"——
The voice murmured as it looked upon the two tearful figures:
Subaru wiped his tears with the back of his hand and turned to look at the speaker—
She tilted her head slightly, narrowing her rose-colored eyes as she regarded Subaru.
"Where does the name come from?"
"It's… a star's name. From where I'm from, anyway."
"Indeed. Not very poetic of you, Barusu. But do you really understand?"
Ram's gaze, still narrowed, shifted toward the two who were embracing each other.
That alone was enough for Subaru to grasp what Ram was getting at.
It was, naturally, a point that had been debated at length on the way to this guest room.
"For a greater purpose, I understand—but do you truly comprehend what it means to make use of a Sin Archbishop?"
"——. Of course, I've thought about it. I can't very well say I understand, but…"
"Then stop."
"—!"
Struck by those cold, hard words, Subaru's throat let out a small groan of pain.
But Ram showed no indulgence for the hurt he felt. She repeated herself once more, her gaze unwavering.
"If you don't truly understand, then stop. You need to understand what it means to meet my eyes."
As she said this, Ram reached out the hand that had been propping up her cheek and touched the thin shoulder beside her.
It belonged to
Her dark, round pupils trembled under Subaru's gaze.
"I am well aware of Master Schwartz's feelings. Through Ginunhaib and the journey that followed, you forced through a great many things. However…"
"Tanza."
"However, even though Master Schwartz went so far as to bring along Lady Cecils, I cannot help but believe that he should not bring a Sin Archbishop along."
With quiet resolve, Tanza steadied the wavering light in her eyes and looked directly at Subaru. She spoke without any attempt to butter him up or choose flattering words, simply stating her honest opinion. It was precisely because Tanza—young as she was—had such integrity that her words sank into Subaru's heart.
"…Yeah, I was being an idiot."
Taking Tanza's words to heart, Subaru keenly felt the truth in Ram's words once more.
And this was exactly the wrong kind of weight that
"I do understand. I've been told enough times—I'm prepared to shoulder all of it."
"Good. Let me make one thing clear: no matter what Barusu or Rem say, Ram will not forgive you."
"…Sister…"
"Don't, Rem. Your kindness is something I'm proud of as your sister, but that and this are separate matters."
Still clutching Spica tightly, Rem looked at Ram with tear-filled eyes. But Ram shook her head at her sister's gaze, firmly asserting her position.
Of course. Ram, too, was a victim of "Gluttony"—her other half, Rem, had been taken from her.
To suggest that her position was the same as Subaru's would be presumptuous.
That was why— "You're not even standing at the threshold of asking for forgiveness. The only reason I haven't torn that girl—Spica—to shreds right now is because of the 'memories' issue. Nothing more."
"…If something were to happen to Spica while we don't know how to restore the 'memories'…"
"If there were even the slightest chance that Rem's 'memories' might never return, I would not allow it. Rem may have said she'd be fine without them, but Ram will not accept that. I will make Rem herself remember—not just who Ram is, but how much Ram loved Rem."
With that declaration to restore love with absolute certainty, Ram's conclusion was the same as it had been before.
When the battle at the
However— "The difference compared to that Sin Archbishop is that she's comparatively cooperative. That's about it."
"Ram…"
"Drop that expression. Listen: if you want forgiveness, making amends comes first. That is only right. Though I'm sure you've already been told that."
"…Yeah."
Subaru nodded at Ram's words and pressed his small fist against his chest.
She was exactly right. What was being permitted for Spica right now was an act of generous clemency. Those involved in her case had extended the suspension of her punishment based on her actions and her usefulness.
All Subaru could do was give her the name that served as his own resolution to live again, and help ensure that more people would agree to extend the suspension period.
"For the time being, Spica… can you, by any chance, use the power of your authority to cleanly restore Rem's 'memories' and 'name'?"
"Mm, au…"
"I figured that might be asking too much…"
Nestled against Rem's shoulder, Spica shook her head apologetically. She opened and closed her hands a few times, but it seemed that freely wielding the authority—and returning what the Gluttony siblings had collected—was no simple task.
"…Is it really possible? For Rui-chan—no, Spica-chan—to bring back the 'memories' that I and the others have lost?"
"At the very least, the person most likely to be able to do it is Spica, and being able to do it is the minimum requirement. That in itself is separate from the matter of 'Star Reader.'"
Rem was worried too, but Spica had to become capable of it.
That was the prerequisite for carrying the cross of "Louis" and walking forward.
For that, Spica had to master the use of Gluttony's authority— "——"
"—? Um?"
A fleeting, momentary dread sealed her words and made Rem's eyes tremble.
She knew the clemency Ram had offered, the conditions needed to claim it, and the means by which it had to be achieved—and she understood that the existence of the authority was terrifying.
To stop being an unforgivable Sin Archbishop, one had to keep using the authority that Sin Archbishops wielded. The horror of that—of Spica's way of living drawing closer once more to "Louis Arneb."
To keep Spica alive meant continuing to fight against that terror.
And knowing all of that, resolving herself— "—I need you to do that. I'm counting on you, Spica."
"Ow! Au au!"
With blue eyes that held a clear resolve, Spica nodded vigorously at Subaru's words.
The Spica before them and the vile "Louis Arneb"—they might look the same on the outside, but their hearts did not overlap. That was the hope Subaru could truly believe in.
"Tanza, I'm sorry I couldn't take your advice."
"—Did you think I'd laugh it off and forgive you, as usual?"
Subaru turned away from Rem and Spica, then looked back toward Tanza. His voice had dropped, and Tanza responded with a rigid, emotion-laden tone.
To that reply, Subaru gave a shrug.
"No. Because you almost never smile at me."
"That's not the…"
"I understand perfectly. But give me time."
"…If that is what you wish, there are countless approaches you could take. Simply tell them that her power is for the Volakia Empire's benefit, and by extension, for saving Lady Yorna's life—that alone would suffice."
Tanza pressed her lips together tightly and urged Subaru forward.
Setting aside the reliability of the Star Reader's prophecy, if Spica's presence was indispensable to this fight—and if that argument were pushed—Tanza, whose beloved Yorna's life hung in the balance, could not refuse.
But that was exactly the method Subaru could not abide.
"It might work to manipulate you that way, and I could probably get you to go along with it. But I don't want to. I don't want to use dirty tricks on anyone. Especially you."
"…Then, Master Schwartz, I'm afraid it is impossible."
Tanza hugged her thin arms and finally averted her gaze from Subaru.
At both her gesture and her words—being called a coward straight to his face—Subaru let out a long, heavy breath.
The path Subaru wanted to walk was always one that hurt the people around him, the people who cared about him.
"So? How did the cowardly, underhanded Barusu manage to talk his way through out there?"
Ram's remark drew a wry smile from Subaru.
Ram was kind in not letting him wallow in self-deprecation like that. She was right—it would have been nice if he could have handled it properly.
"I didn't handle it properly at all. There was a way I could have redone things until I got them right…"
For example, on the Gladiator Island, Subaru could have done it without hesitation.
When heading down the wrong path, when approaching an unwanted relationship, there was always the option to retry—the simple willingness to repeat trial and error.
"But now that I've reunited with everyone, I don't want to do that."
As he spoke, Subaru ran his tongue across the inside of his mouth, confirming by feel that the packet he had long kept concealed behind his back molar—the poison packet—was no longer there, and closed his eyes.
Even if he ever had to rely on that method again, it must never be used to look away from the mistakes in his relationships.
It was because he had steeled that resolve so firmly— "—And Otto punched me so hard for it."
That the path he walked demanded sacrifice—and that he must never repeat it.
△▼△▼△▼△ "Big Bro Otto, I'll heal it, so show me your hand!"
At those words, Otto looked back at Garfiel's face standing in front of him.
This rough-looking boy was, despite appearances, remarkably sensitive inside. Thoughtful by nature with a genuinely kind heart—truly the embodiment of a member of
At Garfiel's offer, Otto shook his head and said, "No."
"You don't need to worry that much. It's not serious enough to warrant…"
"Big Bro Otto, that ain't like you."
"——"
"I been thinkin' about it too, y'know? So I get how you're feelin' to some degree."
Garfiel scratched his own head, scrunching up one eye, then jerked his chin to indicate what he was looking at: Otto's hand.
His right fist, swollen and bruised black and blue.
For a split second, Otto turned his body to hide his hand from view—but there was no point trying that against a trained warrior like his younger companion. And more importantly— "Fightin' a big battle with an unhealed hand ain't what you want, is it, Big Bro?"
"…When you put it that way, I can't argue."
With a wry smile at the perfectly reasonable persuasion, Otto gave in and held out his right hand.
The black-and-blue swelling throbbed with pain, and based on the sensation from over twenty years of living, Otto was fairly certain the bone in his fist was fractured.
Or rather—once he thought that, the pain increased all the more. Whether it was broken or not, it felt broken.
"It's like 'the coward of the Domus dies first in battle' or something."
"Is that supposed to mean someone who's normally timid goes all out on the battlefield and dies pointlessly?"
"Well, I wouldn't say Big Bro Otto is exactly timid…"
As he spoke, Garfiel gently took the hand and cast a healing spell.
A warmth like being bathed in warm water suffused the faint light, and in just over ten seconds, the pain in Otto's fist eased.
"It's still soft from just being reattached, so next time, punch with your left hand, alright?"
"I don't want to fracture both hands. Next time I'll ask Garfiel to do it."
"If I did it, there'd be a huge hole in the wall, wouldn't there? It was your strength that kept it to just that, Big Bro."
Garfiel gnashed his teeth and turned his neck, sending his gaze toward the wall of the carriage.
There—just as Garfiel said—was a slight dent with cracks running through it. And the height of that fist mark was— "—Right at the top of the Chief's head when he got small."
"It was lucky that Natsuki-san was small. If I had punched him in that state, no matter what excuse I made, I'd look like the bad guy."
"That ain't wrong. If the Chief had been there, I might've taken a swing at him too, Big Bro."
Garfiel laughed, a sound rumbling in his throat, playing along with Otto's quip.
At Garfiel's response, the corner of Otto's mouth loosened, and with a muttered "Oh, come on," he used his just-healed right hand to scratch and tug at his own hair.
The freshly healed right hand still hurt if handled roughly. But the pain was a relief.
"Pain is medicine, even if it's the easy way out. …Come to think of it, maybe I should've just punched Natsuki-san whether he was small or not."
"Wanna go punch him together, right now?"
"No. If I went now, I'd have to see things I don't want to see."
Garfiel, who had been trying his best to lighten the mood, let out a "Guuu…" at Otto's answer and lost for words.
He hadn't meant to, but Otto reflected that his response had come across like taking his frustration out on someone else. —No, had he really not meant to?
Could he honestly say he had no intention of lashing out at Garfiel—who he was certain would never bite back and who genuinely cared for him?
"…That's no good."
With that mutter, Otto once again used his right hand to smack his own forehead, a bit harder this time.
Both the forehead that was struck and the hand that did the striking protested with the ache of bone.
—Right now, Subaru should be heading to the guest room where Ram and Rem were waiting, confronting "Louis" and having a conversation.
Whatever was being discussed there, it was a matter Otto found utterly disagreeable from the bottom of his heart—something he could loudly declare he never wanted to be present for.
Emilia and
Still, if he thought about the conditions involved— "—"
Garfiel stood with an awkward expression, saying nothing—which meant he had stayed here because he was worried about Otto.
Both Emilia's group and Garfiel—they all left a bitter taste in Otto's heart.
—Otto's opinion on "Louis," the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony, had always been the same: she had to be eliminated, no matter what.
It was because he believed that and had steeled his resolve that there was something Otto had deliberately not told Emilia and the others.
Since reuniting at the fortress city
"—"
Otto's blessing of "Word Spirits" had a deceptively simple function: it made communication possible with any living creature. His most frequent use was exchanging words with earth dragons and insects to gather information, but Otto could speak with even an infant if he put his mind to it.
In the lean days of his merchant life, he had once earned road money by looking after a local magnate's baby.
Even when a baby's cries weren't words, the intent behind them could be read.
In the same way, the unspoken voice emanating from "Louis" had readable intent—and it held no malice toward others. Rather, it was overwhelmingly filled with affection for Subaru and Rem.
That was why Otto had sealed away this truth and absolutely refused to tell Emilia and the others.
As long as there was suspicion, Emilia and the others would keep their distance from "Louis"—and they needed to.
If that suspicion were ever cleared, there was no telling how kind Emilia and the others would be toward "Louis," what kind of distance they would try to close. It went without saying.
And that— "—Hey, Otto-kun and Garf-kun, you got a minute?"
"—"
The one who knocked lightly on the guest room door and peered in was Anastasia, dressed in a kimono.
With Julius—also in wasou attire—beside her, her appearance caused Otto to tighten his cheeks before he nodded with an "Yeah."
"They seemed like they'd be a while over there, so I figured there was no point in a whole crowd waiting. I was also worried about your hand…"
"We don't need your worry, Miss—his hand's already been healed by me. More importantly—"
"Hm?"
"Being called 'Garf-kun' by you ain't exactly calming."
Garfiel scrunched up his face in protest, and Anastasia widened her eyes. Then she smiled.
"Sorry, sorry. Mimi keeps talking about 'Garf, Garf' all the time, so it sort of stuck in my head. Can't I call you Garf-kun?"
"I ain't exactly sayin' no, but…"
"Garfiel, don't worry about it."
As Garfiel lingered with reluctance, Otto patted his shoulder and shook his head.
With Anastasia and the others having entered, Garfiel shifted his position to put Otto behind him. —Or rather, the reason wasn't Anastasia.
"—"
It was Julius's presence, standing just at Anastasia's side.
Garfiel had noticed the change in Otto's atmosphere the moment Julius appeared at the guest room door. And it was for that reason that Garfiel had adjusted his stance. Otto acknowledged the gesture.
Standing shoulder to shoulder with his younger companion, Otto held up his right hand toward Anastasia and the others.
"Just as Garfiel says—my hand has already been healed."
"Oh good, good. That's a relief then. I was thinkin' of having Julius heal it if it hadn't been, so I guess that was unnecessary."
Anastasia stuck out her tongue and spoke with a breezy nonchalance that was mildly irritating. If she thought Otto would have accepted that offer, she was sorely mistaken.
Otto and Garfiel had been absent during the journey to the Augria Sand Ditches, and along that road, they might have deepened their friendship with Subaru and Emilia's group— "Unlike them, I have not forgotten that the two of you are enemies."
"—Good to hear that, Otto-kun. I don't dislike Emilia-san or the others, of course… but if you didn't react like that, I'd lose my motivation."
Otto's gaze sharpened, and Anastasia answered with a radiant smile. Her expression and tone were gentle, but the light in her pale blue eyes was unyielding, and Otto accepted it.
Even though Anastasia had gone out of her way to cross the border into the Volakia Empire, she maintained clear boundaries for her faction. That was precisely why she had joined this chain of dragon carriages—as the representative of the
In that regard, the issue wasn't Anastasia— "Knight Julius."
"I made an overstep in my remarks earlier. I would like to offer my apology."
"An apology?"
Otto's voice was stiff, and he couldn't help but let out a breath at the reply.
The "overstep in remarks" likely referred to what Julius had said earlier in the previous exchange—something he had uttered during the discussion over the treatment of the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony.
In the sense of expressing his own views, Julius had simply exercised his right to do so.
And it was Julius himself who had said those words to the furious Otto in that moment.
"You've reconsidered, then? That you were an outsider after all?"
"No. In the sense that the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony's authority… that I suffered from it, I am a concerned party. I myself have a younger brother whose memories I cannot recall. From that perspective, I do not consider myself an outsider."
"…Then what warrants the apology?"
Otto lowered his voice and asked with furrowed brows.
Despite having offered the apology, Julius had made clear he had no intention of changing his stance on the point that had tripped Otto up.
Otto couldn't think of any other reason Julius would be apologizing.
As Otto looked at him with puzzlement, Julius spoke.
In those golden eyes, there was sincere contrition and a certain kind of trust directed at Otto.
"Otto-san—I apologize for having taken your role."
"—"
"Your reaction made it clear. Even if I hadn't spoken up in that moment, the same thing would have come from your mouth. And yet, using the single point that I myself was a victim of Gluttony as justification, I robbed you—the faction's authority on such matters—of your role. Therefore—"
Julius cut himself off there and bowed deeply.
And as he presented the crown of his light-purple hair to Otto— "I offer my sincerest apologies. I am truly sorry."
Presented with such an impeccable display of remorse, Otto bit hard into the inside of his cheek.
If his defensive reflex had been any slower, he would have bitten his lip right in front of the other man. The bowing Julius might not have seen it, but Anastasia would have.
That was something he absolutely had to avoid.
"So Julius was insistin' on apologizing for that specifically? That's why I thought it'd be easier to bring up if your hand was still being treated, Otto-kun."
"…I see. Yeah, I was in the wrong there."
"It's fine. Even without a trigger, my knight here is the kind of person who apologizes properly."
Setting aside the two involved parties, Otto and Julius, Anastasia and Garfiel exchanged those words. During that time, Julius remained bowed, and Otto belatedly realized that his own response was being waited for.
That this apology would not end until Otto said something.
"…Please, raise your head."
Taking his time, Otto finally managed those words.
At that, Julius slowly raised his head as well. Looking at the wasou-clad knight—the scar beneath his left eye accentuating the sharp lines of his face—Otto let out a sigh.
And then— "I have no doubt that your words carried no malice and that you meant to cooperate with Natsuki-san. However, you are still my enemy. That has not changed, and it will not change."
"Otto-san."
"I am not a knight, so we will never cross swords. You are not a merchant or a civil official, so we will never exchange words as equals. —Even so, in a position where we exchange something other than blades or words—you are my enemy, and I am yours."
Otto clenched his still-painful fist tightly and made that declaration to Julius.
Julius received Otto's words head-on, his eyes widening. It was not the surprise of someone who hadn't considered the other a rival—at least, the nature of that reaction saved Otto's pride in this situation.
"Anastasia-sama, I should tell you in advance… regardless of what Natsuki-san or Emilia-sama decide, the reason for using the Sin Archbishop lies within the Empire. If our involvement with the Sin Archbishop is used to disparage us, the Empire bears the responsibility."
"—Yeah, we've got no objection to that. Even without this, we're not about to make something like this our own bargaining chip. Right?"
Turning around, Anastasia closed one eye at the well-armed logic Otto had presented. She stroked the white fox fur around her neck and directed her gaze toward another direction—presumably the carriage where Subaru and the others were.
"No matter what the plan is, once a Sin Archbishop is involved and that involvement is sanctioned, people are going to look at you sideways regardless of how deep or shallow the connection is. That goes for the Empire, for Emilia-san's people, and for us too—none of it can be aired publicly."
"—If you understand that, then that's enough."
Nodding at Anastasia's answer, Otto relaxed his shoulders ever so slightly.
Once a Sin Archbishop became entangled in any matter, there was no way it would be received positively, no matter the circumstances. That was the framework of this world—an unyielding truth.
Even if Julius, the victim, made his case, even if Emilia, with her kind heart, paved a path to forgiveness, even if the earnest and ambitious Subaru wished for it—the truth did not change.
That was why they had to lay it bare.
That they held knives to each other's throats, pressing against each other's vital points.
"—Excuse me, I have something I need to do. I'll take my leave here."
Having confirmed that mutual understanding, Otto said abruptly.
Anastasia tilted her head at that. Beside her, Julius was still processing Otto's earlier declaration, his expression sobering with surprise—but Otto could not bear to look at him for long and quickly turned away.
"Big Bro! Me too…"
"Garfiel."
"Huh?"
"I'll be fine on my own."
Otto tried to leave the guest room at a quick pace. He stopped the younger companion who was about to follow with a hand gesture, speaking as if chewing on the words.
It was not that he would be fine alone—he was asking to be left alone. And the thoughtful younger companion simply accepted it, nodding and letting him go.
"—"
Quietly closing the guest room door, Otto strode away with long steps.
He had left Garfiel behind in the same room as Anastasia and Julius. He worried about what sort of conversation would ensue there, but he had no emotional bandwidth left to worry on their behalf.
He didn't run, but his heart was far from calm—close enough to wanting to run that the distance felt negligible.
"He took… my role away…?"
Julius's words echoed in his head—the words he had spoken with a bow, saying he wanted to apologize—and Otto clenched his back teeth.
How admirable that Julius could apologize. As expected of Anastasia's knight—sincere, earnest in character. He tried to summon some such lighthearted observation, but nothing came.
There was only a deeply bitter feeling toward Julius's misunderstanding.
Julius was profoundly mistaken.
Otto would never have said what Julius feared—not in a million years. Not if it meant punching a hole through the dead end Subaru was trapped in.
True enough, it wasn't entirely wrong to say the same thought had crossed his mind. But what Otto could state with absolute certainty was that he would never have spoken it aloud, even at the cost of his life.
He hadn't flown into a rage because his role had been taken.
He had erupted because something that should not have been said—or rather, something he did not want to have said—had been spoken aloud by Julius. That was something Julius did not understand.
And the fact that Julius held such a misconception— "No wonder they're alike, the two of them."
It was proof that at his core, Julius was the same kind of idealist as Subaru.
He believed at his very root that humanity was fundamentally good. But it wasn't because he was naive. It wasn't because he didn't know reality. He knew the reality and still said it with a straight face.
It was the same way of walking in the light as Natsuki Subaru and Emilia.
"—!"
"—Otto-kun, that's a bad idea."
Without warning, he felt someone grab his arm, and Otto was pulled back to reality.
Looking to see what had happened, he realized he had been raising his arm without noticing, about to slam it against the wall—someone behind him had stopped him.
Otto had been about to punch the very wall with his right arm that Garfiel had just healed.
"That healing was from Garfiel's magic, wasn't it? He just finished, and you'd go and break it again right away? Even you'd have to feel awkward about that."
"…I'll admit I did something stupid. Could you let go?"
A low voice slipped out involuntarily, surprising even Otto himself. But the other party seemed accustomed to hearing it and said nothing, releasing Otto's hand.
Standing there was Roswaal—the last person Otto wanted to see. Though he rarely wanted to see him, right now it was especially true.
"That face of yours says you don't even want to talk to me, doesn't it?"
"If you can read that and still approach me, then the Margrave truly has no sense of boundaries."
"Not like you at all—there's no real bite to that sarcasm. You're holding back more than I expected, are you—not?"
"—"
Unsurprisingly, Roswaal had also been present at the earlier discussion in the guest room.
He knew that Otto had been furious and held a hardline stance on how to deal with the Sin Archbishop.
The fact that Roswaal still wore that expression made his intentions perfectly clear: to provoke Otto.
If it were anything else, his skills with people were incomprehensibly poor.
"I'm sure the Margrave understands, but I have no patience for this right now. Unless you want me to set the rats I've bought off on you全身, I'd advise you not to push my buttons."
"If you're ever bitten by rats in the future, that would make you the culprit, wouldn't it? That was actually a useful bit of information, but… I'm worried about you, you know."
"…Worry about me?"
When Otto asked back with suspicion, Roswaal nodded.
At that response, Otto understood that Roswaal was now approaching from a new angle with his provocations. To do that when Otto was already at the end of his rope truly made him feel ill, which only made him more aggravating.
"What exactly are you suggesting, Margrave?"
"Me? Of course, I hold the same position as you, Otto-kun—that the Empire could burn to the ground for all I care—"
"—"
"Oh? Was I wrong? Sin Archbuses are nothing but poison that can never serve as medicine. Rather than thinking about how to use one, the Empire might as well vanish. Just as you proposed to Subaru-kun—abandon her and bring home only those members whose consciences bother them. What a wonderful plan."
With a shrug that practically said "Brilliant, isn't it?", Roswaal's attitude laid bare Otto's own position and made him feel sick.
To then offer hollow words about "standing by" someone while deliberately throwing Otto's own approach back at him—the depth of Roswaal's mean-spiritedness was truly unmatched.
At the same time, even knowing it was the practical choice, Otto was fed up with himself for still thinking of it as the best option.
With Otto mired in enough self-loathing to go around, Roswaal peered into his face.
"There's one thing I want you to know: I think you're doing more than enough, Otto-kun."
"…So the Margrave really does lose his edge without makeup. That almost sounds like you're genuinely trying to support me."
"I have no talent for standing by someone, so I wouldn't try. But regardless, you are doing more than enough. The question is whether, no matter what you do—"
"—No matter what I do?"
Something in that phrasing struck Otto, and he twitched a brow.
At Otto's silent contemplation, Roswaal nodded deeply. He raised a slender hand to his chin, closed his eyes in a face devoid of makeup save for the remaining blue of his irises— "This is a perfect example. In most cases, what Subaru-kun or Emilia-sama wish for gets done. Everyone rallies around to pave the way and make it happen."
"…What are you talking about?"
The sudden shift in topic caught Otto off guard, and he frowned.
The notion that Subaru or Emilia's wishes were always granted was beyond ridiculous. If that were true, Emilia would have become queen long ago—she would be Natsuki Emilia.
The fact that she wasn't proved that it wasn't.
"Are you mocking me? Or Natsuki-san and Emilia-sama?"
"Neither. I simply feel sorry for you. Coming here from Lugunica to Volakia—your birth family's contributions played a part in that. For that reason, I am grateful to you, which is why I'm offering this unsolicited advice."
"—"
"Getting too invested and clashing with Subaru-kun and Emilia-sama is poison for you. I worry that poison will eat away at you, and in time, kill you. Because you are a rare and valuable person."
Quietly, his voice steady and his tone settled, Roswaal spoke directly to Otto.
Before long, the theatrical edge had drained from his words, and behind his mismatched eyes lay something earnest, directed at
At that attitude and those words, Otto remained silent for a long time, reflecting—before finally understanding the aim of Roswaal L. Meiliers.
"Margrave, I understand what you're saying. But I cannot accept the advice."
"Hmm…"
Roswaal narrowed his eyes and let out a sigh tinged with concern.
As he tried to probe the true meaning behind Otto's refusal to accept the warning, Otto spoke.
"I know. —I'm in your way, aren't I? You haven't forgiven me for what you set up, and you suspect I'm still plotting something."
"Oh my?"
"That's why you chose this moment to approach me, seeing my anger boiling over. You probably thought it was the perfect opportunity to remove me with some convenient excuse. But you're badly mistaken."
Roswaal's reading was, in fact, correct.
That exchange had been the closest Otto had come to genuine fury since joining Emilia's camp. There had been incidents before he joined—like the time he almost punched Subaru—that rivaled it, but this was on that level.
"But if you think I'll throw everything away over this, you're sorely mistaken."
"Otto-kun…"
"What was that nonsense you were spouting earlier? That everything Subaru-san and Emilia-sama wish for comes true? Don't be absurd. That's not remotely the case, which is precisely why I, and Garfiel, and Beatrice, and Ram, and Petra, and Frederica, and
Otto was genuinely furious at Roswaal's take.
The gist of Roswaal's argument was this: Since what Subaru and Emilia wished for was always achieved by those around them, there was no need to exhaust yourself by going against it. No matter how you objected, your opinion would be overruled, and you'd lose your purpose entirely.
But— "That's completely backwards."
"—"
"I don't know how far the scope of 'everyone' in your 'everyone rallies around' extends, Margrave… but at the very least, even if I were to side with every single one of Natsuki-san's opinions, affirm all of them, and pave the way to make every wish come true—I don't think nearly so highly of my own abilities."
Unlike Beatrice or Garfiel, he couldn't lend overwhelming power.
Unlike Ram, Frederica, or Petra, he couldn't fulfill an indispensable role.
If he couldn't bring about every wished-for outcome, then what was the meaning of Otto's existence?
"I can't do that. I won't accept that. I can't forgive that. The moment Natsuki-san or Emilia-sama wishes for something and I stop speaking up—that is the moment my reason for existing disappears."
"—"
"I'm sorry, Margrave, but it won't go the way you'd like."
With clarity and conviction, Otto stared down Roswaal and declared it.
He had never before unloaded on Roswaal in such a sustained, one-sided barrage.
Of course, it wasn't as if the tension between them was new—it had always been there, simmering beneath the surface. Roswaal, seeing an opportunity, would move to eliminate obstacles and reshape the board to his liking.
But Otto would not bend. Not for something as absurd as today's reasoning.
"I have my place. I can't walk in the light, and that's fine."
"—"
"That was a poor move, Margrave. You shouldn't have approached me."
He wanted to add that the conclusion hadn't changed—but it had.
Without Roswaal's intervention, Otto would have taken far longer to reach that conclusion and would have wavered along the way. By rushing the outcome Roswaal wanted, he had instead produced one that Roswaal did not.
Just as the bitter expression on Roswaal's face confirmed this— "Oh, Otto-san! There you are!"
The patter of small feet sounded, and a high voice called out. Otto turned around.
Running toward him with a wave was Petra, and their eyes met.
"Petra-ooku-sama—no, Petra-chan."
A habit from his undercover days nearly slipped out, and Otto caught himself, correcting the name. Petra ran up to him, slightly out of breath.
"Otto-san, is your hand okay? I heard you punched the wall with all your might…"
"Everyone keeps bringing that up. Fortunately, Garfiel healed it, so I'm fine. Sorry for worrying you."
"No, it's fine as long as you're okay. …What was the master doing?"
Otto smiled wryly and showed his unharmed hand to the worried Petra. Once she seemed relieved, her expression quickly shifted to a glare directed at Roswaal.
Roswaal gave a weak shake of his head at that gaze.
"No, I was just… reflecting on my daily conduct."
"The master was…? You never reflect on anything, so I bet it was tasteless."
"Oh, wow."
Otto had thought he'd cornered Roswaal pretty thoroughly, but Petra's single remark was far more devastating.
In truth, Roswaal had deflated—but as Petra stared at him with narrowed eyes, she suddenly went "Oh!" as if remembering something.
She turned to Otto, the ribbon on her head bobbing as she spoke.
"Speaking of which, it wasn't just your hand. I heard that a little while ago, there was a discussion about Rui-chan, and then…"
"Ah, yes, that's right. If that also caused you worry—"
"So I slapped Subaru in your stead!"
"—"
She thrust out her small, clenched fist as she said it with conviction.
Looking between the extended fist and Petra's spirited face, Otto blinked in disbelief.
At his reaction, Petra huffed slightly through her nose.
"I heard you held back, Otto-san. You didn't hit small Subaru because it would've been pitiful. So I went ahead and did it for you."
Opening her previously clenched fist, Petra showed her palm. Peering up at him from behind that outstretched hand, Otto remained silent for a long moment.
But he couldn't hold it in.
"Ha—ha ha! Ah ha ha ha!"
He had endured the discomfort of Julius's apology.
He had endured the helplessness of being bombarded by Roswaal.
But Petra's little quip—he could not endure that.
Laughing wouldn't solve anything. The problem remained, and Otto was still firmly opposed to Subaru's position.
Even so—he would keep opposing it, keep saying it wasn't right, because that was his reason for existing. Because Subaru had found a landing point and Otto's role was to say it wasn't good enough.
He would never bow to that.
"Petra-chan."
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
With that, Otto pressed his palm against the small hand the girl had extended.
A light *clap* rang out, and Petra smiled. "You're welcome."