On the morning when Subaru and
The location was the uppermost floor of
When nighttime secret talks were held there, the participants were always invariably the same two people.
"First, let me commend you for your efforts during my absence. You did well striving to contain the situation. Thanks to you, we can say the damage was kept to a minimum."
The soft voice carried a luster unique to men, but its tone was flippant to the last — the sort that brought feelings of bewilderment to anyone who heard it.
Facing those words from Roswaal, the lord of the room, the maid across from him either was used to it or simply didn't care — she bowed at the waist without a trace of concern and, "You flatter me. Besides, in the end, I ended up troubling Lord Roswaal..."
"Ah, ah, enough of that sort of talk. Incinerating a few pests from the forest is hardly any great effort or expenditure of energy."
Roswaal spoke while waving his hand, as if it were nothing at all.
The girl —
"Pursuing responsibility would only be disheartening. Let's have a more constructive conversation instead. — For example, how are things going with young Subaru since then?"
Roswaal cast the question at the silent Ram.
Ram gave a small shake of her head in response, "His body has mostly healed. Lady
"Truly, how about that — it's quite rare. We've known each other a long time, but this is the first I've seen her go so far out of her way for someone. Love at first sight, perhaps?"
"From what Ram could see, it didn't appear to be that sort of feeling, but..."
She answered while recalling the scene of Beatrice's treatment, then composing herself, Ram said "However" and extended her hand forward, "It was thanks to Lady Beatrice's treatment that he was saved. Had she not been there, whether Barusu would still be alive today is uncertain."
"Let's chalk that up to young Subaru's extraordinary luck, shall we? In truth, there are few healers with skill to rival Beatrice. Both you and I are utterly inept in that regard. — We're only good at dealing damage; it's truly disheartening."
Roswaal shook his head, his expression slightly downcast.
Anyone listening would think his words bordered on self-loathing, and that his lowered face matched accordingly.
In truth, however, he twisted that expression neither into something anguished nor into something filled with self-disgust — he merely wore a transparent smile.
From there, Roswaal prefaced with "But" and looked up at Ram with his eyes angled upward, "The fact that you started by shaking your head in denial means this isn't a situation where we can simply celebrate that his life was saved, I take it?"
"Yes. There are several problems."
Nodding in response to the question, Ram paused for a beat before continuing. First, she organized in her own mind what needed to be conveyed, then began again, "Within a short period, Barusu forced his Gate to activate twice from a state of depletion. On top of that, he healed life-threatening injuries with healing magic... Due to the effects of forcing his Gate open and overtaxing it, it's impossible to say how long it will take before it functions properly again."
"Is that the assessment of the Great Spirit and Beatrice?"
"Yes."
Roswaal clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and savored the information.
Damage to the Gate — in this world where life could not be separated from mana, it was tantamount to bearing an exceedingly troublesome handicap.
Precisely because Roswaal held the position of court magician and dealt with mana more intimately than anyone else, he could keenly feel the inconveniences of Subaru's current condition.
He wished for recovery at the earliest — even one day sooner — but, "Gate recovery varies from person to person, but even so, it may take years. It means we've forced a cruel choice upon him."
Ram nodded in agreement with Roswaal's solemn words, then continued.
"And then there is the matter of the curse."
"— The danger of it activating should have passed, shouldn't it?"
"The caster — in this case, the Ulgarm — have been eliminated, and thus the caster is no longer present. Therefore, the curse cannot activate... but the formula still remains within Barusu's body."
"When it comes to removing it, I'd like to hear a specialist's opinion."
In this context, the specialist referred to Beatrice, who was also well-versed in matters of curses. When asked for her opinion, Ram shook her head, "Even Lady Beatrice says that untying such intricately tangled threads would be difficult."
The curse's insidious grip, gnawing at Subaru's body, had taken root more deeply than imagined.
The formula had bound itself to his body to such a degree that even Beatrice hesitated to attempt dismantling it.
Be that as it may, a formula that had lost its caster did not pose a problem serious enough to be called threatening.
Normally, activation of a constructed formula was impossible without the caster's conscious intent. Moreover, this particular curse was of the type that transferred mana from the target to the caster. Since there was no recipient to transfer to, the prerequisite conditions for activation were not met.
Therefore, the formula remaining in Subaru's body was not something that would become a problem if left alone.
However, "If you're raising it as an issue, then it means you've confirmed what I asked you to look into."
To Roswaal's subjectless question, Ram nodded without hesitation. Then, touching her own forehead as she addressed him who waited for her response, "Limited to the ones whose carcasses we were able to confirm, every Ulgarm that was found had been made into a 'No-horn.'"
Saying this, touching the scar beneath her headdress, Ram ignored the faint throb of her old wound and delivered the report to Roswaal in a matter-of-fact tone.
Roswaal let out a breath at her attitude, then creaked against the backrest, "From what I saw as well, it was the same. Presumably, the entire pack had been treated that way."
"But is that even possible? Breaking the horns of that many Mabeasts..."
"It's simple enough — either break them while the creatures are young, or break about ten horns first, then command those ten to attack smaller groups and break their horns too. Once you repeat that process, before you know it, you end up with a pack that's collectively lost all its horns."
Ram showed her understanding of Roswaal's explanation, and watching her do so, Roswaal closed one eye to look at her. The yellow of his heterochromia closed, and his clear blue eye fixed upon Ram.
"However, if that's the case, then things have changed rather significantly. And here young Subaru is, having been our benefactor twice over."
Ram agreed with a quiet "Yes" to Roswaal's languid voice, "Mabeasts whose horns have been broken obey the one who broke them. — That means there is a fool who deliberately attacked this manor, or Lord Roswaal's domain."
"So it ties back to the Royal Selection once more. Between this and luring Garfiel away, they must see us as quite the obstruction."
"Garfiel... What of him?"
Ram raised an eyebrow at the mention of the familiar name and ventured the question tentatively. In response, Roswaal gave a wry smile and shrugged, "Naturally, he flatly denied ever having received any summons. I suppose we'll have to change the cipher and overhaul the method of contact. Well, whether we could even rely on their help in the first place was always rather iffy."
Roswaal mused while touching his chin.
He touched on the matter with an air of nonchalance, but Ram was well aware it was not something that could be brushed off easily. After all, this was a battle in which their odds of winning were plainly slim. If so, then to improve those odds, having one more card to play was undeniably better.
Ram, who was conscious of being a card herself, found it unbearably frustrating that she could do nothing but watch Roswaal struggle with this.
However, her thoughts were cut short by Roswaal waving his hand and saying "No, no,"
"Let's return to the topic at hand. The 'parent' of those Mabeasts — do we have any leads?"
"Somewhat. However, the trail has gone completely cold."
"Got away... or were they disposed of?"
"It's impossible to say which. All we know is that the child who was supposed to have been brought back from the forest by Barusu and
Regarding the "ponytail girl" who Rem and Subaru had supposedly brought back from the forest, the villagers unanimously answered that she was a girl they did not know. The children who had been with her also testified that she was simply someone who had drifted into their circle.
The adults judged her to be an outsider like Subaru, and the children never suspected her identity in the first place. Exploiting both of those psychological blind spots, the side that belatedly noticed her existence was left playing catch-up.
Thus, the prime suspect was the girl who had disappeared.
In this case, her youthful appearance was no counterargument whatsoever. There were plenty of beings who could only have grown up in a world like this.
Hearing Ram's report through to the end, Roswaal ran his fingers through his hair with a soft "Well, aren't we in a pickle,"
"The Intestine Hunter in the
No matter how many eccentrics may have gathered, Lord Roswaal is not the sort to be defeated by that, is he?
"My, my — listen to you, getting so bold. That makes me happy."
The laughing Roswaal beckoned to Ram. Obeying, Ram walked from the center of the room toward the back — past the ebony desk and straight to Roswaal's side.
Then, extending his arm, Roswaal drew her small frame close and settled her upon his knee.
And then, "I couldn't attend to you for an entire night, on account of my own circumstances. You must have had a rather hard time of it, no?"
"I am well aware that Lord Roswaal has been busy. Please, feel free to leave Ram for last, as always..."
"Ram, I've told you this many times, haven't I?"
Running his finger along the chin of the downcast Ram and gently tilting her face upward, Roswaal smiled and, "You and Rem are, in my heart, among the most precious of beings. Truly, if something had happened to either of you this time, I'm not confident I could have kept myself in check."
Extending his free hand toward the ceiling, Roswaal spoke with a theatrical gesture. Ram gazed upon him with a blissful, heat-drunk expression, "Ram and Rem are precious to Lord Roswaal —"
"Yes, you and Rem are precious to me, and dear, and above all, vital."
Layering words upon words, piling feeling upon feeling, pausing for a beat, Roswaal beamed with a brilliant smile, "— Indispensable pieces on the board, I tell you."
Boldly, Roswaal threw those words at Ram.
There was not a trace of guilt or any other negative emotion contained in them — only the sound of someone purely and simply listing the facts within his heart.
Thus, having been told clearly that her existence was that of a piece on the board, Ram received those words and, "— Yes."
She answered with a blush on her cheeks and a rapt nod.
At her attitude — one could call it either obedience or infatuation — Roswaal nodded with satisfaction.
Drawing the Ram on his knee closer still, tucking her small body neatly into the cradle of his arms, he continued, "Now then, shall we begin? You've pushed yourself quite hard too, haven't you, Ram? I told you to hold back, but you drew quite a bit of mana out, didn't you?"
"I'm sorry... Please."
Accepting Roswaal's words, Ram removed the white headdress adorning her pink hair.
Beneath that ornament, Roswaal's fingers parted her pink hair, and just above her forehead, a faint white scar was visible.
— A remnant of the era that had made her of the Oni clan and called her a prodigy.
The scar bore damage from the use of mana, with blood still faintly seeping. Roswaal traced it gently with his finger, "— May the blessings of the stars be upon you."
The radiance of four colors traveled along Roswaal's arm, converged at his fingertips, and in an instant transformed into white light — the light then flowed from his fingertips and poured into the scar where he touched Ram.
— Directly transferring mana to another was a technique that demanded exceedingly advanced skill.
If the distribution of mana from each attribute was not perfectly uniform, the mana would convert into force and damage the target's body. This was a "healing act" possible only because Roswaal was compatible with all four colors of mana and could wield them at such a high level.
For the Oni clan, the horn on the forehead signified the lines through which mana flowed in and out.
Similar in role to the Gate, the horn — having a physical form — was an organ that performed the function with greater density than a Gate, and the body had adapted accordingly.
But Ram had lost her horn due to external factors, and neither the amount of mana absorbed nor the amount expelled was sufficient to satisfy her body.
A body that would only wither if left alone — and so this nighttime secret meeting with Roswaal was conducted as a daily ritual to maintain it.
Mana poured through the scar of her horn, and Ram shuddered slightly, "Ah, nn..."
"No matter how many times I witness it, this is quite the sight for the eyes — and the ears."
Roswaal gave a faint, wry smile at Ram, who was breathing in quick, sensual gasps with flushed cheeks.
Ram cast a sidelong glance at Roswaal and, "If you find it so poisonous, you could always put me out of my misery, you know."
"To do that to someone who's practically my own daughter? My, my — that would be the very picture of a depraved noble's crowning achievement. How thrilling."
Brushing aside Ram's seduction with ease, Roswaal continued the act of channeling mana.
As vitality filled her body and she felt her Gate swelling with warmth, Ram — surrendering herself to the sweet sensation — suddenly remembered, "Oh, right. There is something I must report to Lord Roswaal..."
"What is it?"
"It's about Rem."
"There's no punishment in store for her, you know? Of course, a small scolding, perhaps, but I have no intention of going beyond that."
Roswaal cut in, preempting the conversation. But Ram gave a small "No" and, seeming to deliberate on how best to put it, bit her lip before continuing, "Rem has taken a liking to Barusu."
"Hmm?"
"Something about Barusu seems to have touched one of Rem's weak spots."
She was speaking about her twin sister.
As for what kind of psychological state her sister was in, Ram as the elder understood all too well. The reverse — for the less thoughtful younger sister to read the elder's mind — was something she could absolutely never do.
Roswaal initially showed a hint of bewilderment, but as Ram's explanation progressed, his expression gradually shifted to one of understanding. With a thoughtful "Hmmmmm" he murmured, "Rem, you say. Well, I suppose it's not all that surprising. Unlike you, Ram, she doesn't serve me out of a sense of loyalty."
A rather harsh evaluation of his own servant's sister, and yet Ram offered no rebuttal whatsoever — only silence. Which was, in essence, a wordless affirmation.
Unlike Ram, who dedicated herself to Roswaal out of unconditional loyalty, Rem's attachment was driven overwhelmingly by a sense of self-preservation.
To Rem, Roswaal was — above all — "the one who protects Ram, her elder sister." This perspective arose from Rem's dependency, so deeply crystallized that her sister's existence had become the purpose of her own. And so Rem's actions to protect that community tended toward rashness and impulsiveness. If left unwatched, she might not hesitate to deal with anyone she perceived as a threat however she saw fit.
In that sense, Ram's honest assessment was that Subaru — having built trust before being attacked — had quite literally saved his own life.
Of course, even while making such an evaluation, Rem was still the most precious sister in the entire world to Ram, and her priority ranked even higher than Ram herself.
— However, if asked whether Rem was the absolute number one, she could not honestly say yes right now.
"Regardless of Rem's feelings, Ram will remain within my grasp. If that is so, then inevitably, Rem has no choice but to do the same. See? Everything is just as it has been — nothing has changed."
"Yes. One could say that the result of Rem gaining something precious to her is simply that the possibility of her acting rashly has expanded."
"I'll have to put her in her place in advance. This is an important job tomorrow, after all."
As he spoke in a half-joking manner, the light faded from Roswaal's palm.
The treatment was complete. Feeling the vitality that now filled her, Ram reluctantly slipped from Roswaal's knee to the floor.
Turning, she found Roswaal already rising from his chair to his full height before her, "In any case, things are about to get busy once more. It will be hard going, but I'm counting on both Ram and Rem."
"As you command. This body has belonged to Lord Roswaal ever since that night of fire."
Pinching the hem of her skirt, she sank into a small curtsy on the spot.
Accepting her loyalty, Roswaal clasped his hands behind his back and walked to the window. With Ram beside him, he drew the curtain open.
Gazing up at the sky — at the full, swollen moon floating there — Roswaal narrowed his mismatched eyes slightly and, "This Royal Selection — I must win it, no matter what. For the sake of my objective."
He murmured, and his outstretched arm drew Ram's shoulder close.
Feeling once more the warmth of his tall frame so near, Ram quietly closed her eyes and lowered her gaze.
Listening to the voice of the man beside her, her master, the one to whom she entrusted her soul, "— For the day I slay the Dragon."
— The night quietly deepened.
As if washing away the turbulent days and cleansing everything clean, to welcome a brand new world.