Arc 9, Part 31: "Full Capacity"

—Accompanied by a roar and visual spectacle so intense it felt as if the heavens themselves had split, a colossal mass of rock fell.

Whether it was appropriate to describe it simply as a "mass of rock" was highly debatable. After all, it was a chunk of stone easily no less than a hundred meters in size. Rather than a mere rock mass, it was more fitting to call it a mountain of stone suspended in the sky.

Cracks spiderwebbed across that stony mountain, and the hundred-meter mass shattered into pieces, becoming countless smaller—yet still five to ten meters in size—boulders that rained down upon the earth.

The impact point of these boulders was the cityscape of the Royal Capital; the casualties were estimated, at a minimum, to be between a thousand and ten thousand. To commit such a mass slaughter, the only ones in the modern era who could match that kill rate would be the "Blue Lightning" Cecilus Segmunt, or perhaps the Sin Archbishops of "Greed" and "Sloth."

However—

"If you don't limit the era to the present, there used to be quite a few back in the day."

With a voice thick with exhaustion and tinged with exasperation, Aldebaran watched the scene from atop the city walls.

Plan B—the tactic of dropping the aforementioned mountain of rock—was a despicable ploy used by a cornered Aldebaran to create an opening for his escape. Given the circumstances that forced him to rely on such a tactic, Aldebaran should not have lingered leisurely; he should have turned tail, fled with all his might, ignored the cries of agony, and bolted from the Royal Capital.

Yet, Aldebaran could not do that. —He had the responsibility to see it through to the end.

"—As expected."

Behind his helmet, his narrowed black eyes reflected the sight before him, and Aldebaran let out a raspy murmur of praise.

The sound and spectacle of the mountain’s descent were met by a scream from the world just as flamboyant, as the reality was overwritten. A beautiful tower of ice, stretching up from the ground, caught the countless falling rocks one by one.

Despite its cold, frozen appearance, it was a hand of salvation filled with warm mercy and affection. At the same time, the ice tower, shimmering pale blue in the light, seemed to express the deep sorrow of its caster.

"Geez, isn't thinking like that a bit too poetic for an old man like you?"

Roy, slung over Aldebaran’s shoulder, mocked him as he watched the scene. Although his limbs had been snapped to render him immobile, Roy used his back muscles to skillfully lift his upper body, spectating the cataclysm that had struck the capital over Al's shoulder.

Al felt weary that someone who could do nothing still had such a glib tongue to wag.

"You're the one whose tongue is getting too carried away with my inner monologue. It's getting 'poetic.' I didn't know him well, but that sense of style seems like it would've suited your dead half who played at being a 'Gourmet' better than a 'Bizarre Eater' like you."

"Haha, attacking me with my dead family? How uncouth. Actually, the one who liked to evaluate everything he ate was Ley, not us. It’s strange, isn't it? Whether it's 'I' or 'We,' everything we eat ends up in the same 'Stomach of the Soul' anyway."

"They say 'a thief is bold,' but a gluttonous thief is even worse."

"I hate being treated like a thief. We just want to eat a tiny bit more than a full stomach... we're just adorable epicureans of that level."

He had an answer for everything. The sheer vocabulary and eloquence of the "Bizarre Eater" were, given the nature of the Authority of "Gluttony," among the best not just among Sin Archbishops, but in the entire world.

It was easy to be deceived by his childish appearance and his foul-natured way of speaking, but one must never forget that the being on his shoulder was a monster of collective wisdom that had devoured countless lives of knowledge and experience. That was exactly why Al had given up on verbal persuasion and chosen to force him into submission through violence and cursed seals.

"...Anyway, my business here is done. Let's go."

"I guess there's no need to help the big sister who missed a few rocks anymore. Hey, old man, don't people often tell you you're an eccentric? Or maybe a freak?"

"Thanks for the summary of my reputation over the last two or three days."

Al replied, having lost the will to engage seriously with Roy, who had correctly guessed why Al had lingered without explanation and then added an unnecessary jab at the end.

And so, after confirming the state of the Royal Capital—where the damage had been contained thanks to Emilia, though one section of the noble district had been completely leveled—Aldebaran hurried his pace once more.

Through his battle with Valga Cromwell, Aldebaran had revised his perception, recognizing that even for his own Authority—which he had evaluated as peerless—there were formidable enemies who could hold their own against it.

Even now, his conviction that no one could defeat him remained unshaken. However, he also admonished himself: to make that conviction absolute, he could not simply rest on his laurels and stop thinking.

Therefore, in the operation to infiltrate the capital and jailbreak "Gluttony," he did not choose an easy redo. He treated each of his "lives" with meticulous care, as if squeezing the last bit of toothpaste from a tube. By challenging it with everything he had, he was able to close the count at 6,724.

Whether one considers that number high or low is a matter of perspective, but Aldebaran fundamentally viewed any count as "appropriate."

Whatever the digits of the count, it was the number of attempts necessary to overcome the wall without wasting a single one. On very rare occasions, there were lives spent pointlessly just to let his heart take a breath, but even those mental breathers were necessary attempts.

That was why, regardless of the count, if he obtained the desired result, Aldebaran would insist that those 6,724 times were the "optimal" number of trials.

"—Yo, you shitty helmet bastard."

The pre-arranged rendezvous point—a location some distance from the Royal Capital—was a long-abandoned quarry, a perfect meeting spot for villains wishing to avoid prying eyes.

Waiting for Aldebaran in that quarry, leaning against a crumbling stone wall, was Felt. She greeted him with a harsh address, her red eyes glowing with anger and hostility. She curled her lip, revealing a sharp fang, and stood with her arms crossed in a display of blatant contempt. Her nickname for him had been downgraded from "Helmet Bastard" to "Shitty Helmet Bastard."

Felt jerked her chin toward the distant Royal Capital.

"If Big Sis Emilia hadn't stopped that giant rock, how many people do you think would've died? What happened to your policy of 'no casualties'? You gonna keep bending your rules every time you get discouraged? That's pathetic."

"...You're right. I'm also relieved you're safe, Miss Felt."

"Hah?"

"It's a joke. Or just small talk, or a gag that fell flat."

As Felt’s hostility sharpened at his response, Aldebaran answered feebly. Perhaps taking his attitude as insincerity, Felt looked ready to snap at him, but then Roy, perched on Al's shoulder, spoke up. "Hey, Felt-chan."

"I'd love to say 'keep it up, keep it up,' but if you're gonna nag the old man, we've already finished the prep work on our end. So, why not change the flavor with a different seasoning?"

"Flavor my ass. ...So you're the 'Gluttony' that was locked up. The older brother? The younger? Either way, you've got the same annoying face as your brother."

"Ah, so you know about us? Well, of course you do. I heard from Louis, you know? That Ley got indigestion because of Felt-chan."

"You mean when he was whining about my name? Served him right."

Felt, whose tongue was getting sharper by the second, had apparently encountered "Gluttony"—Ley Batenkaitos—once before in Pristella. Despite her ridiculing his dead brother, Roy merely laughed cheerfully, "Haha," just as he had with Al.

"By the way, even among us, we don't really know which of us was the eldest son. Sometimes we felt like being the eldest, and sometimes we felt like being the second son, so maybe that's why."

"Stop spouting nonsense. The order of siblings isn't decided by 'mood.' Choose whether to give or take before you kick the bucket."

"Hah-ha! Both the old man and Felt-chan think you can say whatever you want to a hated Sin Archbishop, don't you? It's fine, it's fine. It's the 'common consensus,' after all."

"Hey, shitty helmet bastard, I'm not here to have a fun chat with this guy. Shut that jagged mouth of his and answer my questions."

"I agree that he's loud, but wait a bit on the Q&A. Before that..."

Interrupting Felt’s demand, Aldebaran looked around the area. Sensing the intent behind his scan of the quarry, Felt clicked her tongue and jerked her chin again. Toward the back of the quarry stood a crude shack that barely held its shape. Aldebaran’s gaze was guided there—

"—Al-sama."

"........."

His eyes met Yae’s, who had just emerged from the shack. Yae carried a faint, warm scent; she had likely been preparing a meal inside. He appreciated the gesture. He appreciated it, but—

"Judging by the look of you, I take it you got thrashed pretty hard?"

With one look, Aldebaran could tell she was different from her usual elusive, breezy self. Her custom-made maid outfit with its Waso flair was torn in several places, and her red hair, which she never failed to maintain even on the battlefield, was disheveled. More than anything, it was her expression.

It was solemn, lacking her usual playfulness—that was what felt most unlike her. As proof—

"...I'm glad."

Yae placed a hand gently on her chest and whispered upon seeing Aldebaran join them.

Aldebaran felt a slight pang at the emotional weight in her voice, but he chose not to mention it. Instead, he shrugged his shoulder. "Hey now."

"That's a bit too much sincerity for the 'all-purpose useful maid' Yae-san. To think you couldn't even back me up—what kind of surprise guest were you 'getting intimate' with?"

"—Getting intimate? That's a scandalous way to put it, Al-sama. As you know, Yae-chan's heart is completely dominated by Al-sama."

Wiping away the momentary hesitation in her response, Yae’s attitude returned to business as usual. She traced a finger down her chest and continued, "But, but."

"It is a fact that I spent a passionate time with a gentleman. The one who visited the mansion was the 'Sword Demon,' Wilhelm van Astrea... no, Wilhelm Trias-sama."

"The Sword Demon old man? Well, that's..."

Yae must have been stunned by such an unexpected assassin. However, he wasn't the worst possible enemy. While he was undoubtedly one of the Kingdom's finest, a swordsman was a much easier opponent for Yae than a magic user. Furthermore, the Barielle villa was her hunting ground, filled with her traps—the perfect domain for her "Crimson Cherry Blossom."

However, given that "Aldebaran" had ultimately rushed to her aid, the Sword Demon’s edge must have surpassed Yae’s. And looking at her expression, it seemed it wasn't just a narrow defeat, but a total one. Or perhaps the reason for that sharpness was—

"The old man moping over there isn't unrelated either, is he?"

Aldebaran directed his gaze toward a red-haired man sitting on a discarded stump used for chopping wood near the shack—Heinkel. Heinkel sat with his head down, clutching one knee. He hadn't even washed off the red blood staining his entire body. Whether it was his own or someone else's, Al couldn't tell from here.

"What happened?"

"...I was drifting in and out of consciousness, so I didn't see it clearly with my own eyes."

"But?"

"It seems Heinkel-sama... struck down the 'Sword Demon.'"

"........."

At Yae’s uncertain answer, Aldebaran caught his breath and looked at Heinkel once more. Naturally, Aldebaran was aware of the relationship between Heinkel and Wilhelm. In short, it was a father-son confrontation, and the son had struck down the father. He also knew about Heinkel’s fatal flaw as a swordsman, but—

"Stuck between his son and his father forever... the old man's got it rough."

Aldebaran didn't know the core details of the Astrea family's discord. He only knew that the existence of the "Divine Protection of the Sword Saint" and the title itself had created a friction between parent, child, and grandchild across three generations that could never be reconciled. And that friction had surely become permanent after this incident.

"........."

Heinkel had now become completely antagonistic toward both Reinhard and Wilhelm in the span of a few days. Aldebaran and the others had no right to worry about his state of mind. They were the ones who had dragged him into this to use him. Asking if he was "okay" would be nothing but hypocrisy. So, Aldebaran turned his gaze back to Yae.

"And the old man? If he was 'struck down' and that's his blood on Heinkel..."

『—I gave him some basic first aid, for now. I couldn't stay long, so it was the bare minimum.』

"Whoa!?"

Aldebaran jumped at the unexpected voice and looked around frantically. However, the owner of the voice, "Aldebaran," was nowhere to be seen. It was the Dragon Shell of the "Divine Dragon." It shouldn't be a size that could be easily missed—or so he thought.

『My bad, my bad. I'll deactivate the optical camouflage for a sec.』

No sooner had he said it than the space where nothing should have been—the stone wall Felt was leaning against—revealed the massive body of a dragon slumped against it. The way the blurred air gradually took on color made Aldebaran’s eyes widen. "Oh."

"Optical camouflage? You were using light refraction to turn invisible? You can do that?"

『I can't compensate in real-time while moving, obviously. But if I stay still, the disadvantage of this huge body pretty much disappears, right?』

"Yeah. An invisible 'Dragon' is pretty damn terrifying."

Magic that refracts light is possible by combining Yang and Wind magic, but the fuel efficiency for keeping it active constantly is abysmal. It requires extremely precise magical control to blend into the surroundings, making it a challenge that usually fails to reach the required standard. In fact, because it was difficult even for "Aldebaran," he had been waiting in the sky above the capital, hidden by clouds.

"The fact that you can do that now... means it must've been a hell of a fight."

『It was no less intense than yours. Honestly, if the old man hadn't backstabbed him, a bit of weakness might've crossed my mind that I might lose.』

"A backstab, huh..."

Aldebaran slowly shook his head, processing two surprises. One was the terror of the "Sword Demon" who made even "Aldebaran" imagine defeat. Even if the "software" installed was different, the "hardware" specs were undeniably those of the "Divine Dragon." To reach that level after a continuous battle with Yae—he was a monster.

And the other surprise was, of course, the manner of Heinkel’s intervention.

"It's not a simple story where winning fair and square solves everything, but if it ended with a backstab, the old man's mental state must be a total wreck."

"Well, there's no doubt about that. He hasn't spoken a single word to us since we fled the capital."

"I see..."

Receiving confirmation from Yae that Heinkel’s condition was as bad as he imagined, Aldebaran let out a long breath and looked over the group once more.

Yae, dejected by her defeat. "Aldebaran," pressured by the Sword Demon. Heinkel, crouching in shock after stabbing his father. Felt, not hiding her hostility. Roy, cheerful on his shoulder. And Aldebaran himself, a villain racing down the path of cowardice.

It was a wretched group, and they were all in tatters.

"—Still, everyone’s alive."

Seeing that everyone who had gathered at the quarry had survived, Aldebaran relaxed his shoulders, quietly deactivated his "Territory," and restarted a new matrix. The restart point was updated; now, the events in the Royal Capital were fixed in the history of this world.

Which meant the tears that fell from her amethyst eyes were now irreversible.

"But that's fine. The moment I decided to betray everything, I gave up on the convenient idea of making an exception for just one person."

He would not compromise. He could not allow his heart to waver. If he slipped up, everything would be ruined. To conclude that all the pain he felt in his body and soul had meaning, Aldebaran and the others could not afford to fail, nor could they afford to stop.

"Yae, if you've got food, give me some. I'm hungry."

"I couldn't bring food from the mansion, so I stole some from a shop on the way. I made a note of which shop I took what from, so please pay them later."

"You're as shrewd as ever... fine. And take this guy."

"Should I just tie him up and hang him? I've already done that."

As Yae spoke, she moved her fingers smoothly, and Aldebaran’s shoulder suddenly felt lighter. Roy, whom he had been carrying, was suspended by steel threads and hung against the quarry wall.

"What's this, this treatment again? Well, I guess it's better than being hung upside down."

"Stay like that for a while. Once I decide how to discipline you, I'll fix your limbs. However—"

"Don't forget the cursed seal, right? Fine by me. I won't say we won't plot anything even if my mouth is torn open, but for now, I'll behave and 'appraise' you."

"Appraise, huh?"

"Maybe it's because Ley died? I have no intention of succeeding him as the 'Gourmet,' but I thought I'd take a bit more interest in what happens before the food hits the plate!"

Bound hand and foot, Roy swayed in his cramped, arched position. Aldebaran shrugged at the creepiness and exchanged a glance with "Aldebaran." His other self nodded his massive jaw, promising to keep an eye on him.

"By the way, Plan B was a lifesaver. I managed to get away thanks to that."

『Yeah, so the 'Origin' chose that one. I was thinking of it as the 'Second Plan.' Well, I'm glad our ideas landed in the same place.』

"Origin?"

『Calling you 'my other self' is getting confusing. So, how about 'Origin' for the original? And for me, how about 'Direct Line'?』

"Origin and Direct Line... sounds like types of ramen."

Aldebaran brushed off "Aldebaran’s" suggestion with a "I'll think about it." Then, he finally turned to face the angry Felt, whom he had been putting off. Felt remained with her arms crossed, her eyes burning with the same rage—

"You figured out pretty well that it was Miss Emilia who caught that giant rock."

"Hah? You mocking me? No one but Big Sis Emilia would do something that stupid."

"The way you put it, I'm not sure who's being mocked... but you're right. I dropped the rock knowing she would catch all of it."

"...A kick to the ass isn't gonna be enough for you."

Correctly understanding Aldebaran’s despicable method for escaping, Felt curled her lip further in a threat. He felt that this threat, which still carried the scent of the slums, was her maximum expression of anger. But at the same time, Aldebaran felt a different emotion.

Aldebaran’s actions, and Emilia being so easily trapped by them. The fact that he had broken "Gluttony" out of prison. These were all natural reasons for Felt to be angry. But the way her anger overflowed seemed to have another reason—

"...What happened between the old man and the Sword Demon isn't your fault, Felt-chan."

"I don't think it's my fault. It's definitely yours... you guys, and Reinhard’s father and grandfather. But even so, I'm pissed off, and just thinking about the face that idiot will make when he finds out makes me even more pissed."

"........."

"The moment I made him my knight, anything related to him became my business, whether I like it or not. Remember that, you shitty helmet bastard."

"...Remember what?"

"Even if you think you're taking responsibility for what you did, there's no way you won't be talked about in the same breath as that princess. What you're doing is kicking a corpse."

The intensity of Felt’s gaze and the sharpness of her words eroded Aldebaran more than any of the poison she had spat so far. The relationship between a knight and a master does not disappear even if one of them dies. If Aldebaran earned infamy, it would become the infamy of Priscilla Barielle as well. Being confronted with this again, he tasted a fresh bitterness and pain. However—

"The Princess isn't anywhere anymore. Not even a corpse remains."

"—! That's not what I...!"

"That is what it is. To me, that's what life is."

His dry answer silenced the furious Felt. Neither fame nor infamy after death means anything to the deceased. Everything only matters while one is alive. Fretting over the reputation of the dead is nothing but the sentimentality of the survivors.

"Do your best while both you and the other person are alive. That's all I can say."

"—. Shitty helmet bastard, what the hell are you, really?"

"...I'm a following star."

"Following...?"

"A failure of a star that can't shine as bright as the first-magnitude ones in the night sky."

With that, Aldebaran turned his back on Felt, abandoning the conversation. He walked toward the wood-chopping stump, toward Heinkel.

"........."

Heinkel remained hunched over, not even looking toward Aldebaran. But he was conscious. His breathing and his tense body sensed Al's presence. It was easy to imagine his frayed state of mind. Al hesitated on what to say, but—

"I'll keep my promise. When this is over, the 'Dragon’s Blood' will definitely be yours."

"—!"

What Heinkel needed now was not comfort or an apology, but a re-confirmation of the promise. At Aldebaran’s words, Heinkel gasped, and his hand shot out to grab the hem of Al's coat, pulling him in forcefully. Aldebaran dropped to one knee instinctively as a cold blade was pressed against his neck, and he met Heinkel’s eyes at close range.

Heinkel, whose face was also splattered with blood, stared with bloodshot blue eyes.

"You better...!"

"........."

"You better keep your promise. No matter what, the 'Dragon’s Blood'... and the 'Witch of Envy' too...!"

"I know. I have no intention of ending the world. That's what 'Gluttony' is for."

Feeling a sharp pain in his neck, Aldebaran answered calmly. As he did, he raised a hand slightly to signal Yae, who had reacted to Heinkel’s violence, to stand down. For a while, Aldebaran and Heinkel glared at each other at point-blank range.

"Dammit!"

Spitting out the word, Heinkel pushed Aldebaran away. Managing to steady himself before he fell on his rear, Aldebaran looked forward to see Heinkel hunched over again, back in his withdrawn state. Aldebaran toyed with the latch of his helmet and let out a small sigh.

For now, he had a grasp on everyone’s condition. There was no denying that everyone had been worn down, for better or worse, before and after the infiltration. But he wanted to cancel that out with the fact that no one was lost and they had successfully retrieved Roy. Honestly, he knew he wasn't suited for it, but he had to steer this ship.

"For now, we should be able to settle down here for a bit. We'll eat Yae’s food, rest a while, and then resume moving. The chaos in the capital is still—"

Aldebaran snapped his fingers instead of clapping to gather everyone’s attention. Yae and Heinkel, who had been with him from the start, had been on a forced march for almost three days without sleep. He intended to take some time to let them rest.

—That is, if a giant rock hadn't been dropped from the sky to cut him off.

"Wha—"

Just as he thought a shadow had fallen from the thin clouds, Aldebaran was crushed by an immense weight.

But in the distance, he thought he heard the buzzing of an insect’s wings.

—Otto Suwen was furious. He resolved that he must remove that king of wicked wisdom and tyranny. —Subaru’s nonsense about the standard opening line for when someone is angry flashed through his mind as Otto seethed with rage.

The trigger and the target of that rage required no explanation. The criminal Aldebaran had done the unforgivable. He had betrayed the hearts of those who worried for his well-being, and he had broken nearly a hundred of the Kingdom’s major laws in one go. But more than anything, what enraged Otto was that Al had made himself an enemy of Otto’s family.

Otto was well aware that he was a pacifist. Fundamentally, he disliked conflict, and his creed was to avoid trouble whenever possible. Indeed, back when he was a traveling merchant with only Furfu, he rarely stuck his nose into trouble or chose violent solutions unless he was forced into it.

However, things changed after he joined the Emilia camp and became an Internal Affairs Official. He didn't agree with Subaru calling him a "Combat Internal Affairs Official," but his policy of seeking peaceful and mild solutions was no longer his top priority in his current position. The quality and sharpness of the malice directed at him were on a different level than his merchant days, and if he continued with lukewarm, passive responses, he wouldn't be able to protect what he wanted to protect.

At the same time, he could not let go of the awareness that he was employed by a Royal Selection candidate, using it as a self-restraint. As an official involved in the management of the Mathers domain, Otto possessed power and a title he could never have imagined in the past. To avoid drowning in that power and misunderstanding his own position, Otto disciplined himself daily.

That discipline, born of Otto’s effort, snapped the moment his family was touched.

"Everyone has their circumstances. But I will not show consideration for someone who has no intention of coming to the negotiating table, nor the preparation to do so."

If they wanted pity, he would have pitied them. If they wanted charity, he would have given it. Everyone in the camp, starting with Emilia, possessed that kind of compassion and kindness. That was why Otto respected the healthiness of their hearts to the utmost. But if the opponent was going to trample on that, to exploit it, then it couldn't be helped.

If they wanted a blessing, he would have blessed them. If they wanted support, he would have supported them. And if they desired to be enemies, then he would be their enemy to his heart's content.

"Thanks to Emilia-sama, no casualties were reported in the city. The evacuation of the noble district was completed in advance. The knights of the capital are competent."

As he organized the damage report of the incident, Otto clenched his fist. He had to devote his mind to grasping the situation and confirming progress, so he couldn't afford to just be indignant. But deep in his chest, there was a sense of shame—at his own pathetic display.

When he was struck by the initial weight of the unfolding situation, Otto had miserably lamented his own powerlessness and, of all things, allowed Emilia to comfort him. It was the exact opposite of how it should be. That should never have happened. Otto was in a position where he should have been removing Emilia’s anxieties. Instead, he had been half-crying while Emilia comforted him, forced to lift his head by the words of the person he was supposed to support, and even had his back slapped physically.

He had jokingly told Emilia that Subaru would kill him for it, but in truth, Otto felt like strangling himself.

However, the dead never get a chance to make amends. So Otto did not do anything as foolish as putting his hands around his own neck; instead, he turned his mind at full throttle. Fortunately, thanks to the half-crying, his head had cleared a bit. —Though thunder was still roaring in his mind, lightning is useful for peering into the depths of darkness.

He remembered a time long ago, when it was just him and Furfu, and they were rushing through a thunderstorm. A bolt of lightning had struck the cart, burning their entire cargo to ashes. To the Otto who lamented that great misfortune, his beloved dragon had said, 'Let's just be glad that both the young master and I are unhurt.' That opinion was correct. If you are going to travel through a thunderstorm where lightning continues to strike, you must be prepared to be hit. —Whether your life is scorched by the lightning then depends on your luck.

He would eliminate the elements that could be overturned by luck as much as possible and force his way through the storm. That was the essence of the fighting style of the enraged Otto Suwen, who would not hesitate to use cards that would be cursed as heartless. The manifestation of that was—

"We cannot prepare a military force greater than Reinhard-san’s, nor a combat strength greater than Felt-sama’s, while we are staying in the capital. In the first place, the moment it became our turn to act, martial prowess and numbers ceased to be absolute indicators for stopping them."

Somehow, Aldebaran had evaded the "Sword Saint" Reinhard, brought the "Divine Dragon" Volcanica along, and reached the capital after repelling Felt’s forces. Otto and the others, who had just returned from the Vollachia Empire and were separated from their comrades, had no means to counter Aldebaran’s inexplicable execution power.

Therefore, neither Emilia, whom he had sent out with orders to capture him alive, nor Wilhelm and the others, whom he had contacted while they were staying at the Royal Guest House, were intended to be the deciding blow. Of course, it would have been best if Emilia or Wilhelm could have won, but Otto had predicted that was unlikely. And Otto currently possessed no offensive means beyond throwing his maximum available combat power at them.

Otto Suwen possessed neither the fighting style of Reinhard van Astrea nor the strategic brilliance of Valga Cromwell. He did not overestimate himself as having the talent to compete with them.

Otto did not expect himself to be a person who could do things beyond his ability. —The most he could do was exert one hundred percent of the abilities he possessed. And what Otto Suwen could do with that one hundred percent was—

"—The abandoned quarry, west of the Royal Capital."

At the report delivered along with the buzzing of wings, Otto narrowed his eyes as he marked the map. In his hand was a blood-stained handkerchief, which he pressed to his nose while striking his own head as it threatened to grow hazy.

Overheating of the Protection—when Subaru had called the exhaustion from overusing it that, Otto had smiled at the mysterious ring of it, remembering how Garfiel’s eyes had sparkled.

"Overheating, that's perfectly fine. Even if my head splits open, I won't stop..."

Muttering this as blood leaked from his nose, Otto snapped his fingers at the gathering buzz—the Zodda bugs—and gave instructions for the next action and continued surveillance. Zodda bugs had a pleasant temperament and a weak sense of individual consciousness. They shared their policies as a swarm; if you could persuade one, it was as effective as persuading the entire swarm. And the reward they sought for a favor was almost always "a safe place to live."

Otto would use his position as an Internal Affairs Official to secure that reward. In exchange, they would follow instructions that endangered their individual lives and perform reckless tasks that humans could not.

—Like clinging to the fleeing "Divine Dragon" to identify the meeting point, or using the power of a swarm of over a hundred thousand to drop a giant rock on the opponent’s head, or recovering every single message left by the captive Felt.

"...Mogoredo Great Vent."

It was a message left by Felt, who was being dragged along as a hostage by Aldebaran’s gang, believing it would reach them. It had been recovered from the destroyed Barielle villa. To entrust it to the Zodda bugs while evading surveillance—Felt certainly had guts. The message, which simply stated a certain place name in the Kararagi City-States, was likely Aldebaran’s next target or destination. If they were going to move toward it, then by all means, they should move. —However, Otto would not take his eyes off them.

No matter where they went or where they hid, Otto would continue to watch Aldebaran’s every move in exchange for the ringing in his ears and the shedding of his blood.

"Don't think you can sleep anymore. —The whole world is now your enemy."

He did not have the power to achieve victory. All he could do was continue to whittle away at the opponent’s strength. That was Otto Suwen’s way of fighting—different from both the "Sword Saint" and the "Great Strategist"—as the Internal Affairs Official of the Emilia camp, giving his full capacity.