A silence so awkward it seemed to erase sound from the world itself, making even the passage of time feel hazy.
But time had not, in fact, stopped—reality insisted on that much. Subaru's heart still shamelessly pumped blood, and the complexion of
It would have been far simpler if shame alone could kill him, but for Subaru—the man who had survived his days in this otherworld through sheer self-preservation—death by mortification or frustration was a distant prospect.
All he could do was endure the excruciating silence, waiting for a reaction while keeping that sheepish grin plastered on his face.
This was a showdown—a showdown through and through.
Through his days in this otherworld, he had encountered these make-or-break moments several times. The Loot House had been one such moment, the Mabeast forest another—and now, here in the Throne Room, his spectacular failure before Emilia was yet another.
Subaru could not move. He had steeled himself, resolving that he would not budge an inch without Emilia's reaction.
Across from him, Emilia's lips trembled as though groping for words, her violet eyes wandering as she struggled to collect her thoughts.
Then her lips pressed together, and as though she had reached some sort of conclusion, her deep violet eyes locked squarely onto Subaru's black ones. Feeling as though he might be drawn into that gaze, Subaru braced himself to accept whatever her first words might be— "You've been staring intently at my attendant—got something to say, mongrel?"
"Oof."
"Huh?"
Before Subaru could hear Emilia's response, an impact struck from behind.
A terrifyingly soft sensation pressed against his back, and arms that snaked around him locked onto his chest and neck in a sultry embrace.
The orange-haired girl who had stretched up on her toes behind him—her chin now rested on Subaru's shoulder, placing her face right next to his as he faced Emilia.
Naturally, Subaru's mind put two and two together regarding what that sensation against his back was, and his ears flushed crimson—but he immediately shook off that realization and twisted his body.
"What do you mean attendant? Emilia-tan's going to get the wrong idea—"
"Oh my, so you're not my attendant after all? Then what, pray tell, is your status that allows you to stride so brazenly through the Royal Castle?"
"Guuh..."
His instinctive retort was cut short by a cruel smile.
As things stood, the overwhelming disadvantage was undeniably Subaru's. Her goodwill was the only thing keeping him safe—that was an irrefutable fact.
Given the capricious nature of this girl, if Subaru chose to act or speak against her wishes here and now, he would be reported immediately and thrown in prison. In the worst case, she might have him dealt with on the spot.
But then again, acting chummy with another girl in front of Emilia was absolutely out of the question. It wasn't about what Emilia would think—it was a matter of Subaru's own pride as a man.
Thus Subaru found himself cornered. Unless he was a colossal fool, the smart move here would be to defer to the girl's judgment.
But as with his manner of entry, Natsuki Subaru was indeed a colossal fool.
"I'm not about to bow my head to someone else in front of Emilia-tan."
"...Oh? Interesting. Then what do you call yourself?"
The girl's expression, which had been set to tease him, shifted entirely, and she pressed the question in a tone that carried genuine coldness.
His answer here would directly determine the value of his neck. Subaru couldn't see Emilia's expression behind him, but Al, standing behind the girl, shook his helmet-covered head from side to side, desperately signaling, "She's in no mood for jokes right now!"
It felt terrible to disregard that goodwill, but Subaru quietly drew a breath and made his stance clear.
"I'm here in this castle—"
"Allow me to apologize on behalf of Priscilla-sama. This time, a servant of our household has caused terrible trouble. To think he would wander lost inside the castle—it is truly regrettable. Please accept our sincerest apologies."
The man who cut off Subaru's particularly pointless act of defiance was a familiar, refined voice.
Standing to Subaru's right—where he had been brimming with enthusiasm—was a figure with long indigo hair. Dressed in the formal attire befitting a court magician, with that same unchanging, beaming grin plastered across his face: Roswaal.
With a theatrically obsequious gesture, he indicated Subaru.
"This debt will be repaid in time. Once again, I am deeply sorry that someone from our household caused such a disturbance."
"So the chief con man himself has shown up. Well, fine then. Thanks to that clown and the mongrel, it was rather entertaining. —And besides, it was at a retainer's request."
At Roswaal's insolently courteous behavior, the girl nodded with generous magnanimity. Behind her, Al expressed his relief through a subtle shift of his body.
He had been extremely anxious about the fact that his fellow countryman, found after eighteen years, had nearly gotten himself killed already.
"Give me a break, Princess. My life candle was melting like summer ice cream, I swear..."
"Your metaphors rarely land. In any case, you should all be grateful for my generous nature. Show respect, show respect."
"Yes, yes, amazing, amazing, very impressive."
With one arm, he absentmindedly ruffled the girl's head, shaking it back and forth in a display of rough affection. It looked like the kind of exchange that would make you want to intervene, but despite being handled so carelessly, the girl's mood didn't seem to sour. It genuinely appeared to fall under the category of affectionate treatment.
In any case— "That was a literal near-death experience. Thanks for the save, Roswaal."
"Well, I suppose I do bear some responsibility in the matter. Still, though..."
Roswaal looked down at Subaru, who was sighing in relief, with a gaze tinged with emotion—only his yellow eyes visible. Feeling uncomfortable under that stare, Subaru asked, "What?"
"I didn't actually think you'd charge into the castle for real. How far will you go to defy my expectations... No, that's probably beside the point."
Muttering to himself, Roswaal gave a nod that seemed to satisfy only himself.
Subaru was about to press further on that cryptic attitude, but before he could, he noticed someone at the edge of his vision who deserved an explanation first.
"Ah, sorry for bailing on you. There are a million things I want to say, but..."
"Why did you..."
"Hm?"
As Subaru sorted through his excuses, trying to decide which to lead with, Emilia produced a murmur so faint it seemed to vanish inside her own mouth.
When Subaru asked her to repeat himself, she shook her head once, then looked him straight in the eye again.
"Not how... but why. Why are you here, Subaru?"
"If I try to explain that, it turns out the reason is deep yet shallow, heavy yet fluffy, or... it might not be any of those things."
"Don't joke around. Subaru, I told you, remember? Don't you remember?"
Her repeated, probing question made Subaru's throat tighten with a small click.
What Emilia was referring to was, of course, the promise they had made at the inn. He had said he would wait, and then mere minutes later had broken that promise and shown up anyway. The weakness of his resolve to keep his word was almost beyond commentary.
The guilt over breaking that promise was inescapable. But on the other hand, the fact that he had rushed here out of concern for Emilia's safety was no lie either.
How to blend those two elements together, leaning heavily toward his own side? Subaru's mind raced as he scrambled for an answer.
And then— "—Everyone, you have all gathered. At this time, the members of the Council of Wise Men will enter."
As if to cut short the conversation between Subaru and Emilia, the doors of the Throne Room swung open.
Subaru turned at the sound. The first to enter through the grand doors at the front was the knight who had been speaking with that imperious girl before the ceremony—Marcos, was it?
Beneath a helmet that had been fitted with a rugged-looking faceplate, he advanced with commanding bearing. He was the very image of a storybook knight, so much so that even Subaru felt compelled to straighten his spine under the pressure.
Following behind him was a group of elderly men.
All were dressed in attire befitting their station and the occasion, and from their bearing and manner, it was clear they held considerable rank. Deep lines of long, weighty experience were etched into every face, and an air of authority radiated from each of them.
Most striking among the group was a white-haired old man walking at its center.
His back wasn't bent, but his height was a head shorter than Subaru's. His snow-white hair was grown long, and a beard of equal length had been meticulously groomed to match. Combined with his short stature, the beard was almost comically long, threatening to drag on the ground—but that impression was dispelled entirely by the sharpness of his gaze, which carried the cutting edge of a blade.
"That man is the representative of the Council of Wise Men—in other words, the most influential person in the
Roswaal provided the quiet commentary as Subaru stood there, momentarily speechless.
That explained it, Subaru thought. The man who exuded "I am no ordinary person" at first glance turned out to be, in reality, no ordinary person at all.
The representative of the kingless Lugnica—and Subaru had heard the name Council of Wise Men before.
"If I remember right, they're the body that runs things in place of the king?"
"Nominally, they're supposed to be advisors, but in practice the running of the kingdom depends entirely on the Council of Wise Men... Though, to be fair, it was pretty much the same even when the royal family was alive."
Roswaal shrugged in response. In short, since the previous king's era—when the monarch lacked the ability to govern—the Council of Wise Men had effectively been entrusted with most of the kingdom's operations.
That might well be true, but casually dropping it to an outsider like Subaru, let alone doing so right here in the Throne Room, was nothing short of brazen.
Subaru had known this much already, but it seemed his employer had a rather flexible sense of loyalty toward the kingdom. For someone involved at the core of national governance, it was a troubling trait.
"If you start going down that road, we'll end up talking about my position, and that's a whole other problem. Are you sure about this? I can only play outfield, you know!"
"If you could play any position, we wouldn't have ended up in that situation earlier, I'd think. Anyway, we're heading over there, bro."
Al, who had been listening keenly, nudged Subaru and gestured in the direction he should go. Looking that way, Subaru saw knights lining up along the wall of the Throne Room. Among them, standing apart from the uniformed knights in their matching armor, were three individuals who cut a distinctly different figure.
"Oh, those three over there..."
Naturally, his eyes were drawn to those three standout figures, and to his surprise, all of them were faces he had seen before.
Al tapped Subaru's shoulder and guided him toward them.
Subaru glanced at Roswaal beside him as if asking for permission.
"So, uh, should I head over there?"
"The proper thing would have been to quietly send you out of here at this point... but it should be entertaining, so follow the fellow in the helmet."
"Hey, Roswaal—"
Emilia, whose demeanor hadn't changed from when they were at the manor, confronted Roswaal with the same irritation she'd always shown him. She bristled at his carefree tone and moved to press him, but— "Unfortunately, now is not the time to heed Emilia-sama's entirely valid concerns. If I'm being honest about the situation, Subaru-kun would be saying goodbye here... and in the permanent sense, no less."
"But if you leave him here together with them, Subaru will—"
"Debating that will have to wait. Emilia-sama, the other candidates have all gathered. Over there, if you would."
Where Roswaal's arm pointed, at the far end of the Throne Room, those three distinctive figures had assembled.
The throne itself sat empty, its surrounding seats filled by the elderly members of the Council of Wise Men. On the wall, the great painted wings of a dragon loomed over them—they looked like loyal retainers bearing the dragon upon which a king rode.
And standing in a neat row before those elders were not figures defined by the cunning intimidation of age, but beings who radiated a brilliance that came naturally, born to shine before others.
Led by the orange-haired girl, three young women stood there in regal composure.
In the center stood a girl in a sun-colored dress, one hand on her hip, her chest puffed out with imperious pride. She had been called Priscilla before entering the room. Even under the manifold gazes of those who sat at the pinnacle of the kingdom's power, her perfectly upright arrogance did not waver in the slightest.
To her right stood a woman with long, deep green hair. The color was so dark it was nearly black, but on closer inspection, it shone with a lustrous green sheen. Tall for a woman, her eye level was only slightly below Subaru's, yet the height of her hips differed considerably.
Her hair was gathered into a single tail that reached her waist, and her curvaceous figure was wrapped in a dark navy uniform. The outfit resembled the clothing of guards seen in the
On Priscilla's left stood a woman who, in stark contrast to the serious aura of the others, gave off a warm and cheerful impression with her purple hair.
Hers, too, reached her waist, but its texture—whether naturally or by design—had a gentle wave, and the fine strands gave it the soft appearance of cotton candy. Slightly smaller than the other two and with a less pronounced figure, she was dressed in a white gown.
But what truly caught Subaru's eye among her attire was the fluffy white shawl draped around her shoulders, made from some kind of animal fur. In a single glance, it struck at the very heart of Subaru's identity as a connoisseur of all things soft and cuddly, and he could not help but drool at its magnificence.
While Subaru was harboring these entirely off-topic thoughts, Emilia bit her lip in frustration and— "I'm going to have a proper talk with you later, okay?"
—she declared, as if making sure to impress this upon Subaru, before running off to join the three young women.
When Emilia, with her silver hair dancing, took her place beside them, Subaru thought—admittedly biased—that while she might be a small step behind in terms of attire, her inherent loveliness put her a full head above the rest.
In any case— "So, bottom line: those are the participants in the Royal Selection—the future Royal candidates."
From the way Emilia joined them and their earlier exchange, Subaru concluded that this was the situation. Honestly, he was surprised that all the Royal candidates turned out to be women, but if there had been a man among them, things would probably have settled on him without much fuss—so in a sense, perhaps he should have anticipated Emilia being a candidate from the start.
Sighing inwardly at the gravity of it all, Subaru noticed the other people around him beginning to move and hurried to join them. Roswaal merged with a group of refined-looking men who appeared to be civil officials—a stark contrast to the line of knights. Meanwhile, Subaru followed Al, who strode forward without a shred of hesitation, to a position slightly closer to the throne than the armored knights. And there— "—So you did come, Subaru."
A red-haired young man raised one hand and greeted Subaru's arrival with a smile.
Two weeks had passed, yet the handsome man's fresh, dazzling appearance showed not a single trace of fading—Reinhard. His fiery red hair swayed as he stood in knight's uniform today, a contrast to the casual attire Subaru had seen in the lower quarters. What hadn't changed was his godlike appearance and the sword at his hip—the one bearing a dragon's claw mark.
"When I heard Emilia-sama would be attending, I thought you would come first."
"It's been a while, and also—where does that insanely high opinion of me you keep spouting come from? The me you knew before should have zero good impressions, what with the squeaky voice calls for help and the pathetic seppuku attempt."
"Saving Emilia-sama from a blade aside, you've continued to make the best choices in every situation. I do think modesty has its virtues, but you take it too far."
When someone said that to you with a perfectly sincere expression, there was nothing you could say in return.
That was precisely the problem with true handsome men. Those who enjoyed privileges for their looks rarely encountered the kind of hardships that warped one's personality, so they tended to end up as genuinely good people. The theory was "no truly handsome man is a villain for no reason."
A good-looking man with a twisted personality was, statistically speaking, an extreme rarity among the handsome.
And Reinhard's upbringing was so obviously impeccable that he was the elite among the elite—the handsomest of handsome men.
"If I bow down and pray, will it do anything? Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu..."
"I've never heard that chant, and it won't work on me regardless. I was born with this constitution, I'm afraid."
"No, no, this is purely a matter for the prayer department, so don't worry about it. Oh, right, right. Before that, there was something I needed to say."
Straightening up, Subaru looked Reinhard in his blue eyes. Then, slowly, he bowed his head.
"Thanks for everything the other day. Seriously. I didn't have time to thank you properly, and I couldn't even figure out how to get in touch afterward. I wish I could have talked to you sooner."
"I understand your circumstances, Subaru. It couldn't be helped. You were gravely wounded with honor, and I've been somewhat busy myself these past few days."
Reinhard gave a small shrug, but at Subaru's words of gratitude, he couldn't help the pleased smile that spread across his face. Even such a small gesture seemed painterly—truly handsome men were beyond even the reach of envy.
And as the two of them rekindled their acquaintance— "Reinhard and Subaru-kun, you two know each other? How nice~"
Saying so in a feather-light voice, a person with natural cat ears cut into the conversation.
Today she wore a black-based uniform matching Reinhard's—the one adorned with a dragon motif—with a white ribbon decorating her ash-blonde hair, the same as when Subaru had last seen her.
She was the one who had visited
She raised her hand to her forehead in a salute-like gesture, gave a wink, and said— "It's only been two days, but how've you been? Your Feli's been doing great~"
"Nobody asked, and also, thanks for the other day. It's an honor to see you again."
"Hmm, that second half came out a bit stiff, nya? Relax your shoulders more, like this~"
She casually touched Subaru's shoulder, trying to ease his tension. Reinhard watched their exchange with a slightly surprised expression.
"Subaru, are you and Felis acquainted?"
"She came to Roswaal's place—where I've been staying—to confirm today's attendance. I figured she was just some underling attendant, but..."
Seeing her in the same uniform as Reinhard, it was clear she too held a position worthy of standing alongside the Sword Saint. In fact, Subaru had already heard at the manor that she was "the finest water mage in the entire Royal Capital, bar none."
With all those factors combined, he could sense she was someone of considerable standing.
"I see. Felis was the one who went to Emilia-sama's place. If my schedule had permitted, I would have loved to go myself."
"But sending the Sword Saint away from the Royal Capital? Captain Marcos would never allow that. No need to add to the Captain's worries. He already looks ten years older than his age despite being barely thirty... and soon it won't just be his face but his head too, I fear."
At Felis's joking words, Reinhard gave a slight, wry smile. The subject matter being what it was, he couldn't exactly laugh openly. Subaru, too, recalled Marcos's craggy face and inwardly thought the man had more than enough gravitas for someone not yet past thirty.
And then, still further— "Might I take the time to introduce myself as well?"
The last person with a distinctly different aura from the knights spoke up.
Subaru recognized this person too. But if he was being honest, the impression wasn't exactly favorable. After all— "This is the guy who kissed Emilia-tan's hand all smugly at the gate."
With his annoyingly refined air, this smooth-talker had kissed the back of Emilia's hand in an irritating display of one-upmanship. Internally calling him "pretty-boy," Subaru put on a smile.
"Well, I'm late with the introductions. Name's Natsuki Subaru—cheap bastard extraordinaire. Please, tuck that away in whatever corner of your mind you can spare, heh heh."
"You've gotten awfully humble all of a sudden, Subaru."
Reinhard gently chided Subaru, then turned to the pretty-boy.
"Please don't take it the wrong way, Julius. Subaru has a tendency to act in ways that invite others to underestimate him—it's a form of testing people."
"Oh come on, stop assigning me that kind of cunning personality. I don't have any hidden agenda—I just do my air reading and this is how it comes out."
Reinhard's opinion of Subaru was rather inflated. Presumably, Subaru's actions on their first day had earned tremendous credit in his estimation. Rather than being flattered, Subaru was more unused to it and suspected there must be some catch.
Still— "And so it goes. Julius, be elegant about it."
There was not a shred of artifice in Reinhard's attitude. It was a profile constructed entirely of goodwill, and Subaru realized further comment would be pointless.
"That's my specialty, Reinhard. Julius Euclius of the Royal Knights, at your service. I look forward to our acquaintance. And you as well, sir knight."
At the red-haired young man's cue, the corner of his mouth curling, the pretty-boy—Julius—introduced himself to Subaru. His attention then turned to Al, who stood beside Subaru.
Called "sir knight," Al shifted his neck uncomfortably.
"Ah, don't go calling me something that formal, I ain't no knight. I'm just some run-of-the-mill unemployed guy, unlike you lot with your straight-and-narrow code."
His response came in a low, flat tone. Unlike the way he acted around Subaru, there was a clear intent to keep people at arm's length.
For Subaru, who had gotten the impression that Julius was quite familiar with Al, this attitude was surprising. Unfortunately, there was no time to dwell on it.
Just as the exchange of names was wrapping up, the one called the captain—Marcos—raised his voice almost simultaneously.
"—Distinguished members of the Council of Wise Men. Honored candidates, you have all assembled. Forgive the presumption, but as Captain of the Royal Knights, I will be overseeing the proceedings."
"Very well... please proceed."
Still seated with hands clasped, the Council of Wise Men's representative, Miklotov, gave a slight nod with his chin dipped. At the elder's response, Marcos bowed respectfully, then furrowed the brows of his craggy face.
"This assembly has been convened to deliver a critical announcement regarding the selection of the next sovereign—the Royal Selection. The fact that you have made the journey to the Royal Castle, and that the members of the Council of Wise Men have gathered, is for this purpose."
His booming voice, though not especially loud, reached every ear in the Throne Room with perfect clarity. It was a quality one was born with—the gift of making others listen—and even Subaru found himself unable to muster a wisecrack, instead listening intently.
"The root cause lies approximately six months ago—in the successive deaths of the king and the members of the royal family. The absence of a monarch represents the gravest crisis for the kingdom, and particularly for the Kingdom of Lugunica, it bears directly upon the 'Covenant.'"
The Covenant—that would be some manner of pact between the kingdom and the Dragon. Subaru had heard it mentioned at the manor practically every day since arriving, enough to be sick of it. Still, his knowledge of the matter was surface-level at best, and the same was true of the Royal Selection itself. This lecture was, if nothing else, appreciated.
"Hmm. The maintenance of the Covenant is of paramount importance to the kingdom's survival. It was therefore a devastating blow that the royal family was struck down by illness all at once. We must urgently identify a new 'Priestess' capable of communicating with the Dragon."
"In fulfillment of that duty, we of the Royal Knights, acting on the orders of the Council of Wise Men, have been tasked with finding the priestesses chosen by the gleam of the Dragon Gem."
Marcos reached into his breast and produced, resting in his palm, the small emblem Subaru had seen several times before—a jewel-encrusted badge denoting qualification as a Royal Selection participant.
Walking forward, Marcos approached the line of assembled candidates and bowed to them.
"Ladies, present your Dragon Gems—"
In response to his call, each girl raised her own emblem before her.
Every gem blazed with brilliant radiance in their hands, scattering light of different colors across the Throne Room.
A murmur of awe rippled through the watching knights, and the elderly members of the Council of Wise Men allowed expressions of relief and quiet joy to settle onto their deeply lined faces.
"In this manner, each candidate has demonstrated her qualifications as a Dragon Priestess. Having witnessed this, we shall now proceed according to the Dragon History Stone—"
"Oh, excuse me?"
Marcos had been conducting the proceedings with solemn gravity, and was about to continue in that same measured tone, when a pleasant voice called out to halt him.
It was the girl whose Dragon Gem flickered with blue light—the one with purple hair and a white dress.
Still holding her Dragon Gem aloft, she tilted her head with a coy smile.
"I understand you want to press ahead with this, Captain, but we're busy too, you know. In
Despite her gentle tone and soft features, her demands were anything but subtle. She tucked her Dragon Gem away, then clapped her hands together.
"Rather than repeating what everyone already knows, what we'd really like to hear is the heart of why we've been gathered—isn't that the honest truth?"
She spun her words with that distinctive intonation and capped her demand with a smile.
Marcos seemed slightly thrown by her attitude, but the greater shock was felt by Subaru.
In this tension-laden scene, even the usual Subaru had been careful to keep his mouth zipped, mindful of reading the room.
"Whoa whoa, is that supposed to be Kansai dialect? No way."
"Bro, you too? That's apparently how they talk over in Kararagi to the west. I've never seen it myself, but... maybe the otherworld translation system selects languages that way?"
Subaru murmured under his breath, and Al, beside him, voiced the same impression in an equally hushed tone.
After eighteen years since being summoned, the veteran Al had long since overcome the shock of encountering such things, so he was less rattled than Subaru by her speech.
Meanwhile, a different kind of surprise rippled through the Throne Room—a faint murmur spreading across the hall. What stopped it was another woman's sharp, clear voice.
"That's a fair point."
"Crusch-sama."
A woman with green hair stood with arms crossed, chin dipped in agreement. At her response, Marcos called her name, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.
"The head of the Karsten family saying such a thing..."
"I understand the impulse to maintain formality, but if the substance of this gathering is neglected as a result, we've put the cart before the horse. We should address the reason we've been brought here as quickly as possible. Though—"
The woman closed one eye, taking in the members of the Council of Wise Men behind Marcos as she spoke.
"I can more or less guess what it is."
"Oh my, how astute. As expected of the head of the Karsten family—you already understood the meaning of this summons?"
At Miklotov's admiring words, the woman raised her noble features and addressed the true purpose of the gathering in the Throne Room.
"Yes. —It's a drinking party, isn't it? Though we are to compete against one another, we still know far too little about each other. Sit around a table, share drinks, speak frankly—naturally, one would come to understand each other's character..."
"No, that's not it at all."
The woman had been setting up what sounded like a grand banquet with a solemn air, and the old man couldn't help but interject. She looked surprised, then slowly turned toward Subaru and the others.
"Felis. That's not what I was told."
"No way~ Oh come on. Feli just said 'a whole bunch of food and alcohol is being brought into the castle, so maybe they're planning a banquet~' That's all~"
"Oh? A misjudgment on my part, then. I withdraw it."
She carried herself with apparent magnanimity, but the content of the exchange was clearly off.
Turning back to face the front, and reconsidering what had just transpired, the woman let out a soft sigh.
"In that case, please disregard what I said earlier. It was embarrassing."
"Oh no, Crusch-sama is just too manly~"
Felis clutched her cheeks and writhed. Face flushed, hips swaying, she seemed largely unconcerned about having been the source of the misinformation. Or, judging from the scene, it might have been deliberate.
Finding the line between acceptable mischief and going too far was tricky. Subaru kept his composure even as the atmosphere of the hall pressed in. His musings were interrupted by another clap of hands— "Even if Crusch backs down, my opinion hasn't changed. There's no point going over the formalities of the Royal Selection when everyone already knows how it works. Right?"
Leaning forward, the girl sought agreement from the three women standing beside her.
Crusch nodded in response, Priscilla let out a small, bored sniff, and Emilia's tense lips trembled.
"Well, I think we should hear them out properly..."
"Sorry, but your opinion doesn't interest me."
But the only one who had responded—Emilia—received a cutting dismissal.
The blunt rejection drew a look of resignation to Emilia's face. Subaru watched her lower her gaze, pushed aside by the others, and sparks flew in his mind.
"Hey, what's with that attitude—'Yaaay! I don't know anything about the Royal Selection, so I just wanted to hear what comes next!!'"
Subaru lunged forward, voice rising in fury, but a powerful arm cut in to stop him. The insults about to leave his mouth were overwritten by Al's voice, which boomed across the hall.
Al had cut off Subaru's impetuous outburst. Bathed in the gazes of the entire room, he fidgeted with the metal fitting on his jet-black helmet, producing a rhythmic clinking.
"Don't stare at me like that, it's embarrassing. I know I don't belong here, so if you treat me too much like an outsider, I'll cry and scream and cause a big scene—a grown man, no less."
As if mocking Subaru's earlier thoughts about probing the boundaries of acceptable mischief, Al tap-danced through the minefield with effortless casualness.
Rather than mere boldness, it was as though he'd dropped his fundamental consideration for others—and the display left even Reinhard and the rest visibly taken aback.
"Priscilla-sama. I understand he is your knight, but... could you explain?"
"Would that not be a waste of breath, when you long-winded ones will prattle on regardless? I merely saved myself the trouble. Repeated words are no different from sleep-talking. And sleep-talking should not be indulged even in sleep."
While only Marcos managed to maintain his composure, Priscilla taunted in her imperious tone.
All of them were, without exception, broken in some fundamental way—which made Emilia's relative normalcy all the more conspicuous. And it was painfully clear from the preceding exchange that she was not being treated with due respect.
In any case— "You owe me one. No wait, that's the second one?"
Al held up two fingers and tilted his head toward Subaru, who silently thanked him.
If Subaru had rushed forward and raised his voice in fury, he was not confident that he could have handled the situation as smoothly as Al had.
Al had stepped forward and taken the brunt of the criticism in Subaru's place.
Despite being in much the same position as Subaru, the fact that Al could behave with such confidence must have been because he had spent eighteen years firmly building his own foundation. In this otherworld, where Subaru had yet to find anything solid, their mindsets were fundamentally different.
"Oh boy, another princess tantrum. Give it a rest already."
"I suffer fools by divine will. Rejoice and dance in my palm. Continue, Marcos. Teach my knight how I shall become the queen."
"If you can say 'dumping it on someone else' with that much conviction, I guess that's something. I'm done too."
Shrugging, the girl gave up on Priscilla's attitude.
Once those two had aligned their wills, Marcos cleared his throat softly and checked with Emilia and Crusch as well. Seeing them both nod, he continued— "Though we've strayed slightly, let us return to the matter at hand. —The reason all of you, bearing the qualifications of Dragon Priestesses, have been gathered here is due to a new prophecy inscribed upon the Dragon History Stone."
Yet another unknown term, thought Subaru, a question mark forming in his mind.
Judging by the context, it was probably some manner of prophetic tablet, but the specifics were unclear.
"The prophecy carved into the stone tablet read as follows: 'When the Covenant of Lugnica is broken, a new bearer of the Dragon shall maintain the Covenant and guide the nation.'"
"Hmm. What the stone tablet reveals is nothing less than divine will. The Dragon History Stone, having accumulated as much history as the kingdom since its founding, inscribes new words in response to events that determine the kingdom's fate. Given that its contents have shaped the course of history ever since, it is our duty to heed it."
At Miklotov's solemn recitation, the other elderly members of the Council of Wise Men nodded gravely.
In essence, they were handing all future policy over to a prophetic tablet—a remarkably bold interpretation. But in a world where magic existed, the weight behind such a prophecy was probably immense, leaving no room for objection.
In any case, it seemed that Emilia and the others had been gathered as candidates for the throne—or more precisely, as priestesses chosen to communicate with the Dragon—guided by this prophecy.
And as Subaru reached that conclusion, a question suddenly surfaced in his mind.
It came down to this— "If the discussion is about the Dragon and the Covenant and all that, do you really need someone who's going to be queen involved? Wouldn't it be enough to have a clan or something that serves as Dragon Priestesses?"
He murmured the question in a low voice—not to Al, but to Reinhard on his other side. Reinhard glanced down at Subaru, a wry smile at the corner of his mouth.
"What Subaru says makes perfect sense. I agree. But unfortunately, it doesn't work that way."
"Why the heck not?"
"Because the Covenant of the kingdom's prosperity was made between the Dragon and the king. The Dragon didn't enter into a Covenant with just anyone capable of communicating—it was because that person was the king who would bear the kingdom that the Covenant came to be."
A passage from a picture book—the "Story of the Dragon"—dug its way out of Subaru's memory.
Just as Reinhard explained, it was a tale of king and Dragon. The weight of that lineage, passed down through the ages. The Council of Wise Men, and the Royal Knights who had gathered Emilia and the others—presumably, they were trying to honor that legacy as closely as possible. But— "Then wouldn't making a priestess-cum-queen on short notice be the quickest way to set the Dragon off? It's not like this is some riddle contest from a kids' show—you can't just say, 'The royals are all gone, so we turned a priestess into the queen!'"
"I hear there was a lot of heated debate about exactly that point. But the kingdom's own prophetic tablet, the Dragon History Stone, indicated through divine will that this precarious approach was the correct one. And the Council of Wise Men accepted that and issued their orders to us. I'd like to believe things won't turn out badly."
The explanation—refreshingly sincere rather than prayerful—was enough for Subaru to nod in acceptance.
There was no certainty, but there was no other option either. If that was the case, then doing one's utmost was the only path. That was the current state of the Kingdom of Lugnica.
What judgment the Dragon itself would pass on the kingdom's people—that, no one could say for now. Or perhaps only the owner of that prophetic tablet, the celestial will that had so imperiously inscribed those words, knew the answer.
"Well, I get the situation. So the plan is to pick a queen from the four of them? Why not make all four of them rulers and rank them or something?"
"That option is also carved into the Dragon History Stone... and the Captain is about to read it now."
Subaru's suggestion, offered as if it were a stroke of genius, was dismissed with a single shake of the head. The true meaning was about to be revealed, and Reinhard's blue gaze turned back to the center of the hall.
The stoic knight, commanding the attention of the room, turned to face the four candidates.
"And the prophecy continues: 'From the five who may become the new guides of the nation, choose one priestess and stand before the Covenant with the Dragon.'"
Marcos recited the words in his booming voice. Subaru could only nod in understanding—it was clear enough. If the prophetic tablet said to choose one, then there was no other course of action.
And yet, one part snagged in his mind.
"Five...?"
"Yes, five."
Reinhard nodded in confirmation of Subaru's doubt.
He glanced sideways at Subaru, whose face was now crammed with suspicion.
"Meaning—with only four candidates in the current situation—the Royal Selection hadn't truly even begun. For that, you'll have to blame the Royal Knights for failing to find the fifth candidate."
"The population's something like fifty million, right? Finding five people out of that many sounds pretty tough to me. And if they managed it in six months, I'd say they were way too fast—that's my take."
In reality, unless you were in a place like Japan—with established communication infrastructure and the ability to conduct nationwide surveys all at once—such a task would be extraordinarily difficult. Even in Japan, there would undoubtedly be exceptions who could slip through such conditions.
He didn't know how many the Royal Knights numbered or how capable they were, but finding four candidates in such a short time was already a remarkable achievement.
"Well, if it turns out there are tons of latent priestesses who can make the Dragon Gem shine, I'll be happy to blame you. But this is the man who..."
"I can't say we examined every one of the fifty million citizens, but we did investigate more than eighty percent before arriving at these four. I would appreciate it if you gave the Knights their due."
Reinhard spoke with a quiet pride that suggested he considered their efforts fully justified. There was not a shred of embarrassment in his manner. If anything, it was the overreaching Subaru who ended up feeling awkward.
But the situation flowed on, indifferent to Subaru's feelings.
"With the fifth missing, we had to stand by, fully aware of our competitors, yet unable to do anything. How frustrating."
"Yes, yes. I've been called away from business negotiations over and over. The only benefit has been the connection with the Euclius House, and even that's starting to wear thin."
"Anastasia-sama. Honesty is your charming virtue, but perhaps in this setting you could restrain it somewhat..."
At Crusch's words, the purple-haired girl—Anastasia—turned to Julius, who offered his admonition with a flourish. She regarded him.
"What? It'd go over better if I held back?"
"No. It would be more elegant."
"Even your standards, Julius, are beyond me."
Despite the unconvincing nature of his advice, Anastasia let out a sigh as if deflated. Then she turned back to Marcos.
"Anyway, everything you've said so far is common knowledge. Is the princess satisfied now?"
"How about it? Al, did you get all that?"
"Yeah yeah, got it. Thanks for going through all that, and same to you, Kansai-girl."
Al waved his single arm, and Priscilla replied to Anastasia with a "So it seems." Anastasia chose to overlook the master-servant pair's casualness. Then, looking up at the Council of Wise Men— "If you have something to say, make it quick. I'm not free, you know—I've got plenty to do after this. You old men holding the kingdom's purse strings understand, right?"
Her manner of speaking, while seemingly respectful in its phrasing, could only come across as mocking given that she clearly knew she was addressing her superiors. Subaru tensed, worried the situation might erupt—but Anastasia, too, was clearly experienced enough to read the room, gauging the line with precision.
None of the Council of Wise Men showed any inclination to censure her for the disrespectful remark. If anything, Miklotov seemed to be enjoying himself.
"I apologize for keeping the busy Anastasia-sama, but if you could indulge this old man's ramblings a while longer, I would be most grateful. After all... today will be a day etched into the annals of the kingdom's history."
At the end of his seemingly casual words, Miklotov's voice suddenly dropped.
And with that, the tension that had dissipated from the hall rushed back—so thick that no one could remain unmoved.
Everyone probed the meaning behind Miklotov's words, no one daring to speak first. It was Priscilla, unafraid to hold her ground, who broke the silence.
"You said history would move. So that is what you mean, isn't it?"
At Priscilla's quiet question, Miklotov gave a slight nod from the podium. He then directed his heavy brow toward Marcos, signaling with a glance.
Marcos placed a hand over his heart, bowed, and— "—Knight
"Sir!"
Marcos's voice suddenly rang out across the hall.
Subaru flinched at the unexpected shout, and beside him, Reinhard responded as though he had been waiting for the call. Then, with fluid grace, he moved to the center, bowed to the four candidates, and stepped forward to face Captain Marcos.
"Reinhard—deliver your report."
"Sir."
Reinhard stepped aside, and Marcos vacated the center of the podium. Reinhard took that space, claiming the full attention of every gaze in the room, and faced the Council of Wise Men with not a trace of strain on his face.
"Honorable members of the Council of Wise Men, this Reinhard van Astrea of the Royal Knights respectfully reports the completion of my mission."
"Very well. Let all hear it."
At Miklotov's instruction, Reinhard bowed once, then turned to face the entire hall, standing tall.
"The Dragon Priestess, the Royal candidate—the fifth and final candidate has been found."
A murmur spread among the ranks of knights, and the candidates' faces shifted in response to their own strong emotions—joy, boredom, bewilderment, and more.
Subaru, too, murmured "So that's how it is" to himself. From everything that had been said, this outcome had been obvious.
What Subaru couldn't understand was Reinhard's position. Why had he been chosen to deliver the report? Or, thinking further, Subaru noticed the common thread connecting everyone in this room.
That thread was— "They're all associates of Royal candidates..."
Al was Priscilla's associate. Felis was Crusch's. Julius was Anastasia's. And if Subaru included himself as Emilia's associate, then Reinhard's position here was equally clear.
"Bring her in."
It was a quiet voice, but it carried effortlessly across the hall's murmur to the grand doors. The guards at the entrance saluted, and then the doors slowly opened.
Through them, accompanied by several women who appeared to be attendants, a single figure was ushered into the Throne Room.
At the sight of that person, Subaru furrowed his brows in confusion.
A dress of pale yellow fabric. White gloves reaching to her elbows, a skirt that swayed with each step, and high-heeled shoes that made walking look awkward as they trod upon the carpet. Her small, delicate frame was so slender it seemed it might break if embraced, and her fine golden hair lent her a fragile air.
But Subaru knew that this girl—whose mid-length golden hair swayed and whose strong-willed red eyes blazed—was the owner of a mischievous pair of fangs, and had nothing to do with such frailty.
Stunned by how different she looked, Subaru stood with his mouth hanging open, struck speechless.
While Subaru was reeling, every other eye in the hall burned the image of the newly arrived girl into memory, and Reinhard's voice rang out in a clear, resonant tone.
"The person I serve as sovereign—her name is
The sound of those words hammered again and again against Subaru's eardrums, still frozen in shock.
—The Royal Selection, which would decide the fate of the Kingdom of Lugnica, was about to begin.