. So he was the winner of that contest, I ta…”

Al corrected him, “Nah, I didn’t win it. Life’s not kind enough for a one-armed guy to beat a pack of beefy bodybuilders. I was lucky to round out the top five at the victory ceremony.”

Miklotov’s face registered surprise that Al would interrupt even him.

“My word. Then how did you become Lady Priscilla’s vassal…?”

Priscilla straightened with pride as she gave Al’s back a hard slap.

“I told you. I am free to pick whomever I please.”

Al yelped a loud, dry Ahhnn! audible to all, as she continued, “To begin with, my keen eyes allowed me to discern that he is a physical wonder, far more than a collection of dim-witted louts overconfident in their muscle-bound arms. And more than that, only he boasted an escape from Volakia and a birth beyond the Great Waterfalls.”

Priscilla briskly concluded her tale, loudly stomping with a high heel as all eyes fell upon her.

“And so, I selected Al to be my vassal. It is providence that my selection of Al, and my path to become king, shall both shine in accordance with my glory.”

She did not bear even the smallest molecule of doubt or hesitation. She was so full of confidence it was frightening.

“You say that…Heaven has chosen you…?”

“But of course. After all, nothing happens in this world that is does not benefit me. Furthermore, ’tis I who is worthy of becoming king, and no other. You need only bow before me and serve.”

Everyone was agape at her insolent declaration. The only one unaffected by her haughtiness was the man who called the girl his master.

“Princess, what’s your basis for all that?”

“ ’Tis very simple. Serving me means siding with the winner. You may have anything you desire; I allow it. But I shall not permit you to serve anyone else. That is all.”

Priscilla brushed her orange hair back, raising her hand in a lofty wave toward the heavens. It was a gesture that meant, I have said all that there is to say. With that, she turned her back to the Council of Elders on the dais and walked away. Before turning his back to follow, her knight looked up at the dais and said, “You might not like how she says it, but Princess is on the money. If she wants something, so long as she doesn’t change her mind, she gets it.—That’s because the heavens themselves have chosen Priscilla. I’m sure you’ve heard how the old… Er, Mr. Lyp’s lands have bounced back lately?”

Al sent a meaningful look in Marcus’s direction.

“We have already confirmed this for ourselves. Following the passing of Mr. Lyp Bariel, Lady Priscilla took control of policy within his lands…resulting in the region’s unprecedented prosperity.”

“Well, don’t mistake that as us working hard for the sake of everyone else or something, okay? Princess’s guesses are always on the mark like she’s a natural. She’s just right about everything, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“”

“Well, if you’re under Princess, you can do whatever you want. If you’re gonna bet on the winning horse, I think it’s best to do it sooner rather than later, though.”

It was as if both master and servant, so full of confidence, had forgotten their humility back in their mothers’ wombs. When they returned to their place among the candidates, the tension in the air relaxed as a matter of course.

“A cross-dressing guy and pretty-girl combo, a rich widow and a guy from another world, this is totally genre-breaking stuff here…”

As Subaru murmured, the royal selection ceremony continued on. The next person called by Marcus was the girl with violet hair.

“Next, then, is Lady Anastasia, and her knight, Sir Julius Juukulius. Come forward!”

The girl reacted elegantly, but Priscilla had left vestiges of feverish agitation hovering over the chamber. That was when Julius lifted a hand up to the sky and swung it downward. The dry crackle echoed, forcing an inescapable change in the atmosphere.

To this generous deed, Anastasia said, “Thank you kindly,” smiling pleasantly as she advanced. Julius stood at her side.

—Thus the most conventional-looking master and servant advanced to the fore.

Faced with the next royal candidate, Subaru cleared his thoughts and focused ahead once more.

4

Anastasia smiled warmly.

“If y’all expect me to be as intense as those last two, I’m in a bit of a bind. I doubt you’d want me to come on too strong, so I guess my gimmick is that I don’t have one.”

Her demeanor and pleasant smile relaxed some of the tension in the room.

“Now then, I—Anastasia Hoshin—will speak for a spell. I hope you’ll forgive my indiscretion, since I’m an outsider and all.”

Julius stroked the front of his hair in an unnecessarily polished motion to draw attention to himself.

“I am Lady Anastasia’s knight, Julius Juukulius. Please be gentle with her.”

Subaru finally reasoned that the talk about her “gimmick” was a high-level joke. But what he couldn’t get out of his head was the contrast of Anastasia’s accent. Apparently, Subaru wasn’t the only one who noticed, as Miklotov asked, “With that peculiar accent, are you a native of Kararagi, then?”

“Exactly. I was born in Kararagi to the lowest class in the League of Free Trading Cities.”

Miklotov’s eyes narrowed slightly at that.

“Mmmm. The lowest class—then what is your connection to Lugunica?”

If lowest class meant the same thing there that it did in Lugunica, Anastasia was born a commoner. Depending on the meaning of the term, it could imply something even lower.

“I was born in the lowest class, but now I have a right proper mansion in the city. I have stores in a host of other cities… That’s how I first imposed on Lugunica.”

Julius added, “She serves as chairwoman of the Hoshin Company, the most influential company in Kararagi. For many years, this position in her nation was occupied by the Lushika Industrial Company, but thanks to Lady Anastasia’s personal commercial genius, it was reconstituted under a new name, the Hoshin Company.”

Standing beside Julius, Anastasia’s eyebrows peaked as if she were a little embarrassed.

If Julius’s declaration could be taken as fact, Anastasia’s pronouncement had been humble in the extreme about her exploits. Julius continued, “Accompanying its vast expansion across Kararagi, there was talk of expansion into Lugunica as well. That was the impetus for my meeting Lady Anastasia for the first time.”

Miklotov replied, “Mmmm. So in spite of being born to humble beginnings, she established herself as a brilliant young merchant… I must say, this reminds me of the tales of the founder of Kararagi itself.”

As Miklotov’s lips bent into a smile, Anastasia clapped her hands together, and her eyes sparkled.

“Yes, exactly. I always looked up to that man, Hoshin of the Wastes. When the time came to establish my family name as a merchant, I decided to adopt the name Hoshin in his honor.”

Miklotov praised Anastasia’s spirit.

“Hoshin is the name of a great man known across the entire continent, revered from ancient times to the present. To name yourself after him… I see, a splendid display of spirit.”

Even Subaru had heard of Hoshin of the Wastes. If he recalled correctly, the man was the main character in one of the ballads sung on that world.

Anastasia continued, “One of the great things about Kararagi is how it gave a gal like me a fair shot. It turns out I have a real knack for sniffing out the scent of gold, and it’s fun, too.”

Subaru saw that these statements were creating a considerable stir all around. Judging from appearances alone, Anastasia was younger than he was. Given her age and the reaction around him, she apparently had a reputation as a monster in the business world.

Julius remarked, “Lady Anastasia’s commercial genius is a divine gift… It is no exaggeration that she rivals Hoshin himself. My own lack of ability in this area leaves me envious of her.”

Julius’s rhetorical flourish drew a generous nod from Miklotov.

“My, my, she must be quite something indeed for ‘The Finest of Knights’ to boast of her so.”

But Subaru, unable to accept that last sentence, asked the man beside him, “Did I hear wrong? Did he just call him ‘The Finest of Knights’…?”

Reinhard replied to Subaru’s question matter-of-factly. “That is what they call him. Among the Knights of the Royal Guard of the Kingdom of Lugunica, Julius is second only to Marcus, captain of the guard. There is a vice captain, but it is a ceremonial position that exists in name only, so it’s best to think of it as vacant. In skill with a sword, employment of mana, pedigree, and exploits, Julius fulfills all the qualifications of a knight and is second to none. He is without question worthy of being called ‘The Finest of Knights.’”

“But when people in the capital talk about the ‘knight among knights,’ they’re talking about you, right? You’re really well known, plus you never denied it, right?”

“The qualifications for that nickname are somewhat different. Certainly, in terms of strength with the sword alone, I’m stronger than Julius. I have yet to meet someone stronger than I am.”

Just like that, he declared he was mightiest of all.

Subaru wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but Reinhard wasn’t boasting. If anything, his eyes were filled with envy, his lips pursed taut.

The way Reinhard looked cornered left Subaru wondering what to do, but, faster than he could say anything, the debate proceeded with something that could not be ignored.

Miklotov said, “It is plain that relations between master and servant are very good. Mmmm. Lady Anastasia, there is something I wish to ask you.—You are a native of Kararagi. What is your purpose in seeking to be king?”

“Ahh, so my birthplace really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

It was a natural subject to raise. Nations existed in this world, too, meaning that borders existed between states and peoples. Subaru didn’t know how high the barriers were, but even in a state of emergency, the throne of your own kingdom was not something to hand to a visitor from another nation lightly.

The entire chamber held its breath as Anastasia, surrounded by the tension, smiled wryly.

“Y’all have such high expectations, it’s makin’ me nervous. Unfortunately, I don’t have any high ideals like Miss Crusch, or Miss Priscilla confidence that she’s been chosen for greatness.”

“Surely you are not saying…the Dragon Jewel responded to you purely by chance?”

Faced with Miklotov’s question, Anastasia stuck her tongue out and replied casually.

“Ah-ha-ha, if it was like that even I wouldn’t show my face here. ’Course I’ve got a goal of my own.—You see, I’m actually real greedy.”

The declaration, so at odds with what was expected, made most present doubt their ears.

“I think I’ve been greedier than normal since I was teeny-tiny. The reason I became a first-rate merchant with a nose for gold is because I want it more than everyone else.”

“You want it more?”

“As a maid at the first little company I worked for, I made a couple suggestions to the owner and they were big hits, so I got involved in bigger and bigger deals, and soon I was livin’ so large I forgot I what it was like to be low class. It should have been fun, but I found out I wasn’t free. I was even less free than before.”

Anastasia, counting on her fingers the steps she had climbed, shook her head.

“…Mmmm. And why was that?” Miklotov asked.

“That’s the scary part about greed. The more you get your hands on, the more you wanna get your hands on. ‘I want this. I want that.’ It’s not enough. It’s never enough—and that’s when I realized it.”

Anastasia grinned as she pointed toward her feet. It was clear what she was indicating—the palace itself.

“I’m greedy, so I want anything around. But I’m not satisfied yet. I don’t know what real fulfillment feels like. So I want a country of my own.”

“You are saying, you want this kingdom to weigh your greed?”

Anastasia responded to Miklotov’s rebuke with a robust smile.

“Hey, if that smashes my scale to bits, smash away. I’ll be real happy to have my fill and be totally satisfied.”

In other words, she was announcing that she sought the royal throne out of her own avarice.

“But if gettin’ my hands on the kingdom isn’t enough… I’ll probably use this country as a stepping-stone to get even more.”

“And what shall become of the kingdom if you obtain it, yet it holds no value for you?”

“I told you, didn’t I? I’m greedy. So once somethin’s mine, it’s mine through thick and thin. And if I get an even stronger hankering, I use whatever I have to satisfy it. My life in Kararagi, the Hoshin Company, and all the people who work there, they’re all part of my drive for fulfillment. I would never throw them away. So…”

Anastasia swept her gaze over the faces of everyone in the chamber.

“—How about you just relax and become mine?”

She looked across the chamber with the same warm, gentle smile she had initially worn.

Her way of thinking was founded on desire, but that made her argument very simple. She wanted the throne for her own desires, and, from the day it was hers, she’d work tirelessly for the prosperity of the kingdom. She wouldn’t throw it away, given that her personality demanded she make anything she owned into something greater and grander than before. That was her message.

“Mmmm. Lady Anastasia has surely pressed her claim sufficiently. Do you have anything to add, Sir Julius?”

With his master’s speech concluded, it was time for the vassal to make his case. Both had argued beforehand about the master’s fitness to be king, but Julius stepped in front and indicated Anastasia with his hand as he said, “Lady Anastasia used the word greed to express her desires, but put another way, this reveals the depth of emotion behind her ambition. On the other hand, from a business point of view, she is able to make any decision without emotional involvement, an indispensable quality in a statesman.”

“Mmmm. Certainly, it is as you say.”

“Furthermore, as I stated earlier, Lady Anastasia is a brilliant businesswoman—something this kingdom desperately needs at this hour. Repeated, serious clashes with neighboring nations—in particular, skirmishes with the Empire—have drained our coffers; with the large famine last year, the finances of the Kingdom of Lugunica are in a precarious state.”

Faces went red as Julius abruptly touched upon the nation’s dirty laundry.

“I believe such details ought not to be so lightly divulged in a public place, Sir Julius.”

“The importance of financial reconstruction to the nation has been common knowledge for several decades now. I do not feel any reason to hide this from those assembled here. Do you not think that the very reason the affairs of the nation have stagnated is because we have averted our eyes from this difficult financial state for so long?”

“So a mere knight speaks to us about political affairs beyond his purview…?”

“That’s right. These affairs will affect the House of Juukulius very little. Even if we avert our eyes, it surely will be nothing irreversible for my generation. However, even if my house will emerge unscathed, I cannot ignore the matter of the throne I serve falling into distress.”

With veins bulging from the foreheads of the Council of Elders, Julius looked back at Anastasia.

“However, the Hoshin Company has connected us to the extreme prosperity enjoyed in Kararagi, bringing a fresh wind to Lugunica. I have seen for myself that Lady Anastasia is worthy to be king if we continue along this path. What can you call this, if not fate?”

Perhaps Julius had been overcome by fervor, for his tenor rose and his words quickened.

“If Heaven chooses the king, then it has chosen Lady Anastasia. I, devoted to the Royal Family, having pledged my loyalty to the kingdom, hereby declare that Lady Anastasia is worthy of the throne.—I thank you for lending me your ears.”

Julius behaved much like a stage performer as he summarized his address for the audience. Those attending, mesmerized by his aura, seemed to come to their senses as they looked back upon master and vassal. Yet, even then, Marcus’s calm expression did not waver.

“Sir Julius, may I judge this sufficient?”

Julius, probably accustomed to the attitude of his superior officer, stated, “Yes, thank you very much,” and returned to Anastasia’s side. “You were splendid, Lady Anastasia. It is indeed a place such as this where your flower may truly bloom.”

“Yes, yes, you are very kind. Sheesh, you didn’t need to say that. It’s so embarrassing.”

A red-faced Anastasia fanned herself with a hand as she returned with Julius to the other candidates. Now that the third candidate’s camp had asserted its claim, the next in line was—

After a brief silence, Marcus called the name of the silver-haired girl who had kept her silence to that point.

“Then, the next candidate—Lady Emilia.”

She was the only candidate lacking a knight of her own. After her name was called, she raised her head. From the side, Subaru could see worry on her pale, beautiful face, but, with a look of strong determination, Emilia replied.

“Yes.”

She stepped forward. Her part in the royal selection had now begun.

—That was when Subaru Natsuki had a thought.

5

The instant Emilia’s right hand and foot moved forward together in her first step to the center, Subaru thought…

I’ve gotta do something.

On any normal day, he could fully appreciate how adorable she looked—E M P (Emilia-tan’s Majorly a Puppy)—but it boded ill under the circumstances.

Somehow, even though Emilia’s hands and feet were moving at a normal clip, he noticed that her stride seemed strained just before she reached the center.

The Council of Elders gazed down at her as she stepped forward. And yet, the whispers did not stop. Repeatedly, Subaru’s ears picked up the word half-demon.

Reinhard moved to soothe Subaru’s nerves, raw from the unpleasant atmosphere.

“—It’s all right, Subaru. You need not worry.”

“Don’t read my thoughts like that. Am I an open book here?”

“Foul words are overcome by seeing a person’s qualities before your very eyes. Believe in Lady Emilia.”

But Subaru should have been the one to assert this. Having Reinhard say them to him left a nameless disappointment in his chest.

Following Reinhard’s statement, the chitchat receded like the tide as if to prove him right. Roswaal had advanced to stand by Emilia’s side.

Seeing Roswaal next to Emilia, Marcus, the master of ceremonies, bowed his head with a weighty look.

“Then, Lady Emilia, and Lord Roswaal L. Mathers, if you please…”

Roswaal’s tone was casual even now.

“Yes, yeees. Myyy, following in the footsteps of all these knights, I feel so teeerribly out of place.”

He prodded Emilia with an “Am I?” Of course, he earned no reaction. A normal response may have been too much to hope for given her tension from moments before. Roswaal’s insensitivity rubbed Subaru’s nerves even rawer.

But he instantly set even those strong feelings aside a moment later. After all—

“Members of the Council of Elders, it is my pleasure to meet you for the first time. My name is Emilia. I have no family name. Please, simply call me Emilia.”

Her name, spoken with a voice clear as a bell, seemed to engrave itself upon the very hearts of all present. Her voice did not quaver, and she gazed forward, steady and strong.

Subaru had to wonder where all that anxiety from a moment ago had gone. Emilia, stating her name before the Council of Elders, was not to be outmatched by the other candidates whatsoever.

Roswaal followed, “And I am the humble man nominating Lady Emilia, Roswaal L. Mathers, bearing the rank of Marquis. We are grateful for the Council of Elders’ valuable time.”

Miklotov stroked his beard while directing where the conversation should proceed.

“Mmmm. So she is nominated, not by the Knights of the Royal Guard, but by the Court Magician. I would very much like to hear the details of why this is so.”

Miklotov gave Emilia a penetrating once-over.

To Roswaal, he continued, “Please provide us details about the candidate Lady Emilia, including her lineage.”

“Understood. First, though I believe all present are well aware, I shall begin with the circumstances of Lady Emilia’s biiirth. As you can see from her lovely silver hair, her skin so pale one can nearly see through her, violet eyes that seem to capture the very soul, and her voice, like a silver bell, one echoing unforgettably in the ears, even in one’s dreams. As you well know, these enchanting qualities are proof that elven blood flows through Lady Emilia’s veins.”

A bald old man sitting among the Council of Elders interrupted Roswaal’s explanation.

“And the other half of her blood is human—in other words, she is a half-elf?”

A vein bulged on the large-framed old man’s forehead, hatred in his eyes shooting through Emilia as he spat out, “How dare you. Have you no shame, bringing this silver-haired half-demon filth before the royal throne?”

Miklotov countered, “Mr. Bordeaux, your words go too far.”

“Mr. Miklotov, do you not understand? A silver-haired half-demon with an appearance matching the Witch of Jealousy as handed down by the old tales! She once consumed half of the world; she leads all living things to despair, chaos, and annihilation! Do not claim ignorance!”

“—”

“How much do you think your appearance and lineage alone makes others tremble? You ask us to place such a being on the royal throne? Inconceivable. Even the commoners of other nations would call us a collection of madmen, to say nothing of the people of the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica—the nation where the Witch sleeps!”

Bordeaux stomped his foot, his arms wide as he shouted, his tone and manner frayed. Even this act brought no reaction from Emilia. The atmosphere in the hall chilled at once. And then, Roswaal replied, “Master Bordeaux, are quiiite finished?”

“If you ask whether that is all I have to say, then I have not said nearly enough. Do you even comprehend what you have done, High Sorcerer of the Court?”

Bordeaux seemed like he was trying to cow Roswaal into submission.

“I understand veeery much. Master Bordeaux, speaking on behalf of the Council of Elders, expresses that the reaction of the populace upon seeing Lady Emilia would be of conceeern, yes?”

Roswaal raised a finger.

“Howeeever, perhaps you have forgotten, Master Bordeaux? The issue of which you speak has no beaaaring upon the royal selection whatsoever.”

“…What do you mean?”

Roswaal lowered his voice as he looked up at the Council of Elders.

“If I may, it is preciiisely as Lady Priscilla stated at the beginning. Even if as a mere formality, there are five candidates, so the royal selection may begin. And if it begins, one need merely see it through, yes?”

Miklotov’s eyes narrowed.

“Mmmm. In other words, you are saying that what is important is that the Dragon Jewel chose Lady Emilia, and that her actual suitability to succeed as monarch is…irrelevant?”

“Though it might be a cruuude way to put it, think of her as a stalking horse. Lady Emilia’s appearance is very particular. Virtually no human being can look at her and not think of the Witch of Jealousy. She is easily employed as a pawn upon our chessboard.”

And just like that, Roswaal denied all possibility of Emilia actually succeeding to the throne.

The sheer shock of it was enough to make Subaru completely forget his anger at Roswaal’s earlier intemperate remarks.

He was Emilia’s sponsor and backer, who knew just how hard Emilia was striving to be king, and yet he said that.

Bordeaux asked, “So the royal selection between five candidates would in actuality be between four?”

“Do you not think that reducing the options reduces the possibility of dissolution? The current lack of a king invites other nations to intervene in our internal affairs. Should we not prepare countermeasures to dimiiinish this threat?”

Roswaal’s suggestion sent Bordeaux into deep thought. The other members of the Council of Elders appeared ready to say, Well, if it’s like that…

To decide to abandon all of Emilia’s hard work by the roadside to use her as the stalking horse of the race.

An angry shout reverberated throughout the chamber.

“Don’t give me that crap—!!”

As the echoes died, the hall was silent once again.

The only sound left in the hushed chamber was the ragged breathing of the boy who had called out—Subaru.

With his face red with anger, the back of Subaru’s mind announced, Now you’ve done it.

But it was too late to back out now. He could not retreat.

Now that Subaru had walked forward out of the blue, Roswaal turned his head and gave him a cold look.

“I did not think you were this obtuse. This is not a place for the likes of yooou to speak. Apologize and leave.”

“Don’t give me that crap. I said what I meant. And I’ll add this. You all should be apologizing.”

Gone was Roswaal’s aloofness. In its place was an overwhelming, bloodcurdling aura; just looking at him chilled one to the bone. Perhaps the wavering of the air around him was from a vast quantity of mana.

“I am all the more surprised—at your disregard for your own life.”

Subaru clenched his teeth. The back of his mind knew what to expect—overwhelming power, a vortex of great flame. He recalled the sight of the Urugarum demon beasts in the forest, burned away without mercy or pity.

“If you grovel on your knees this instant, I shall permit you to simply leave. But if you insist on being stubborn…”

The royal selection was the gravest issue for the entire nation. For disgracing it with individual feelings, Roswaal would sentence Subaru to the flame on behalf of the dignity of the kingdom.

The vast danger made Subaru’s knees cry out for mercy. The shaking spread from his fingertips; had he not clenched his teeth, everyone would be hearing them rattle by then.

But—

“I-I said, it’s not me who should apologize, it’s all of you!”

His shrill voice quivered. But even so, Subaru would not kneel. He couldn’t kneel, for Emilia had not done a single thing wrong.

“Veeery well. One can do nothing without power. I shall drill this lesson into you. Though it cannot serve you in this world, perhaps it shall in the next.”

With his final ultimatum ignored, the power flowing from Roswaal manifested in the form of a flaming sphere, so bright that its light dazzled the entire chamber. The mass of fire on top of Roswaal’s hand burned with intensity like a miniature sun, enough that Subaru, standing at a distance, felt his skin start to burn.

“Behold, fire mana of the greatest power.—Algoa.”

With one cruel, final word, Roswaal turned his hand toward Subaru. The fireball launched from his palm, with the heat slowly approaching Subaru to burn him to a crisp.

Subaru immediately tried to dodge, but his body simply wouldn’t move. Perhaps it was because his legs were shaking, or perhaps it was because the knowledge of impending death had spread from his eyes to the rest of his body.

No.

It was because Emilia was standing behind Subaru.

That was why, that very moment, he could not move from that place…

“—!”

Instantaneously, everyone held their breath at what followed.

The instant the fireball collided with Subaru, it was wiped out by a pale blue glow that covered his entire body. The powers of red and white jostled with each other—and vanished into nothing more than white steam.

And as the onlookers gaped, a voice, clear as a bell, spoke with the same frigid tone.

“—That is enough. I shall permit no further violence in my presence. If you wish to continue this—”

Emilia’s resolute voice was followed by a more neutral one.

“—Then I am prepared to wield my power as my beloved daughter demands.”

Dubious eyebrows rose at the source of the voice, but the next moment, everyone noticed it—the biting cold spreading throughout the chamber manifesting the Great Spirit’s frigid anger.

The little gray cat folded his arms, making a small snort with his pink nose as he slowly floated down. His black eyes were frozen in an expression of unprecedented coldness.

“You lowly humans are saying quite some things in front of my daughter.”

“—”

As Puck’s emotionless gaze swept the area, the strongest reactions came from the knights. Their swords were already drawn as they raised their guard toward the small cat floating above their heads.

Subaru, left behind by the shift in events, hadn’t entirely grasped what was going on.

“—Ah? Er, what?”

It was a moment after he was certain Roswaal would really burn him to death. He had thought he was shielding Emilia, but she stood in front of him, and everyone was warily eying Puck, poised in a position to defend her.