Arc 10, Part 1: "Friends"

"—Sounds just like that Princess, doesn't it? Sticking to her own selfish ways right until the very end."

Felt spoke as she brought a teacup to her lips, and Emilia lowered her eyes. Sitting opposite her on the reception sofa, hugging one knee to her chest, Felt had listened to Emilia’s story to the end without interruption, mourning Priscilla in her own characteristic way. Emilia didn't think it cold-hearted that Felt’s eyes—which held a shade of red slightly different from Priscilla’s—didn't waver with great grief or a sense of loss. She simply thought Felt was strong. That included the fact that Felt had come here herself to learn the details of Priscilla’s passing.

Currently, Emilia and Felt were facing each other in a room within the Royal Guesthouse of the Capital, Lugunica. In the reception room of the manor assigned to visiting dignitaries, Emilia was hosting Felt. It hadn't been a pre-arranged meeting. Felt, who happened to be staying in the capital, had heard that Emilia had brought news to the Royal Castle and had come to see her.

Honestly, Emilia was very happy that Felt had visited. To begin with, the Emilia Camp owed Felt a great debt—Emilia had heard from Annerose that Meili had been greatly looked after while they were away from the Kingdom. Annerose, a relative of Roswaal and a supporter of Emilia, had been entrusted with various negotiations regarding Meili and the Pleiades Watchtower. Apparently, Felt and her group had been a huge help in bringing those negotiations to a successful conclusion.

Because of that, Emilia had intended to find time to go and thank Felt herself, so this meeting was a great help. However, if only she could have brought back a better story...

"—You've got a face that says you're thinking something like that, Big Sis Emilia."

"Eh? Was it that obvious?"

"Pretty much. One look at you looking down with your eyebrows all bunched up and it’s a dead giveaway."

As Felt tapped between her own eyebrows with a finger, Emilia followed suit and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was often told that her thoughts showed on her face, but she was surprised at herself for it being so specific. It also made her feel uneasy. She had been bracing herself, trying to show everyone she was fine and had fully recovered so they wouldn't worry.

"And yet, I'm hopeless. Subaru and the others will scold me if I'm like this."

"That big bro would get snappy with you, Big Sis? I can't even imagine it."

"That's not true. Even Subaru would be troubled if I didn't keep it together. That's why he tells me straight when I'm doing something wrong."

"Heh, I wonder how that actually goes."

Felt laughed, resting her chin on her raised knee and showing her snaggletooth. Emilia pouted slightly at Felt’s somewhat mischievous, teasing smile, but then continued, "But..."

"It seems my thoughts were wide open to you, Felt-chan... but don't you feel that way too?"

"It's a bit complicated, but are you asking if I feel bad that our first meeting in a while has to be about the Princess’s death?"

"Umm, yes... that’s right. Yes, that's it."

"As far as that goes, I'm actually glad I heard it from you, Big Sis."

"Glad you heard it from me?"

Emilia asked back, surprised by the unexpected comment. Felt nodded with an "Yeah." Scratching her head in front of the wide-eyed Emilia, she said:

"Honestly, when I heard that Princess died, I thought it was a joke. She was the poster child for the kind of woman who wouldn't die even if you killed her. If things had stayed like that, I would've just kept inflating all sorts of random theories in my head, and the truth would've ended up buried."

"……"

"So, hearing the story from you, who was actually there, helped me make a clean break. ...No, I guess it’s more like it gave me the chance to make a clean break. Tsk, now I'm the one using complicated phrasing. Sorry."

"—No, I think I understand what you mean, Felt-chan."

Felt looked disgruntled at her inability to explain well, but her feelings reached Emilia. If the roles were reversed and Emilia heard from afar that someone she knew had lost their life without her knowing, she would likely imagine all sorts of things surrounding that death. In those various imaginings, her head would become filled with things she couldn't verify—both right and wrong—until she lost sight of the truth. That’s why, even if it’s something very painful, being cut off from those "what-ifs" is a form of salvation.

"And I think it's even better if the person telling you is someone you trust."

"...Doesn't that sound like I'm saying I trust you, Big Sis?"

"Yes, and I trust you too, Felt-chan... and you feel the same, right? That's why you came to see me like this, isn't it?"

"Technically we're rival candidates, so it'd be weird for me to nod here!"

Felt lowered her legs from the chair and rested her cheek on her hand with an exasperated look. Even so, she didn't shake her head, which allowed Emilia to smile with a sense of relief. When she thought of Priscilla, Emilia’s heart still ached. But she felt glad that she could prevent Felt’s lingering doubts from remaining buried.

"————"

A faint breath broke into their exchange. Immediately catching it with her sharp ears, Felt let out a displeased voice. "Hey."

"What are you laughing at?"

"—No, my apologies. It is quite rare to see Felt-sama so directly outmaneuvered by Emilia-sama, so I couldn't help myself."

"It’s not 'couldn't help myself.' What kind of knight just stands there grinning while his master is being beaten?"

"Please forgive me. I hesitated to interrupt the conversation between the two of you."

The one who spoke, placing a hand on his chest and bowing, was Felt’s knight, Reinhard, characterized by his red hair and blue eyes. Naturally, Felt wouldn't have visited Emilia alone; he had been listening to the conversation alongside them. Watching the friendly banter between Reinhard and Felt, Emilia prefaced her words with a "Geez."

"You don't have to be so formal. Even our Otto-kun has been part of the conversation this whole time... Huh? He wasn't?"

"Indeed. Thank you for noticing. Even I have enough discretion not to butt into a conversation between two people of such high standing, actually."

Beside the surprised Emilia, Otto gave a wry smile. He had been there the whole time. Since Otto was the only one who had accompanied Emilia to the capital this time, he had naturally been by her side for the report to the castle and the meeting at the guesthouse. Because Otto provided such a sense of security just by being there, Emilia had unintentionally felt completely at ease even though he wasn't speaking.

"Sorry, I didn't notice. Otto-kun loves to talk, so it must have been very hard for you to stay quiet."

"If I may say so, I only speak when necessary in the necessary situations; I don't believe I'm particularly fond of talking just for the sake of it!"

"Whoa, talk about a lack of persuasive power. You can talk to bugs and water dragons, not just humans, and you're gonna claim you don't like talking?"

"I would appreciate it if you didn't conflate my Divine Protection with my personality."

Holding down his green hat, Otto responded to the casual Felt. Because Otto could speak to all sorts of creatures through the power of the 'Divine Protection of Soul Language,' Emilia felt Felt’s point was spot on. Come to think of it, wherever he went, Otto was always expanding his circle of friends by talking to animals, bugs, and all kinds of living things.

"Otto-kun has so many friends. I don't have very many, so I really respect how you can get along with anyone."

"Friends... that's a bit different. More often than not, what I'm bringing to the table is a negotiation or a deal; it's a different set of skills than making friends. Thinking of it that way, I wouldn't say I have many friends either."

"Don't go mulling over the definition of a pal. If you're gonna do that, just become friends with our Reinhard. This guy’s got few friends too."

"Eh, really? That's so surprising."

As Felt winked and pointed to Reinhard standing behind the sofa, Emilia couldn't help but look up at the red-haired knight. Reinhard was personable, very famous, and surely someone whose name was known and relied upon by everyone in the Kingdom. Since he had been nothing but kind to Emilia since they first met, she had assumed he was friends with everyone in the country. In response to Emilia’s surprised gaze, Reinhard added, "Unfortunately..."

"Regardless of my own feelings, it seems I often end up making others feel intimidated. Excluding members of the Knight Order, those in my camp... Subaru, and Ferris, I may indeed have few friends."

"Is that so? Even Reinhard has those kinds of worries. ...Hey, Otto-kun, if you're okay with it, would you be friends with Reinhard?"

"You're asking for something incredibly outrageous here! Wouldn't this be an insult to Reinhard-san!?"

"Not at all. On the contrary, I would welcome it. Will you be my friend?"

"Isn't this a pincer attack? Or rather, a sneak attack?"

Caught between Emilia’s gaze and Reinhard’s smile, Otto groaned in distress. Only Felt watched the scene with a grin, but after a long deliberation, Otto let out a long, deep sigh.

"As Felt-sama mentioned earlier, we are currently members of opposing camps. Until the Royal Selection is over, we should avoid overly close associations."

"I see. That's a shame, but if that is your will, I shall respect it. Though we are not friends."

"Yes, please do. Since we are not friends."

As Otto slumped his shoulders while saying something so lonely, Reinhard responded with a smile that, strangely, didn't seem hurt or disappointed. Though the two had unfortunately failed to become friends, in Emilia’s eyes, they seemed to have a very friend-like atmosphere. Furthermore—

"Goodness, the tea has gone completely cold. I'll go brew a fresh pot. Emilia-sama, please continue your conversation. I'll—"

"—In that case, I'll join you. We may not be friends, but allow me to show you the effects of my 'Divine Protection of Tea Ceremony'."

"You have a surprisingly spiteful streak, and being held in spite by the 'Sword Saint' makes me feel like I'm losing years off my life."

Conversing like that, the two of them left the room together. Watching Otto and the other's backs as they were obscured by the closing door, Emilia turned back to Felt.

"They seemed very much like friends, didn't they?"

"Heh, yeah, I thought so too. Usually, that Reinhard jerk’s attitude just pisses me off, but when it’s someone else’s problem, it’s hilarious."

"Ah, you have a 'naughty child' face. But, because of our Royal Selection, making Otto-kun hold back from being Reinhard’s friend..."

"Hmph, that big bro just used my words as a convenient excuse. I don't not get why he did it, but... 'we can't be friends because of the Royal Selection' isn't something you should take so seriously."

"I shouldn't take it... seriously..."

Felt seemed so delighted she looked ready to hum a tune. After thinking for a moment, Emilia stood up with a "Right." Otto had given up on being Reinhard’s friend out of consideration for the Royal Selection. While she felt bad for Otto’s decision and thoughtfulness, Emilia had made up her mind. After what happened with Priscilla, she didn't want to have any more regrets.

"Hey, Felt-chan, can I?"

"Oh? What is it?"

Walking over briskly, Emilia sat down next to Felt, who was looking up at her, and faced her head-on at a distance where their shoulders almost touched. Startled by Emilia’s momentum as she drew so close, Felt blinked her red eyes. Thinking back, Emilia’s first meeting with Felt had started when Felt stole her insignia, which was her qualification for the Royal Selection. At the time, her mind had gone blank, and she’d wanted to take it out on Puck for not being panicked at all, but in any case, her encounter with Felt had not been a good start.

Even so, now, Emilia felt this way toward Felt, a fellow candidate.

"I want to become friends with you, Felt-chan. And not just regular friends, but really, really close friends."

"...Huh?"

"Actually, I have a promise with Anastasia-san to become friends after the Royal Selection is over. To travel together and talk about all sorts of things... It wasn't exactly Anastasia-san the whole time, but we talked a lot, and so we made a promise."

As Felt’s large eyes wavered in confusion, Emilia spoke clearly and rapidly. The promise she made with Anastasia—since Anastasia strongly identified as a merchant, she would surely keep it. She wasn't like Subaru, so a promise with her was reliable.

"Subaru breaks promises right away so I worry, but Anastasia-san is safe. But, even without a promise, I feel like I can't be friends with Subaru, and I feel like I don't want to be friends with Subaru... Oh? What was I saying?"

"The part about you not being able to be friends with Big Bro Subaru?"

"Yes, that's right. ...No, not that! We're talking about me and you, Felt-chan!"

Emilia felt a chill, realizing she had almost lost sight of the main topic. Before the Emilia who had narrowly avoided that, Felt suddenly looked upward. Following her movement, Emilia looked at the ceiling too. She didn't see anything in particular.

"Felt-chan?"

"I'm not looking at the ceiling. I was just thinking about what to do."

"Umm, that's right. Subaru and Petra-chan often tell me that just looking at my face makes them feel really energetic. How about it?"

"Are you trying to tell me your good points?"

"Yes, because I want to be friends with you, Felt-chan."

In the past year or so, Emilia had become accustomed to looking at her own face in the mirror. Since Subaru, Petra, and occasionally Ram praised her face, she thought she’d give it a shot, thinking it might have an effect on Felt too. Faced with Emilia’s desperate approach, Felt kept her face turned upward and said:

"Why do you want to be friends with me so bad? It's fine the way things are..."

"I wanted to be friends... with Priscilla."

"————"

"But I kept putting off telling her. I'm really hopeless, aren't I? Even though I should have known that a sudden parting can come even for someone precious who was fine until yesterday."

Emilia murmured, clutching her chest and touching the magic crystal hanging from her neck. The same went for the sleeping Puck, and for Emilia’s precious family members who remained frozen in the Elior Forest. Partings come suddenly, no matter how important the person is. That sad fact was what Priscilla’s departure had reminded the forgetful Emilia of.

"I don't want to forget that anymore. That's why I decided not to hold back. To tell the people I like that I like them, and to tell the people I want to be friends with exactly that."

"—Damn, that Princess really did it, right until the very end."

"—?"

Emilia had put her feelings into words as honestly as possible. Felt, who had been listening while still looking up, slowly lowered her gaze. Felt’s expression was a smile that was neither regretful nor bitter.

"Fine, alright. I'll be friends with you too, Big Sis Emilia."

"Really!? Does that mean after the Royal Selection..."

"Doesn't have to be. If it's gonna happen anyway, I'll become friends with you before Big Sis Anastasia and make her jealous."

"Ah, don't say that. Anastasia-san is going to be my friend too."

"But as a friend now, aren't I higher up in your book than Big Sis Anastasia, who isn't a friend yet?"

"Geez, don't tease me!"

As Felt laughed, showing her snaggletooth, Emilia couldn't help but let her lips break into a smile. Felt had given a happy response to her proposal. With the realization that she had become friends with Felt, Emilia’s heart slowly filled with warmth. As she laughed with Felt, Emilia thought—of Al, who still couldn't fully accept Priscilla’s death, and of Subaru and the others who were staying by his side.

"With Al, too—"

Someday. It didn't have to be right now, but someday. She prayed from the bottom of her heart that a day would come when they could talk about Priscilla—the person Emilia had wished to be friends with—with an expression other than one of tears.

So Emilia thought, as she sat shoulder-to-shoulder with her friend.

"—And so, you even went as far as to signal me. You have something to discuss, don't you?"

Leaving Emilia and Felt in the reception room, Reinhard spoke up abruptly after they had walked a short distance down the hallway. Holding the silver tray with the tea set, Otto nodded without looking back. "Indeed."

"I'm glad you noticed. Felt-sama’s visit finally allowed Emilia-sama to smile naturally, so I didn't want to ruin that atmosphere."

"As I thought, the matter with Priscilla-sama seems to have taken quite a toll on her."

"Honestly, I doubt there’s anyone who participated in that battle who wasn't affected. Even I, who had almost no connection to her, feel a sense of unbearable weight."

Of course, the shock Otto felt was nothing compared to that of Emilia, who had held affection for Priscilla, or Subaru and Al, who had witnessed her disappearance before their eyes. Still, as someone who had moved with the intention of ensuring as many allies as possible survived the 'Great Disaster,' the death of a Kingdom official—a Royal Selection candidate—hit hard. On the other hand, there was a part of him calmly analyzing the fallout of a rival candidate with such irrational charisma dropping out.

"...That's unexpected."

Reinhard murmured, as if he had heard the voice in Otto’s heart. Glancing back at him, Otto saw that Reinhard had his eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. In response, Otto let the corners of his mouth relax into a slightly self-deprecating smile.

"Is it unexpected that I would grieve for Priscilla-sama’s death? Certainly, it would be a lie to say there isn't a part of me that welcomes the removal of a rival..."

"No, it's unexpected that you would so honestly voice your own weaknesses. You don't need to try so hard to paint yourself as a villain."

"————"

"Or is this display of your true feelings a sign of trust... a sign that we might become friends?"

"It seems I chose my words poorly."

Teased by the playful remark, Otto stiffened his shoulders slightly and resumed walking. It seemed his mental state was in worse shape than he realized. Because Reinhard understood that, he had let Otto’s slip-up pass as a moment of lighthearted banter.

"Get it together, Otto Suwen."

He tightened his own reins, telling himself this wouldn't do. No matter how much Felt lacked hostility toward Emilia, she was still a rival candidate. It was best not to show weakness to the opposition. A state of mental imbalance was at the top of the list of things one should never show. With that back in mind, Otto proceeded to fulfill the purpose for which he had led Reinhard away. That was—

"—I want to share some information regarding Heinkel Astrea."

"————"

As he brought up the topic, he felt the air in the hallway change distinctly. Whether it turned dry or damp, the humidity shifted. Whether it rose or fell, the temperature changed. And the only certainty was that the 'Sword Saint' walking right beside him was the cause.

"Regarding Heinkel-san, he participated in the battle in the Empire as a member of Priscilla-sama’s camp and survived. However, after Priscilla-sama’s death, he was seen in a state of extreme distress, and his whereabouts have since become unknown."

"...Was he taken into custody by the Empire?"

"No, that's unlikely. While they are a nation that can be ruthlessly cold in the pursuit of profit, they are not so blind to the situation as to make an enemy of the Kingdom—and the 'Sword Saint' Reinhard van Astrea—while they are exhausted from that battle."

"Then, he disappeared of his own accord."

Otto heard Reinhard murmur weakly, his eyes slightly downcast. He hadn't intended it as retaliation, but he had ended up creating a situation that threw his companion’s mental balance off, much like his own earlier slip-up. However, he wasn't in the mood to seize this opportunity to gouge or probe his opponent’s weakness. Honestly, he felt he wasn't suited for this, but—

"Heinkel-san... your father. Are you worried about him?"

The question he asked was a sincere gesture of concern toward someone who had shown him concern. In reality, it was likely a difficult question for Reinhard to answer. While Otto didn't know the details of Reinhard and Heinkel’s relationship, it was a well-known fact that this father-son bond was fractured and broken. Furthermore, Otto had even encountered the scene in Pristella where Heinkel had held a sword to Felt’s throat in an attempt to freeze Reinhard’s movements.

If one were to speak of it, the very fact that three generations of the family supported three different Royal Selection candidates spoke volumes about the dysfunction of the Astrea house. At any rate—

"I don't know if it's any consolation, but according to Garfiel, your father was able to withstand even a strike from the 'Dragon.' So, there is likely little fear of him being attacked and losing his life."

As he said this, Otto intentionally withheld the possibility of Heinkel’s suicide. From what he had heard, Heinkel, distraught over Priscilla’s death, had gone so far as to shift his loyalty to Emilia and beg to be made her subordinate. Having been rejected by Emilia and left with nowhere to go, it wasn't impossible that he might do something drastic—

"—That won't happen, Otto. My father would never take his own life."

"...Was it showing on my face like Emilia-sama?"

Having his inner thoughts perfectly read, Otto rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand. Reinhard gave a wry smile and said, "No."

"I simply thought you were being considerate by not mentioning the worst possibility. However, that worry is unnecessary. My father has a goal he absolutely must live to fulfill. It is unthinkable that he would choose death without achieving it."

"If that's the case, it brings both relief and growing unease. There's no telling what he might do when cornered... Could he perhaps try to contact Felt-sama next?"

From Heinkel’s perspective, it was a far more viable option than clinging to Emilia. Of course, that choice would erase the only absolute advantage Heinkel possessed—the strength of being able to exert some form of leverage over the 'Sword Saint' Reinhard. But even without that, it was an option with a high probability of being accepted.

Having lost Priscilla and been rejected by Emilia, Otto thought it was a very plausible choice for Heinkel to pick Felt as his next host. However—

"—That won't happen either."

Reinhard spoke with even more conviction than before, cutting off Otto’s next words.

"————"

In those eyes that reflected the clear blue sky, a shade like the encroaching night mixed in. Erasing even the trace of the smile that had been on his lips, Reinhard walked beside the silenced Otto. Two steps, three steps; without a word, the distance to the kitchen shortened. It seemed the conversation would end in silence, but—

"My father wants me to quit being the 'Sword Saint.' Therefore, in the Royal Selection, which we must win at all costs, it is unthinkable that he would lend his strength to Felt-sama, whom I support."

"...He wants to win the Royal Selection. But he doesn't want you to win, Reinhard-san?"

"That's right. On that single point, my father and I are irreconcilable. No matter what my father wishes, I am the 'Sword Saint.' —I must be the 'Sword Saint'."

Everyone has their own circumstances. Otto understood that well enough, so he had no intention of meddling in another family’s affairs. Even if he felt that it was undoubtedly a distorted relationship for a father and son, and even if those final words sounded like Reinhard was convincing himself. Therefore, all Otto could do was clarify his own stance.

"—Goodness, what a dramatic turn of events. I never thought there’d be a moment in my life where I’d be making small talk like this with the 'Sword Saint'."

Shrugging his shoulders, Otto showed his intention not to pry into Reinhard’s situation. It was a survival tactic he had learned as a traveling merchant, meeting people of various standings in various lands. No matter what information he heard, he would demonstrate—even exaggeratedly—that he wouldn't use it, thereby declaring himself harmless. In most cases, that allowed him to leave a post town without incident.

"Sometimes you get unreasonable people who blurt out information that absolutely shouldn't be leaked in the heat of a drinking session, only to then try and silence the person who heard it..."

Therefore, even in taverns, which are the best places to gather information while traveling, one needs to take care not to accidentally acquire information that is too significant. It was a case of "you never know what life will throw at you" that his experience as a merchant was proving useful even in his involvement with the Royal Selection. In any case—

"Thank you for sharing the matter regarding my father. I will keep it in mind."

Reinhard also nodded, as if accepting Otto’s declaration of intent. In response, Otto shrugged and added, "My apologies."

"Did I just increase your unnecessary worries? In your position as the 'Sword Saint,' I'm sure you already have plenty to worry about."

"It is a Divine Protection and a position I gained by choice. I suppose I should call it my responsibility."

Divine Protections are gifts. Otto thought it was a strange way to put it—gaining it by choice—but he quickly realized that the 'Divine Protection of the Sword Saint' alone was something passed down to a worthy successor after the fact. Reinhard, too, had inherited it after the death of the previous 'Sword Saint.'

"For a holder, the worries regarding one’s own Divine Protection never end. From what I can see, you use yours quite skillfully, Otto, so perhaps you don't feel that way?"

"Skillfully? Not at all. I've been jerked around by an unmanageable Divine Protection since birth. If I could give it to someone else, I’d do it gladly."

"Haha, you shouldn't say such careless things. There are many who envy those with Divine Protections. Though I'm sure I don't need to tell you that."

"In reality, I don't think it's something to be envied at all."

As Reinhard said, the worries of a holder never end. It’s like constantly answering difficult questions for which there are no model answers—problems that cannot be shared not only with those without protections but even among those with different ones. Otto’s reply to Reinhard’s compliment was also his sincere feeling. He had never once been so conceited as to think he had mastered the 'Divine Protection of Soul Language.' And he likely never would.

"Unlike your 'Divine Protection of the Sword Saint,' mine isn't the kind of thing that leaves its name in history."

"I wish you wouldn't keep calling me 'Sword Saint' with such tension. Ultimately, I am still in an immature position, being jerked around by a title. I have no intention of acting superior because of it."

"They say the position makes the man. Even if you don't realize it, you might be intimidating those around you with that 'Sword Saint-ness,' Reinhard-san."

"Intimidating with 'Sword Saint-ness'... Could I ask for more details? Perhaps that is why Felt-sama and Rachins and the others are always saying things to me."

"I'm in trouble if you're going to get this intense over a bit of small talk!"

Unexpectedly piqued, Reinhard began a barrage of questions that made Otto cry out. As they transitioned into this lighter, thinner exchange, Otto slightly lowered his guard toward Reinhard, creating some breathing room in his heart.

At the very least, Otto had no reason to rush into political maneuvering against Felt or Reinhard at the cost of their favor. His own condition was by no means good. Above all, right now, in a distant land, Subaru was in the middle of pouring his heart out for Al.

"Even I would feel guilty about plotting behind the scenes while Natsuki-san and the others are trying to save someone’s heart. —Unlike the Margrave of Mathers."

Unlike Subaru and the others who had headed to the Pleiades Watchtower with Al, Roswaal had accompanied Schult—Priscilla’s attendant—to her territory, the Barielle lands. Behind that concern and thoughtfulness, there was no doubt that his goal was to interfere in the Barielle territory by taking advantage of this opportunity. That action was correct as a Royal Selection participant, diligent, and worthy of contempt. At the same time, Otto felt both weak and somewhat better for being unable to be that cold-hearted.

"Well then, shall we brew the tea? Allow me to show off my skills."

"I shall take you up on that and see what you can do, without hesitation."

As soon as they reached the kitchen, Reinhard took the tea set from the tray and began the preparations. Watching him, Otto took a moment to breathe, thinking about future developments. But he had a premonition. A feeling that something would soon move again.

"...The meeting at the castle is being prioritized even over the arrival of Emilia-sama and Felt-sama. I wonder what on earth is going to happen."

Beside the murmuring Otto, a small shadow hidden in the pillars stirred. —A Zodda bug, with whom he had made a deal to report any movement in the castle.

That premonition of Otto’s would prove correct in two ways. One was the report from the Zodda bug that the discussion at the castle—which had intentionally excluded the Royal Selection candidates—had reached some kind of conclusion. The other was a report from Glace, a girl from Felt’s camp who had visited the guesthouse.

It was a report of complex and turbulent events: trouble had occurred with Subaru’s group at the Pleiades Watchtower, and after taking Al into custody, Subaru and the others were now heading back to the Royal Capital.