Re:Animated, Reliving Life in Another World From Zero

by Tall-Gothic-Guy

A Necromancer is easy to describe, but what people rarely ever know about them is that Death is their final wish above everything else. To return to dust and Rest in Peace in the Afterlife. Give a Death Mage the Curse of 'Return by Death', however, then Emurdol Viandegroc will eventually realize that dying in another world is easier said than done. (Graphic and Mature content)

19. The Reason

"Papa, what are you gonna do when the Royal Selection begiiins?"

Emurdol's face didn't change as he continued putting together the pieces of bone to create a little pillar, his lower body unmoving since kneeling on the carpeted floors, but Meili's Link told her that he's thinking her question over carefully.

"Do you wanna go and support Emily with all you haaave?"

His skeleton hand rubbed a section of a small femur, shaving out the section just slightly before placing a second piece against the groove, connecting them together.

"Do you have a reason to support heeeer?"

He put the piece down, taking another bone from the pile beside him and starting with shaving out the joint end.

"Are you gonna answer meee?"

He paused in his work, looking up to his daughter that was steadily scowling at him for his lack of response.

He looked down, focusing on everything she asked, relating them to his motives, and why.

"To be honest….I don't know. All I ever cared about is living, with you."

"What did you care about in Pandemoniuuuum?"

"Killing people…." Nonchalantly, he answered her, "…and later, killing the Sins. And when that was over, I was forced to this world."

She blinked slowly, "You had nothiiiing."

He shook his head, "I should have died, or have returned to the Underground City."

Meili watched him continue his work, waiting for him to say any more.

None. Just silence, only the sound of bones connecting together the one thing that filled the dark room they were in together.

So Meili raised a different question, "Do you care about Emilyyy?"

"I do." His answer was immediate.

"Why?"

A short pause. "Because someone like her deserves better than what the world offers."

Reflecting to his own suffering as a Priest of the Serpent, most likely. Meili understood that.

"Do you want to give her what she deseeerves?"

He paused, and her Link told her that not even he is sure of the answer. It actually troubled him. Not knowing an answer meant not knowing himself or his place in Life.

She stood up from her kneeling position, placing the toy figures on her lap to the floor, and she walked around their half-finished miniature castle of bone before she hugged him from behind, wrapping her arms around his neck.

The contact alone gave him comfort, putting his mind away from his unpleasant thoughts. She nuzzled the back of his head affectionately, clasping fingers with the hand that held her left.

"When you get your answer…." Her voice muffled against his hair, tightening her embrace, firm enough to suffocate a lesser man, but Emurdol only felt her concern for him, his respiration suffering no problems, "…make sure it's yours."

After that, they made more progress on their little project, and when they decided to hold it off for tomorrow, they spent the rest of the evening together in bed, feeding each other mana.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

He relished the sensation. Warm and very springy, so full of her pure love and affection for him. If it weren't for the current circumstances, this intimacy would have been taken a little bit further than the usual ones they took. With Ram left in the mansion, Roswaal and Emilia leaving for the Royal Selection early today, leaving them with no possible interruptions, it was the perfect opportunity.

His eyes partly opening, his green eyes glowing with his unique emotions, they watched Rem's closed eyes tear up slightly, heavily overwhelmed by the rare expression of raw affection from him. The red of her cheeks were slowly getting brighter, and he was so curious just how red it would get should he take this up to the next level.

With great reluctance, with all of his spirit and will used to douse the spark, he parted the kiss.

Rem's tear soaked eyes opened, revealing the cutest light of disappointment in them despite her pleased sigh as she took in precious oxygen. The mere sight of it is commanding Emurdol's urges to kiss her again, but denied himself the willingness.

"I'll be leaving now, Dear Maid, unfortunately." The disappointment was vivid in the voice inside her head.

Rem meekly nodded, hesitantly sliding the hands placed on his shoulders down to his biceps. "Not to worry, Ser Emurdol. You can always come back to Rem….if you wish to continue…" She barely let out the entirety of her sentence, and the parts at the end where almost unheard.

Nodding slowly, he slid his arms around her waist off her, their connected hands squeezing each other's grasps one last time before parting. He turned to Meili, seated on the table and supporting her chin with her hands, smiling at the two, "I'll be seeing you, An'k."

"Bye, Papaaa~" She wiggled her fingers goodbye.

Nodding to Viandegroc and Mother, who shall be accompanying him, with the latter armed with only her krises hidden within the light-eating robes underneath her cloak, they walked out the door with a purpose. First went Emurdol, followed by Mother, and then finally Viandegroc as he bid them goodbye before closing the door, "We'll return as soon as we can. Goodbye for now."

And now they left, gone to meet the supposed Holy Knight that apparently made it to this world as well. A Holy Knight who wielded his Pericus' shield. A blatant sign that he died in Pandemonium, and his legacy is handed over to the apprentice he had told Emurdol about. And this Holy Knight could actually be the Zakurah he heard so much about from his friend?

If not….

….then the scythe shall drink its fill of blood today.

Meili questioned if her father is actually willing to go through with it, committing murder in the middle of the Capital where such actions would have major consequences. Her Link tells her that the chances are zigzagged. But it depends entirely on who that Holy Knight is.

But it isn't her concern, she's sure that her father can handle it very delicately. For now, she's going to enjoy her turn.

Her smile turning coquettish and lewd, she stood up from the chair and walked over to the still blushing Rem. Taking her favorite maid's hand, the latter slightly taken by surprise at the sudden contact, she met the wyrmm's olive green eyes lighting up hotly towards her and gave a knowing nod.

The delight in Meili's smile rising, she pulled Rem over to her and her father's shared room and pushed the maid down on it, the latter nearly falling to her back but successfully maintained an upright seated position before the wyrmm slid over and sat on her lap, facing her.

This sort of intimacy having been common for a while, Rem didn't blush as much as she did towards Emurdol, taking on a mature flare on her mien and wrapped her arms around the little one's waist, putting their foreheads together lovingly, noses touching and lips barely apart from the other. Meili's flesh was warm, her natural cold temperature nowhere to be found; an evidence of true and heartfelt love for the maid. The latter delighted in the thought and relished in everything she was given, taking nothing for granted.

After several moments in their silence, they parted and Meili leaned forward, giving a light nip on the maid's white neck before resting her head on her shoulder, draining her mana little by little, her embrace tightening. Rem squeezed her back just as tightly before her horn protruded out of her forehead, sucking in the potent mana seeping out of the wyrmm's body, turning their intimacy into a mutual mana-draining session that was both exhilarating and soothing, each other's warmth and heartbeat palpable to the touch.

Scratching her back from up to down, her other hand fluffing Meili's white hair, she delved into her thoughts. Rem had wondered if this is what it's like to raise children that came from Emurdol's society, where giving mana is as fundamental as giving love. It's blatantly risky, as the child could potentially eat the parent's life away. Are they as spoilt or needy as her? So lovably affectionate that one couldn't help but indulge them as much as they liked?

Rem giggled at the thought of an equally needy and spoilt little Emurdol, his little spider legs skittering rapidly on the floors as he ran up to someone's waist and wrapped his small arms around them, looking upwards to the person's face and smiling a cherubic smile.

For the briefest moments, she imagined the darling girl hugging her as that sweet little boy, expressing the purest of childlike love for her, and squealed quietly, practically crushing her partner in her very loving embrace.

Then Rem's smile slowly diminished, the fantasy dying away. Emurdol wasn't raised in such a way, however, as he told her. His Mother was already dead, his father died to save her life and his during his birth, and he grew up without anyone he can truly call a Mother that his biological Link could allow and connect to. His childhood is spent around ghosts and his training, not much time spent to be spoiled or cared for by any family member. His biological mother is just an unfeeling doll, a skeletal frame bound as a slave and defined only by self-righteous wrath.

Such origins didn't diminish his ability to love, however, and that's one of the things Rem truly admires about him. He didn't let his bitterness corrupt his heart, and instead made himself capable of giving the affection he couldn't experience as a child to his adopted daughter.

Meili Sinnuldel was an aftermath of that love. From a twisted individual who murders under the dictations of a kill contract to a sweet and thoughtful girl who can value the wellbeing of others, love anyone and make them do the same.

"Remi."

Suddenly hearing a soft voice that wasn't befitting of Meili, Rem's light blue eyes went wide as she was forced out of her thoughts, her horn disappearing back into her forehead, and turned to the wyrmm that raised her head up from her shoulder and met her eye, a light of doubt shining from her green orbs. It was something she never seen once.

Concerned, she asked, "Is something wrong, Meili?"

Meili bit her lip, creased her brow and nearly hesitant to reply, showing completely unhidden signs of that doubt. Rem was truly taken aback by the sight, as if she was looking at somebody else. This girl was a ray of shine covered by a grey cloud, always making something out of nothing in the mansion.

"Do you love me?"

Rem was taken further aback by the question, despite the intimate moments they had together for the last several weeks. Wearing an assuring smile, she replied, "Yes. Of course. Rem loves you as much as Ser Emurdol does, Meili."

"Do you love me out of your love for Papa? Or do you love me for who I am?" Cold and unfeeling, Meili's warmth disappeared as her tone became low, "After what I did in the Village weeks ago, where I got the other kids cursed and got you involved in the trouble—when I did mean things to you when we first met….can you still love me for that?"

Instead of being cornered in her feelings, Rem only felt her pride and admiration rise for Emurdol. His daughter had the heart to be remorseful and address the wrongs she's done to the person involved. Another product of his unconditional love to her.

"Rem will still love you." She pulled her close, chest to chest and face to face, Meili's beautiful green depths in up close visual, enchanting Rem for their improved magnificence thanks to the numerous procedures she bravely went through. "You see, Dear Sister said that you made yourself a mock servant under her knee as repentance for your actions. She even told me that you realized how unfair it was, the way you treated me at first. It shows that you are a good person at heart, and you had your reasons to act the way you did. Because you love your Father. Rem thinks that such qualities would be worthy of love and respect. Also…"

She leaned back and reached behind her with one hand, pulling out the precious birthday gift she received from her and Emurdol, a token of their feelings for her, and showed it to Meili, making the latter gasp, her green eyes widening. "You brought it with you…." She muttered in disbelief.

A white ivory mask, invoking the image of pure rage. Fixed with delicate curves to signify its feminine quality, the bestial sneer with protruding lower tusks and the carved crease of the brow that invoked a violent scowl or growl made up the whole of its wild contrast. In the center of the forehead was a diamond-shaped opening, a place for her horn to jut through.

Meili had once said: her cute face is not fit to growl and scowl, only a smile is. The mask is to be worn on combat, to better portray the Demonic side of her that her human side couldn't hold justice to. A notion that contrasted the wyrmm's principle to never value the flesh, broken for Rem's sake, something the latter thought undeserved.

The maid's smile could light the halls of a dark castle, "Rem treasures this gift, I think of the time you gave it to me everyday, and my mind is made up to love you not because you are loved by Ser Emurdol, but because this mask shows how valued Rem is." She caressed Meili's pale cheeks, and the latter leaned to her warm palm, "If you desire proof of Rem's love to you, then think only of the reason why this stays with me at all times."

On her palm, she felt the wyrmm's warmth return to her body, the light of pure love fill back her green eyes, practically matching the might of a candlelight that they could burn her fingers if she tried to touch it, and the color red arrived on her cheeks. Meili sat up from her lap, stood on her knees and she kissed Rem squarely on the lips, wrapping her little arms around her head and squeezing tightly, deepening the intimacy.

Squeaking in surprise for the new level of affection she took, she slowly melted to the kiss and returned it, taking it steadily and methodically, according to Meili's pace. Lasting for as long as 20 seconds, but to Rem feeling like it had lasted a lot longer, they parted with a pop and looked into each other's eyes.

Meili bumped their foreheads together and said to her in a whisper, "I love you, Rem."

Smiling happily and lovingly, Rem replied to her, "And I you."

As the wyrmm took a long deep breath that could have exploded a normal human lung, she released it all through her nose in a gust that fluttered Rem's sleeves before Meili moved off the bed, placing her bare feet on the floor and pulling her favorite maid up to her feet.

In an eye-blink, Meili's usual persona came back, turning to the maid with a smile on her face, "I'm going to catch up to Papa, wanna cooome? Or do you have something to doooo?"

The prospect of the offer was enough to make Rem agree immediately, "Yes! Rem would love to! Nothing much is needed to be done except prepare for Ser Emurdol's transfer to Lady Crusch Karsten's mansion come tomorrow, which is already finished."

"Transfeeer?" Meili raised an eyebrow, wondering where she heard that name before, "What do you meeaan?"

Rem raised up a finger, taking a teacher-like vibe. "Ah, you see, Lady Emilia arranged a contract between herself and Lady Crusch so Ser Emurdol can finally have the treatment he was seeking, to heal his throat and his body. As you might not know, the greatest healer of Lugnica is associated to Lady Crusch."

Meili hummed in interest, putting her hands on her waist as she thought about this being the continuation of the feats of kindness Emilia has done for her father in the background, "Emily's working hard for Papa, even though she's busy with the Royal Selection and her studiiieees."

Rem nodded, "It shows that she truly cares for you both. 'A loving daughter cannot be without her Papa', or so she said to me once."

"Pffftt!"

After a few seconds of gathering their basic necessities, they were already out the door of the lodge and sprinting across rooftops towards the bazaar where Emurdol was heading to, to the same fruit vendor they bought apples from. While Rem hopped from rooftop to rooftop as if gravity worked differently to her, Meili extensively used her hands to traverse besides her legs, always landing hands-first and bouncing her form upright as if they were made of rubber, her cloak flying behind her from the speeds she's maintaining.

When her Link sent her messages that Emurdol knows she's coming for him, she speeded up and finally reached him in no time, into one of the roads near the plaza where the bazaar is found and she executed a strong jump off the edge of the roof, gliding for as long as a second before gravity took her over, she saw her father, Uncle and Grandmother looking up to her form. Al the bandit-looking chap was there as well.

Just when her altitude was going to drop, Viandegroc dashed a few meters forward and kicked the ground, his jump carrying him high enough to catch Meili in his arms and gently fell down to Emurdol's level, as soundless as a feather upon his landing. The scene surprised a number of people who noticed what's going on and impressed them enough to clap but uncertainly.

Slapping her hands together to get rid of the dust accumulated on her palms, Rem shortly landed right next to Meili, graceful as always and soundless just like the Flesh Golem.

Stepping up to her waiting father, the latter leaned down and fixed her frayed locks, tucking them behind her ear and adjusting the hood on her head. Leaning back upright, he crossed his arms and asked, "I thought you'd stay behind to enjoy Rem's company."

Smiling, she replied, "Nah. We're done. It'd be boring staying there all day so we thought to join yooouu."

Turning to Rem, which the latter waved cutely at his gaze, he turned to his daughter and said, "I'd ask why did you bring her along but I will hold my tongue. Things have gotten a little different than I planned."

Suddenly concerned, Meili's smile disappeared and looked Emurdol in the eye, "What's going on?"

He jerked his head to his left, where Al was standing by. Noticing that he must explain himself when the wyrmm turned to him, the one-armed man raised his hand up harmlessly, "Ah, hey, kiddo. Sorry if you two are on a date or somethin' but Princess is callin' for him. And considerin' the kinda person she is, I think refusin' is not something of the best choice right now."

Meili turned to Emurdol, the prompt to explain now on him, he added, "I reluctantly have to. I'm going to fulfill one of my tasks for coming here, and the demand of his 'Princess' happens to correlate with it."

"Which is?"

"To know who I am dealing with." The look on his face showed that he is completely unwilling to go through with it, considering the unrewarding circumstances.

Her Link sent her an idea of what's about to happen, and her lips pursed in concern, leaning closer with a hand to her mouth, whispering, "You're going to break in to the Castle, aren't you?"

Grimacing, he nodded, "It's partly out of concern for the Dear Girl as well. I highly predict the prejudice of even the Wise Men to be less than merciful in regards to their views about her lineage."

A silent fury brewed up in Meili's heart, sharing the spite her father had against idiots fearing somebody they don't even know. Emilia is a kind and simple girl, entertained by the little things and diligent in regards to the things she focuses on. Somebody like that has no business being called the Witch of Envy's relative, the devil of the world. But Reality is unkind, and it's not going to be easy for the girl.

The wyrmm sighed heavily, scratching her head as she wondered how humanity continued to be so wonderful while being so stupid. "But what about your audiiieeence? Weren't you gonna meet the Holy Kniiight?"

It's his turn to sigh heavily, smoothing the locks that hung over his face to the side and it stayed there obediently, "I didn't wish to say this, but can I leave that to you?"

Instead of being indignant for basically handling his problems for him, she found herself in an agreeing mood towards it, seeing it as a chance to exercise her independence again. Yesterday was a complete bust, considering the boundaries she had to work in. Crossing her arms behind her, similar to how he does, she looked up to him and asked, "What am I gonna dooo?"

He gave her an appreciating nod. "You answer questions and ask them back with one of your own. Simply do what is natural." He knelt to one knee and held her shoulder, "However, I strictly forbid conflict. Appeal only to diplomacy and nothing else. Whether the woman is Zakurah or not, her life is up to me. If you are forced to fight, elude with whatever curse you know and run. Understood?"

Simple instructions, Meili can manage them. She can tell that he's worried for her, as a Holy Knight is an opponent one must face with good preparation. She is not prepared for a fight, she has enough self-awareness to know that. She nodded, "I understood, Papa."

And he opened up his arms, which she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly, his own wrapping around her small form and squeezed back. Kissing him on the cheek, him giving one to her forehead, he said his farewells, "Take care, An'k."

"You too." Caressing his cheek, she stepped back while he stood up to his feet.

With a strange gesture of his hand, a purple elixir suddenly appeared in his armored grasp, pulling out the extract of complete rejuvenation from the Void. Popping the cork off, he leaned down, gently held her chin with a free hand, tilted it up and neared the lip of the vial to her lips.

Opening her mouth just slightly, he poured a single drop on her tongue before she rolled the tasty liquid around her mouth before swallowing it. Just like that, her body won't destroy itself due to being too far away from him for a whole day. She will not have herself go through torture just like she had a month ago in the cave ever again.

Putting the cork back on, throwing it back to the Void, he turned to the maid and beckoned her over, taking her hand as soon as she's close, "Rem, may I ask you to please watch over my daughter? The task I am having her do is quite delicate."

"Do not worry, Ser Emurdol." As always, the dear maid is always eager to do whatever he asked of her without question. She squeezed his armored hand, "Rem shall do so with utmost diligence."

Warmly smiling, he returned an affectionate squeeze to her hand before releasing it. Meili thought he was going to kiss her first. He turned to Al, his tone taking a harsh frequency, "Let's go."

"Oh, thank god you're done!" Al said, slumping over in complete relief as he put his hand to his chest exaggeratingly, "Any further and I'm seriously gonna get told off by her for being later than allowed. C'mon, man, we gotta hurry."

If Emurdol could growl, he would have done so by now. He has no issue with Al, it's the way he prioritizes that woman's word that irks him, not even objecting or questioning it even once. The man even told him to go with the flow like he does. If the one-armed man could actually suffer someone like that for as long as he could, he greatly wished to know just how he does it.

Watching Al walk for a distance away, not realizing that Emurdol is not behind him, the Priest sighed heavily once again before walking after him with full reluctance in his usually-monotonous body language. Viandegroc, who has taken the shape of the Handsome Boy, walked beside him, likely to act as someone speaking for him due to the latter's lack of speech. Mother was left behind, clearly indicating that she will be accompanying Meili to the audience, most likely as a precaution.

Yawning, stretching her hands up to the sky, Meili exhaled and took Rem's hand, asking her, "Shall we gooo?"

The maid nodded, squeezing the wyrmm's grasp, "Rem shall be with you all the way, Meili."

Turning to Mother, who stood as still as a statue, her skeletal visage covered by a blank mask, a simple curved white plate over her face, while the rest of her is covered by her light-eating robes hidden under a simple hooded cloak, concealing the entirety of her undead frame from top to bottom, Meili asked her, "Do you know where I'm supposed to goooo, Grandma?"

She gave a light nod.

Smiling, she took the construct's armored left hand with her free one and said, "Lead the way."

One more nod and the tall skeleton took gentle steps forward, her metallic grip on her granddaughter's little hand as gentle as if she was holding a kitten, leading Meili and Rem to the abandoned section of the Capital.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Emurdol gaped at what's in front of him, immeasurable disbelief and shock clouding over his entire face, and he felt his mind trying its utmost hardest to process just what the fuck is right in front of him. While Viandegroc is quite reserved in his reaction due to being a Flesh Golem, the fact that he's even making his face express shock simply exposes that he's equally overwhelmed at what he's seeing.

Parked on the side of the road was the most heavily-bejeweled carriage he has ever seen in his life, not even Pandemonium had the balls to have it in existence. The ornaments were impossible to count, golden leaves adorning the exterior, and even the fucking wheels have jewels encrusted in them. The ground dragon pulling it was equally ridiculous; crimson-scaled, two-headed and sporting colorful feathers down its back. The reins are as intricately designed, bringing no end to the nightmare.

Sights like these was supposed to draw out Emurdol's bad side, but this level of opulence was so unfathomable that he has no idea how to react except stare.

"I feel ya, man." Al patted him on the shoulder in sympathy, drawing no reaction from him still.

The damn thing drew the shocked stares of the people passing by, and for the first time, he felt self-conscious in the prospect of being seen getting inside.

"Aldebaran, just how the fuck can you see yourself riding this….this….thing?"

"Unfortunately, man, only the Princess would ride something this embarrassing in this big ol' Kingdom." He said before opening the door and stepping inside.

The only solace he could find was that Al understood him.

Through the new opening, seated in her lonesome on a custom seat was that cocky woman from yesterday, wearing an even more polished dress than before that gave more emphasis to her bosom, especially the wider view of her cleavage.

"Thee has't madeth me waiteth f'r quite some time than I did expect. Such insolence can cost thee dearly."

Taming his features, he didn't give her the satisfaction of a reply and instead entered in, his every step with the point of his stilts a loud stomp. It drew the displeasure on her face he was looking for, and Viandegroc followed after, bowing robotically to the woman and greeting, "Greetings. On his behalf, I thank you for inviting us in."

The woman eyed the handsome boy sharply, "Now I has't not did expect thee to accompany him."

"It is not allowed?" Though his speech is polite, everything behind it is laced with every lick of derision Sally and Viandegroc had against her. The Flesh Golem is emoting the most unnatural state of calmness in its entire being, making no effort to hide the fact that he is absolutely not human or even alive.

"Nay, I shalt allow it. It might grant me amusement if I doth."

Taking on the left corner of the seat, Emurdol sat down and Viandegroc took the space between him and Al. As soon as everyone is in place, the carriage began to move.

Very slowly. The typical speed of a horse-drawn carriage compared to a dragon-drawn one.

Emurdol's scowl grew even deeper. Al noticed his look and mentioned, "Appearance at the cost of speed, man. Easy to understand, eh?"

The fire in his green eyes glowed brighter than before, making his sneer further pronounced. Every second he spends inside this courage and he could feel his sanity degrading little by little. He was already starting to regret going along with Al's request.

"This carriage is pretty much asking to be robbed." Viandegroc commented harmlessly, crossing his arms while his dark eyes stared into space.

"Wouldn't be the first time, dude." Al nudged the boy with his fist, "I just go outside and swing my sword at 'em when the bad guys do show up."

Emurdol silently growled. I wish a horde of zombies would come over and overrun this fucking thing.

"So, peasant." The woman suddenly began, facing Emurdol. "What be the purpose of thy riding in this carriage of mine?"

"Your servant brought me here."

"Nay. That was the trigger, but not the reason. I ask for the reason what thou has't to be in here."

Blinking once, he replied her simply, "Because Al offered the means to reach the Castle. Against my better judgment, I chose to go along with him, which led me to here."

"Correct. That is thy reason for being here. Even if thee aren't in this carriage, thee wouldst still findeth oth'r means to receiveth into the castle, yes?"

Emurdol closed his eyes, incapable of denying it. "Indeed. I would try to break in among other means, but I would simply abandon the notion and instead do something else that may have a good use of my time."

"That'd be a challenge, man." Al quipped in, "Since today's a special day, security's gonna be real strict and thorough. I betcha there's a lot of wards around to keep anybody from sneakin' in."

"Like I said, I'd abandon the notion if it isn't possible."

"And now to thee." The woman turned her attention to Viandegroc, "Why come along with him?"

"Because it is my duty." The Flesh Golem answered automatically.

"Of course, it is. A construct is naught but a slave to the one who made it."

Caution suddenly overtook Emurdol, turning to the woman with a held gaze that contained silent shock. Viandegroc simply stared with not much of a reaction, "So you know what I am."

"Indeed I do." Haughtily, she answered, a cocky smile adorning her beautiful features. "A lifeless doll, an extra pair of hands and legs with a mouth."

"Wait, what?" Al, however, was completely oblivious and only left surprised by the revelation, turning his black helm to the boy, "You….you're not alive?"

"How ridiculous of thee to be oblivious, Al. The signs are before thy eyes, with the unnatural twists of its face and the lightlessness of its eyes. 'Tis but a flesh puppet to the peasant."

"But Princess, it's just so convincing…..Dude…." Still taken off guard, Al slumped against his seat, "I know he's a necromancer and all but I didn't think that you'd be a reanimated zombie or something."

"Do not call me a Necromancer!"

Al flinched from the roar in his head and the baleful green glare in the Necromagus' eyes, raising his hand in surrender. "Whoops! Forgot, sorry."

Completely ignoring the heat that just erupted, the woman in red turned back to Emurdol. "And now, doth thee has't any idea wherefore this carriage is going to the Castle?"

Sighing, he replied, "Obviously, for the Royal Selection."

"Close enough. Why must the carriage head there?"

Emurdol turned to Al, then to the spacious interior of the carriage that is as opulent as it is on the outside, then back to the woman in red, regarding her change of clothing and her despicable demeanor—the signs are quite obvious, including the ones from yesterday, especially Emilia's attitude towards her.

Even if the half-elf failed to tell him or Meili the whole story due to being interrupted, it's clear who she is.

"Because you, are a candidate to the throne. Therefore, you must attend the Royal Selection."

Red eyes narrowing, her smile became lustrous, "Mm, commendable. Thou art as perceptive as I expecteth thee to be." She turned to her companion, "Al."

"Yes'm." He nodded and gestured to the woman in red with his only hand, his voice becoming reverent, contrasting his usual tone, "Just as you figured, man. This young lady here is a candidate for the successor of the Kingdom of Lugnica. Lady Priscilla Barielle."

This woman, Priscilla, nodded in satisfaction to Al's words and addressed Emurdol again, "Hadst thee not did notice the obvious, I'd has't thee cutteth down bef're me f'r thy foolishness."

Emurdol scoffed, rolling his eyes. If anything, he'd like to see her try. Given the opportunity, he'll do what he can to humble this bitch. Unfortunately, the consequences actually mattered to him.

Viandegroc verbalized his Brother's thoughts, in the politest of tones as always, "Kindly expect the effort to be strenuous, for we will retaliate. Even if we have been struck down and died, the repercussions that comes after will lie solely on your shoulders."

"Well, thank goodness I didn't have to do anything." Al scratched the roof of his helmet, "I don't think we'd get the smell out, even if we cleared out the blood and guts."

"In that case, I'd simply arrange for a new carriage." Emurdol's eye twitched at the blatant overconsumption this woman is capable of, "Worry less about nonsense and focus more on mine own satisfaction."

Viandegroc raised a question, "Then what would be the use of bringing Brother and I along? You have business in the Castle and we have nothing to do with your case."

"Oh, but I do." Priscilla retorted, staring sharply at the handsome boy, "Bringing 'long with me the associates of the halfwit has more than special benefits for me."

Emurdol's eyes blazed, his sneer turning into sharp points as he straightened his back and put up his guard, "Of course you can see through it."

"Indeed." Darkly, the woman smiled, "The twit attempt'd to conceal herself with some pathetic rags. 'Tis rath'r fitting she did hide in a nook 'long the streets like she hath yest'rday. It holds justice to her public image."

Viandegroc's vessel remained calm amidst this mockery of their friend, "Are we brought to this carriage just to listen to you insult my friend?"

"I couldst has't alt'rnatives if thee wishes." The woman's aura darkened, and her presence exhumed a pressure that completely matches the size of her ego, forcing anyone with a weaker will to buckle from it. "I'd has't thee cornered, by taking thy whelp hostage, and blackmail the twit into abandoning the Royal Selection. Or I couldst behead thee, and presenteth it to her, declaring she be next. 'Tis a simple matt'r eith'r way, is't not?"

Emurdol stomped the floor of the carriage, cracking the wood underneath the carpet, standing at full height as he glared down on the impudent woman and sneered wildly, the eldritch voice screaming bloody murder, "If you dare lay even a single finger on my daughter, I swear to the Dragon that you will crawl—"

A blade is suddenly drawn close to Emurdol's neck, the hilt of the sword held by Al's only hand. "Lay off, man. We just got away from the guts spilling, don't make it happen again."

Viandegroc didn't sit idly by either, his right hand stretching straight towards the man's neck and gripping it, hanging the threat of crushing his entire windpipe over him. His head split open from his right cheek, a second mouth connecting to his human one gaped with many sharp teeth jutting out in a disordered-fashion, his scalp pointing to the side. His human eyes melted, disappearing into the depths of flesh and leaving him eyeless, completely exposing his true self as an Abomination of witchbeast flesh.

All without leaving his seat.

"You already got how the Princess is, already, right? That's her default mode. Be a bigger man and accept it. If not….well, that's your funeral."

Emurdol gripped the blade Al held and pulled it closer to his neck, barely little space left between sharp steel and scarred flesh. His hair floated against unseen waves, his green eyes blazing like the fires of hell, and a silent growl escaped from his toothy jaw. His swamp green mana surrounded him like a plague as it seeped out of his form in preparation for violence, and it sucked Al's mana in the process.

"I dare you, Aldebaran. I fucking dare you to drive this blade to my flesh and see what happens to you and everyone connected to this carriage, especially that little boy in the box seat when you threaten me."

Just the slightest touch, even a minuscular brush of the steel against his flesh and five heads will fly off their necks for no reason. Meili may have Mutual Suffering as her favorite curse, but he perfected the technique to its limit, to better protect himself from those who would dare harm him and send their wrongdoings back at them.

Does a human born of the Old World have the balls to test a human born from Hell, however, especially a Priest of the Serpent?

Then a woman laughed.

Al and Emurdol turned slowly to face Priscilla, guffawing delicately and covering her mouth with her hand, as if she had just watched the most ridiculous clown routine in front of her.

"Ah, this be a good day!" Her smile was worlds beyond, turning the poisonous flower she is into a gorgeous rose. "I brought thee to mine own wagon and hath entertained me very well. Thee shall receive mine own blessing, peasant."

"Uh, Princess, don'tcha realized what just happened?" Al's demeanor was quick to change, letting go of his blade and leaving it to Emurdol's hand to address her, Viandegroc's hand still on his neck, "I mean, I was about to get my neck smushed and I think I just got cursed."

"Oh, blubber, Al." The woman waved him off carelessly, "Just deal with it like thee usually doth."

"But I don't know how to dispel these things yet….."

Priscilla turned to the seated Flesh Golem, taking the form of its grotesque head in stride as she said, "As to the reasoneth why I hath brought thee two along, 'tis f'r mine own entertainment. I bethink it wouldst be more amusing to bringeth thee to the Ceremony than to useth thee as a hostage or f'r threats. That shall be mine own decision."

Emurdol had no way of comprehending such logic. Even when he had experience in Madness, none of them were ever this high. Not even Greed of all people could match such a mindset.

Then she yawned magnificently, she continued, "Everything in this world exists to convenience me. Furthermore, I shalt decideth the course of whatever I wish. Whatever I decideth, it shalt be. Therefore, all I needeth to doth is decideth what shall entertain me and what shall not. There is inconvenience to me not."

When no one made a reply to her claims, she closed her eyes and reclined a bit backwards into her custom seat, making it clear that she's going to nap and ignore everything around her.

The two men stared for a few more moments before they turned to each other, one sat on his chair while the other glowered over him.

"Uh, ahem, can I have my sword back now?" Al asked awkwardly, as if what just happened between them didn't even happen.

Emurdol continued to stare, maintaining the fiery glare and the float of his hair, he nonetheless moved the hilt of the blade he held by the steel towards Al, and the latter grabbed the handle delicately before taking it off his armored hand. With a twirl, he sheathed it back to the scabbard behind his waist.

Noticing the mood, Viandegroc released Al's neck and retracted his extended arm back to his wide sleeve while his other hand holding the kitty mask moved to put it on his face, hide his eyeless visage.

Al looked up to Emurdol's gaze, still standing over him with his armored hands clenched tightly into fists, unmoving as a statue.

With his usual amiable tone that brought ease of mind to whoever listened, he told him, "You would'a done the same, man, so let's bygones be bygones and stop burning a hole in me?"

Emurdol had nothing to say against that.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

When she heard the soft footfalls, Zakurah finally opened her eyes from her meditative prayers and turned her eyes to the alleyway where the sound is coming from, wrenching her sword of masterful-make off the ground and adjusting the kite shield on her left arm, adorned with the Cross of St. Peter. As promised, she came back to this place prepared, wearing her whitesteel armor, now granting her with every benefit her training had borne fruit to.

And to her surprise, a little one came out of the alleyway, accompanied by a delicate-looking maidservant. The latter eyed her emotionlessly but cautiously.

The child's appearance, however, gave Zakurah hints. For one thing, she had silver hair that seemed to reflect light like steel; her skin was so white it wouldn't be odd to mistake her for a corpse if she was asleep; and her green eyes glowed under the shadow of her hood, as if fire from the green hells was trapped in them.

One of his kind? Zakurah wondered if it was the case. She is fully aware that society of the Underground is fundamentally different from regular civilization, but she didn't think children of such origins would be capable of handling meetings like this. "Have you come as a representative?" She asked harmlessly.

"You can say that." The child's voice was adorably sweet, and it could have compelled the weak-willed to squeal over her. "Papa was very busy so he sent me insteaaad."

The Hero has a daughter? That's new.

"I can understand." Though her sword and shield aren't sheathed and strapped to her back just to keep her guard up, she made sure she didn't come off as antagonizing with them in her hands.

Stood in the same place Gluttony was yesterday, the child stood primly, her hands together in front of her waist and asked, "Is your name Zakurah?"

The Holy Knight didn't so much as blink, taking no surprise from having her name already known despite never telling it. In her experience since meeting one for the first time, Priests of the Serpent tend to be full of surprises when they aren't trying to kill you. "I am. And you are?"

The emotionless visage the girl wore melted, revealing an amicable smile as she removed her hood and left her silver head bare to the world, "My name is Meili Sinnuldel, adopted daughter of Emurdol Viandegroc." She took out a bony wand strapped to her belt and it clicked a familiar rhythm that Necromagi tend to do when they greet someone before the child bowed.

So it is Emurdol Viandegroc. This makes it all fortunate, and equally dreading for me.

"Well met, Meili. It is my honor to meet the daughter of the Hero." She bowed back, then turned to the maidservant that watched the proceedings quietly. "And who shall be this lady that accompanies you?"

The maidservant turned to Meili, which the latter nodded and the former performed an intricate curtsy, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mistress Zakurah. Rem is my name, a maid of the house of the Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers."

"She's Papa's favorite, you knooow?" Meili added with a teasing smile, and the maidservant blushed a beet red. It's rather cute, she can admit. "And Zakurah, can I ask a favoooor?" She requested as she removed the glove she wore, exposing brown flesh that contrasted everything past the wrist.

"What is it?"

She raised the brown hand at eye level, curling the fingers into a fist. It bulged. "Raise your shield."

As fast as sound, her kite shield that hung at her side was swiftly lifted up to cover her front, and a solid thud of flesh meeting hard steel erupted right behind it, creating a loud gong sound. Even with her blessed strength, that strike could have snapped someone's spine in half or even pierce right through the abdomen.

She marveled at this child's power, and it baffled her that such a girl at her age could move so quickly from a few meters away. Looking over the shield, she found the child caressing the steel and tracing the outline of the inverted cross, leaving no evidence of her recently punching it. "Your shield is fluffyyy."

"Pardon?"

"Are you fluffy tooo?" Meili suddenly went around her shield and began feeling up her whitesteel armor, oblivious of the discomfort she's causing.

Alarmed at the sudden close-contact, Zakurah was forced to take a few steps back, "W-wait, what are you doing?"

"So this is what Holy feels liiike? I should've knooown." Her right hand continued to caress the curve of the steel, partially form-fitting but granting enough mobility on all of her joints.

Zakurah turned to the maidservant, who watched the proceedings passively, "Um, is this normal for the child?"

Rem shook her head, her blue locks swaying silkily, "Not actually. It just seems that you are the first person she could ever feel with her right hand besides her father."

So the hand cannot feel anything?

She turned to the child, who was now feeling her breast plate and reached for the steel collar that protected her neck. Trying in vain to reach anywhere above it by hopping, Meili's olive green eyes looked up to her own, "Come closer."

Unsure, Zakurah complied, leaning slightly downwards and the brown hand reached to caress her cheek, pinching her flesh and tracing her eyebrows before stroking her braided blonde hair. A few more moments of Meili petting and squeezing her hair, her other hand holding the glove remained hanging by her side, the child finally let her hand down, taking a few steps back as she put her glove back on and crossed her arms behind her back.

"So, you got questions, don't yoouu?"

Such a strange child. Gathering her person together, Zakurah sheathed her sword and replied, "Yes. I have quite a lot of them, actually. Would you mind answering them for me?"

In unison, the child and the maidservant turned their heads to face the right. The Holy Knight turned to look as well, a rundown building that received damages from yesterday's bout of combat, barely standing up from its foundations. But nothing out of the ordinary is to be seen.

Oh my, did Raeburn give himself away? I thought he said he was good at hiding and surprise attacks.

"Is something wrong?"

Meili turned to Rem and beckoned her over, which the latter quickly complied and jogged to her side. Wrapping one hand around her waist, receiving an arm around her shoulder in turn, the child turned to Zakurah and said, "Before we do, I'd like you to meet someone."

Right afterwards, the walls of the same rundown building suddenly exploded, sending dust and chunks of cement flying to their location, accompanied by the sound of a body flying out of it. In honed reflexes, Zakurah drew out her sword and immediately moved to shield the pair from harm. Just in time for that body to land on the ground. Stood in front of them, her shield raised high to protect her head and her body squared evenly to take the brunt of the storm in their place, she awaited the stone to land.

Except, none did. She could hear the mortar crashing against a solid surface in front of her but she felt no impact on any part of her body, not even her shield.

Looking over her shield, there was an interweave of giant rib bones jutting out of the ground and forming a wide wall in front of her, the top curling forwards to cover her and the two behind her. The sound of stony floor tiles clacking from behind drew her attention, making her turn around to look at the person that was blown out of the building, who happened to be wearing a cloak over the darkest robes she has ever seen that it does not seem to reflect any light as they rose up from a newly-made crater on the ground, the person's visage concealed by a blank faceless mask.

"My Grandma."

When Meili suddenly indicated the masked person's name, the familiar sound of chains rustling as it extended out of Raeburn's club triggered her body into battle but stopped herself as Meili and Rem nonchalantly raised a hand, silently telling her to hold still. The cloaked figure rolled to the side as the octagonal cylinder lined with studs and spikes crashed onto her former position.

The cloak separating in half to reveal a skeletal ribcage, four armored hands emerged from the opening, the second pair coming from the chest, grabbed the chain and yanked the other end of it, drawing out a scream from the exploded building. As Raeburn's voice quickly got closer to the skeleton, Zakurah saw a brief moment of him flying through the air as he held on to the shaft of his club before he was violently clotheslined by an armored arm, his entire upper body flipping backwards from the blow and slamming him to the earth.

As quick as an eye-blink, the four-armed skeleton quickly whirled the chains around his neck, but Raeburn quickly slipped the shaft of his club into the loop before it was tightened, saving him from the worst of the garrote maneuver as he held the handle with both hands and pushed back against the enclosing metal. The skeleton wasn't having that, however, as its other pair of arms it had grabbed the handle and began pulling it towards his neck, an extra tool to strangle him with aside from the chain.

The club's magic stones embedded in the handle began glowing, readying an algorithm that can grant him escape, the length of a ghostly tentacle rose from the ground—

"Stop it!"

Once again, just before Zakurah could move against their advice, the skeleton released the chains and Raeburn's club before pushing him face-first to the ground, the ghostly tentacle disappearing into thin air, complying to Meili's command without a second wasted as it stood up from its kneeling position and walked over to the child and the maidservant in a polished gait, as if it hadn't just tried to kill her friend literally a few seconds ago, the lack of visible feet thanks to the light-eating cloak making it appear to be gliding across the ground instead.

Zakurah regained her composure and jogged over to Raeburn's exhausted form, ignoring the figure as she sheathed her sword and strapped the shield to her back before moving to get the chains off him. "The best at surprise attacks, aren't you, my friend?"

Despite nearly getting strangled, his response was quite casual and sarcastic after coughing a few times, "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for asking, Zakurah." Pulling the club out of the loop, he moved to get rid of the chains wrapped around his neck with Zakurah's help, "That thing surprised me. Shit."

"Language." The Holy Knight reprimanded, getting the last loop of the chain off his neck. "You're in the presence of a lady and a child."

As Zakurah pulled him up to his feet, he moved to brush off the dust stuck on his shoulder as he cleared his throat, rubbing his throat. "I'd do that but I just got attacked, you see."

The Holy Knight picked up the shaft, the chain connected to the top of the gothic mace scattered in a pile on the floor, and held it out to him, "Maybe it wasn't wise to hide in the first place, expecting to be attacked."

"Says you, wearing a full suit of whitesteel armor." Raeburn retorted, grabbing the club out of her hands and swung it sideways, the chains lashing in flight to the same direction before the entire length began retracting into the opening at the top of the mace, the octagon cylinder at the end flying after it. "Here we are, expecting the Hero of Pandemonium to come over and instead we get his daughter and a cute maid."

The entire length of the chains now inside the voluminous depths of the shaft, a loud metallic clang erupted when the cylindrical head slammed against the top of the gothic mace, the force of the collision making him twirl the weapons stylishly before resting it atop his shoulder.

Turning to face the skeleton that attacked him, who happened to be standing right next to the little one, Zakurah asked, "Would you mind explaining what's going on?"

Meili turned to face Raeburn with an unsettling gaze and smile, a rather coquettish smile that isn't appropriate for her age and answered, "I felt somebody else watching me so I had Grandma bring him ooouut." One of the skeleton's hands moved to remove its faceless mask and it presented a skeletal grin, a pair of haunting blue light found in the void of its sockets. The child gestured to the man with her gloved hand, "Apparently, he's a tough cookie. Now, are you going to tell me why he's hiding in the meeting plaaaace?"

Zakurah and Raeburn shared a glance before she answered, "My friend here didn't anticipate the meeting to be civil as Gluttony said it would so he volunteered to come and took precautions in case conflict arises. Also, we have expected your father to come instead."

The girl harrumphed, "Lucky for you two, I'm here! I won't make fights or anything so there's nothing to worry abooout." Turning to a chunk of stone that seemed like it would be a nice place to sit on, especially when it's under the shade of a building's shadow, she pulled the maidservant along with her and sat down on it together. "Now, I'm sure you all have questions so get a seat and we can talk. When it's over, I'll treat us to luuunch."

A child of all people treating her and her companion to lunch? It's something Zakurah has never heard of happening in her life. Not even the richest child in Pandemonium would do the same.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Holding both his forearms behind his back, hood down and revealing his silver hair, he maintained a dignified aura around his form as he walked across the corridors of the Castle, decorated by paintings of golden-haired and red-eyed nobles and other works of art. Viandegroc carried the same gait, his hood down as well, revealing his bald head, wearing the same posture as him and his kitty mask emulated the emptiness of his visage just like Emurdol's stoic face. Side by side, their movements so graceful they seem to be gliding across the floors as they followed after Priscilla and Al, the same thought ran across their heads.

Fucking rich idiots.

Emurdol ignored the soldiers lined on the left and right sides of the corridors, raising their swords in salute towards the group as they passed them by, ruminating that the Mansion is a lot more humble compared to this uselessly extravagant hallway. Though it isn't as worse as being inside that atrocious carriage, this Castle is still sending endless amounts of annoyance across his nerves.

Eventually, the end of the corridor is reached to a gigantic pair of doors that seemed to reach all the way to the high ceiling. The doors are heavily decorated with gold, and he glared a gigantic hole on it.

Stood in front of the door was a large heavily-armored soldier, who stepped up to Priscilla and saluted her with a sword raised. Removing his helm, revealing a face that seemed to be carved from stone, telling of a man that has seen great battles in his time, he looked over the woman and the others with a sophisticated air.

"We have been expecting you, Lady Priscilla." His voice was low but deep with authority.

Priscilla haughtily nodded at his greetings, slightly turning to the people behind her with her head. "They art with me. One is mine own knight, one is a puppet, the other….a comedian."

Emurdol turned a burning glare to her along with a malicious sneer, sharp teeth showing. Viandegroc turned his kitty mask to face the woman, indicating indignance on his Brother's behalf by the mere action.

The knight's face didn't twitch the slightest despite what's happening.

"Comedian, is it?"

"Aye, a comedian. A clown bearing the exalted duty of ent'rtaining me with his tricks and stunts. His leash in mine own hands, so thee need not be w'rry. Certes, thee doth not mind?"

The Knight appraised the two cloaked men and Al, and Emurdol saw his blue eyes twinkle.

"I cannot detect any dangerous magic." Emurdol inwardly sighed in relief for releasing the curse he put on Al ahead of time. This Knight would have noticed it and made things complicated. "Is that sword the only one you carry, Ser Knight?"

It took Al a couple of seconds to realize that he's being addressed, "Oh, you mean me. Yeah, yeah, just this one. I see any moustache-twirling bad guys, I'll chop 'em in half with just one hand."

The knight didn't go along with his playful demeanor, speaking in the most professional of tones, "Should an incident occur, please concentrate on protecting your Mistress, Lady Priscilla. Leave the rest to us guard."

"Righto."

The knight turned to Viandegroc and Emurdol. "You, Ser, do you have any weapons in your person?"

Though only the Flesh Golem was addressed, both men nodded in perfect unison anyway, and Viandegroc replied to him, "We do. Though you might not be able to notice it, my Brother here carries two sickles. I myself have a knife on my chest."

"I see. May I please have an explanation regarding the surrounding magic on your person? It seems as though you are a fog with it."

This knight could see magic, Emurdol took note of that. He could see that Viandegroc is just a mass of flesh held up by dark magic. "If you hold on to your composure, I will gladly do so." His leathery hand reached up to his kitty mask and nonchalantly removed it, blatantly exposing his faceless visage to the knight. "I am but an automaton of flesh and magic. A tool, if you may."

Emurdol marveled at the knight's composure, for his carved-like-stone face didn't seem to move or twitch in the slightest as he gazed at the Flesh Golem's true form. A testament to his years of service as a battle-hardened soldier. "I understand now. You may put on your mask again." He dipped his head to the nodding Viandegroc and shifted his gaze to the giant doors, which slowly began to open. "Everyone is already waiting inside. Please make haste."

"I am superior, so 'tis fitting the masses waiteth f'r me. The reverse is impermissible, howev'r."

Another unfathomable sentence out of Priscilla's mouth and Emurdol could feel his patience reaching the breaking point. Once again, he damned himself for following along Al's request.

As she stepped through the door, drawing all eyes from the people inside on her, Al followed after her without hesitation. Emurdol and Viandegroc remained in place by the door, glaring at her back.

"Please enter." Politely, the Knight urged the two.

Nodding to the Knight in courtesy, the two glided into the most enormous room that they've ever been since entering this Castle. Glittering adornments on the walls, extravagant lighting from the high ceiling, a red carpet spread out on the floor and reaching to the other end of the room, upwards to the dais, and at the end of it was a large throne that took the shape of a dragon. The Seat of Power. If a ruler were to sit on it, it would seem as if the dragon rested on their shoulder, regally looming over its subjects alongside them.

On the right side of the carpet, he found a crowd of men that obviously looked like civil officials, nobles of higher ranks, judging from their ceremonial garbs and attires. To the left side, they were clearly the Royal Knights, having the same attire as the knight named Julius yesterday. Protectors of the Ruler, the elite soldiers of the Kingdom.

In the center of the room, separate from the two crowds and stood in a line before the dais, are clearly the candidates for the throne, given by their bearing and their distinct attires. One, a woman of dark green hair donning the uniform of a military man, taut and dignified in posture. Another, a rather petite girl with fluffy purple hair while covered in generous amounts of fur and having a comically large handbag hanging by her side. The identity of the silver-haired figure with a crown of flowers on her head among them never escaped his mind. Surprised at the opening of the large doors, the Dear Girl immediately found him, saying his name in disbelief, never expecting to find him here.

"Emurdol?"

Oh dear.

Steeling himself, he took a couple more steps forward until he was a couple feet away from the half-elf, crossing his arms behind his back, with Viandegroc standing right beside him. "I reckon you did not expect to find us here, did you?"

Still under shock, Emilia barely shook her head, "N…no…what...what are you—"

Something soft suddenly bumped Emurdol from behind, slim white arms wrapped around his chest and neck, a head resting on his shoulders and the abominable smell of perfume, followed by that unfathomable voice, "What art thee doing, staring at mine own s'rvant, halfwit?"

This time, Emurdol stopped being patient. Eyes glowing in complete malice, his hair floating and his sharp sneer exposed widely, his form suddenly became tinged in an inky black, reflecting no light and seeming to spread across his body like floating black water. When his pale skin was nowhere to be seen, the green in his eyes blotted out in his sockets by the phenomena, he easily slipped out of the damning woman's grasp as if he was made of air.

"Keep your fucking hands to yourself, Priscilla!"

Screaming a monstrous roar in her head, no one else but Emilia and her hearing it, the distorting apparition of ink slickly floated over to the half-elf's back, hovering over her protectively like a thundercloud. Viandegroc didn't spare a moment to get away from the woman, gliding over to Emilia's side and turning around to send an unseen glare from behind his kitty mask. The blatant rejection made Priscilla stomp a heel, bringing an immense pleasure to Emurdol's mind as her red eyes narrowed in displeasure. The entire scene was drawing more than a few stares from both the Royal Knights and the nobles.

Before any flame could fly out of her mouth, however, a familiar drawl that had the power to send chills down anyone's spine suddenly intervened.

"My, oh myyyyy, Lady Priscilla!" Roswaal stepped up with a smile on his face, wearing a formal attire just like the other nobles. "I am dreadfully sorry for the trouble my assooociates has caused you. I send you my sincere gratitude for looking aaaaafter them in the premises of the Castle. I hope you haven't given him too much of a trouble than he could taaake."

Priscilla turned her glare over to the clown of a Lord, "And so the swindl'r steps f'rward. I hasn't any recollection of such a thing. I has't pick'd up those peasants myself. And what proof doth thee has't to proveth that he is associat'd to thee?"

"Ooooh, but I do. I have been loooong in the practice of making my associates carry their allegiance in their person at all times." Roswaal addressed the two individually, "Boooys, please show her the crest."

Emurdol became material again, the inky shroud turning solid and taking color, his black skeleton stilts thudding against the carpet as he took controlled but labored breaths, and he quickly showed the embroidered hawk on the left chest of his robes, opening the bone armor beforehand. Viandegroc showed his from the inside of his dark red robes, revealing the skin of his upper chest in the process.

Priscilla's response was to snort, "A cheap trick. Well, fine. Toying with the comedian and the imbecile hast driven much of mine own tedium 'long the way. And besides, mine own vassal hath asked it of me."

Emurdol turned a look of reserved shock towards Al, completely caught off-guard that his entire time of being forced to suffer her presence for almost an entire 30 minutes just happened to be his idea.

"Princess, you promised not to say anything…."

"Be not conc'rn'd about dram things. Thee'll nev'r groweth tall'r otherwise."

"I'm pushin' 40, there's no way I'm gonna get any taller…."

Instantly silenced by the look Priscilla gave him, the latter strode forward to the line of candidates, forgetting Emurdol and Viandegroc's existence, including Emilia's as she passed by the stiff half-elf as if she wasn't there. Al turned to the Necromagus and whispered, "Listen, man, I just wanna talk to ya again. Honest. Sorry if it didn't come off that way during the trip…."

Emurdol glared harshly before clicking his tongue, shaking his head. Viandegroc verbalized his Brother's thoughts, "Insufferable woman." This time, his tone did not hide the spite that had been pent up since meeting her.

"I must saaaay, Ser Emurdol." Roswaal piped in, "To be found by Lady Priscilla along the way, you are quuuiiite the magnet for the most eccentric of characters. I wonder what could have haaaaaappened had someone else found you."

"I didn't even want to be here in the first place, Roswaal." The voice in Roswaal's head wasn't calm, the emotion of annoyance still lingering behind it, "She forced me on her fucking carriage that I had every urge to destroy it and throw its remnants to the poor. My patience is at its fucking end!"

He expected Roswaal to laugh, as this sort of behavior was completely common since knowing him for a month, but instead, he was shocked, blue and yellow eyes wide. "You did not come through the gate?"

Emurdol's annoyance suddenly disappeared, suddenly confused by the Lord's behavior. Viandegroc slowly turned to face Roswaal, the kitty mask no longer appearing to be innocent as the aura of caution exhumed out of the Flesh Golem. "Roswaal…." This time, the voice only sounded in his head and no one else's, especially Emilia. "…why did you think I would come here?"

That shocked look was quickly tamed, the same joking smile back on his face, "Well, aren't yoouuu? Isn't one of your agendas is to knooow about Emilia's adversaries? Considering your character since I've known you, it would not be surpriiising if you would try to sneak in to the Ceremony, considering that the other candidates will be present."

Emurdol cannot deny that, as he did plan to break in, but what did not sit right with him was that Roswaal expected him to actually go through with it, even though doing so would have made a lot of trouble, not just for him but for Emilia. Shouldn't the Lord know that he considers the risks and consequences of his actions before taking them? Didn't he say that to Emilia in the Mansion when the emissary came?

"Emurdol." A bell-like voice drew his attention away from the strange occurrence. He turned to Emilia, a look of concern clouding her face as she held his shoulder. "Are you alright? Did she do anything bad to you or Uncle?"

Emurdol released a sigh through his teeth, practically seething, "I wish I could tell you, but I would rather be silent. What matters is that she's gone."

"Not to worry, Emilia." Viandegroc stepped up behind her, squeezing her shoulder with his leathery hand and nodding in assurance, "I watched over him and nothing went too far. Let us simply rejoice over the fact that nothing bad happened."

"But what about your audience?" She reminded, and the concern in her amethyst eyes grew, "Aren't you supposed to meet with someone? What about Little Meili, won't her body suffer if she wasn't close to you?"

"We have rectified that ahead of time." Viandegroc assured, turning to Emurdol. "Niece went to meet that person in Brother's place. Rem also went along with her so everything will be fine."

"Really?"

Viandegroc didn't answer, leaving it to Emurdol as his word would be far more convincing, "She drank a drop from the Rejuvenation Elixir. The Rot will not touch her for an entire day."

"Oh…." Relief came over her, placing a hand to her chest. Being around during Meili's potion-making ventures in her room a few weeks ago and having a strange fascination in watching the wyrmm work, Emilia was slightly versed with the names of the many liquids in Emurdol's inventory. "Thank goodness." Then a grim light overtook her eyes again as she faced him, "Wait, what did Roswaal mean by you sneaking in to the Castle?

Just as he was about to repeat himself, a clear voice suddenly echoed from the front of the Throne. "All have been assembled. The Council of Elders may enter."

All eyes turned to the giant double doors as they opened once again, the knight stationed at the door leading a group of elderly men wearing regal robes into the chambers. Emurdol quickly identified them as the Wise Men that managed the Kingdom in the deceased King's place. For one thing, the Wise Man at the front of the line after the knight carried a bearing that doesn't say 'decrepit' but rather 'dignified'. His white beard was so long it nearly touched the ground, his back was perfectly straight too, and the sharp light of his eyes fit his aura very well.

"The Wise Men." Viandegroc remarked under his breath.

Al gently tapped Emurdol's shoulder and pointed at the front of the reassembled formation of Royal Knights. "It's time, man. Let's go line up over there. Bring your bro too."

Emurdol frowned at his suggestion. Viandegroc asked in his stead, "Is that even allowed, Al?"

Roswaal replied, "Well, the proper thing to do would be to eeeescort you both out, but as this will be amusing, you two maaay go with him."

Emilia was not having the same idea, turning to the clown, "Roswaal, what are you saying? If they stay, they might—"

"Unfortunately, Lady Emilia, this is not the time or place for arguments. The Ceremony is beginning. To the Center."

Roswaal's lack of drawl and his tense features left her no room to have any more say to what's happening.

Emurdol reached forward and placed a hand on her free shoulder, the other still occupied by Viandegroc's hand, "We can talk later, I promise. For now, focus on what you must do."

The Flesh Golem drew his hand back and let it hang beside him, "This is your moment, Emilia."

Emilia stared, conflicted but quickly agreed to the notion that they have all the time to talk later, so she nodded, composed herself and returned to the line of candidates.

Roswaal went to his place among the nobles, Emurdol and Viandegroc followed after Al's lead as he walked to the front of the line of Knights, arms crossed behind their backs and carrying a dignified aura despite having darker appearances than anyone else in the room with very few exceptions.

Reaching the front of the line, a rather familiar face was there, smiling at him brightly and amicably, his recognizable red hair and captivating sky blue eyes recalling the identity of Reinhardt van Astrea back to Emurdol's mind. "So you did come, Emurdol."

Internally, the Necromagus scoffed. "Ser Reinhardt." He held out his right hand to the Knight and the Sword Saint promptly took it, shaking hands in greetings. Emurdol managed to hold down his shock at the mountainous amount of power this man had. "I've been looking for you since yesterday."

Thankfully, the Knight isn't surprised by the monstrous voice in his head and instead taking it in stride, replying without a beat lost, "Well, you have to forgive me. I have been busy with preparations for the Ceremony, you see. I hope my lack of presence at your request didn't bring too much of a trouble."

Emurdol shook his head.

Reinhardt turned his eyes to the Flesh Golem, "I see you brought company with you. May I know his name?"

Giving Viandegroc a prompting nod, the latter lightly clapped the rhythm of greetings and bowed with a hand to his chest, "Greetings. My name is Viandegroc, his Brother."

Wearing a friendly smile, he bowed politely in turn, "It is an honor to meet you, Ser Viandegroc. It must be a blessing to have a magnificent man like Emurdol to be your brother, isn't it?"

Emurdol huffed at the rather sincere praise. It's truly reminding him of that Idiot, Pericus. If the Holy Knight he was supposed to meet this day actually turned out to be Zakurah, he can perfectly see that bastard's aged face smiling smugly for winning the bet. If he met the pacifistic knight's apprentice at any point of his living life, he would owe Pericus rotting corpse.

"Yohoo, Emewdul!" Suddenly, a cutesy call accompanied by a smile and a wave occurred right behind him, making him turn around. Emurdol's reaction was to frown exasperatingly. "Hey, what's with the frownies there? Aren'tcha glad to see meow?"

He shook his head.

It's the demihuman emissary, the supposed Greatest Healer of the Capital. And to his slight surprise, he found her wearing a Royal Knight's regalia, one of female design and a skirt to accompany it. Instead of a sword at her hip, she had a dagger instead. He didn't think that such a personality happened to be one of the Ruler's Protectors.

Noticing a blur of purple on his peripheral vision, he turned to look at its source and it happened to Julius, who nodded politely to him in greetings. So many familiar faces at arm's reach.

He returned the courtesies.

"Ah, I see you have acquainted yourself with Julius as well." Reinhardt remarked, noticing the exchange.

"They met yesterday." Viandegroc told.

"Indeed we have." Julius replied, turning to Viandegroc. "Though, I don't remember seeing you back then, my good Ser."

"Consider me an extra pair of hands and legs. What my Brother does or knows, it extends to me as well."

"Very well." He bowed elegantly, down in the same manner he did to Emilia yesterday. "I am Julius Euclius of the Royal Knights. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, to your Brother, and….to the good knight beside him."

His pompous introduction did not sit right with Emurdol's liking again.

Languidly, Al replied to him, "Hey, don't get stuck on the formalities, alright? I ain't a good knight or anything so don't bother. I'm uh….whatchamacallit—a common cutthroat. I'm not one of the high and mighty like you."

Emurdol's opinion for Al has now grown back up after having it plummet back in that monstrous carriage. Even if it's not himself, he'd enjoy verbal jabs aimed at anyone he has issues with.

"The gentlemen of the Council of Elders and the candidates have been assembled. If I may be so bold, I, Captain of the Royal Knights, Marcus, shall oversee the proceedings."

Noting its beginning, Emurdol and Viandegroc adjusted themselves into attention just like the rest of the knights behind them, crossing their arms behind their backs and standing straight, unmoving like statues and stone. Fitting for dignified Priests of the Serpent.

Reinhardt stood to his right, at the very edge of the front row. Emurdol stood next to him, taking steady but imperceptible breaths. Al stood at the Necromagus' left, casual in posture as always. Viandegroc stood at the chap's left, very still. Right behind the first two, the Healer and Julius stood at attention, dignified as their uniform signifies.

Throughout, Emurdol could not stop being stiff, feeling that the worst is about to come. For some reason or another, his concern for Emilia cannot leave his mind in any way.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

"Hmm…so you guys did chaaaange." She leaned to Rem's shoulder, appreciating the soft pats on her hair. "Papa's friend really made good on his promise."

"God has taken him to His Kingdom for his efforts." Solemnly, Zakurah bowed in honor of him, "From the fruits of my Master's labors, we will reform the Holy Knights and do what we should have been doing ever since the Church formed us."

"I'm a little disheartened that I didn't get to see it happen though." Raeburn commented, bouncing his heel against the ground while resting his club on his lap as he sat on a chair made out of bones. "I would have liked to join Pericus's crusade, just to get back at the bastards who made my village suffer."

A leer made its way to Meili's face, her left hand holding Rem's right as their interlocked grasp rested atop their laps. "Papa might have did that for you, considering he killed a lot of Holy Knights before coming here."

Rem passively looked at Zakurah's face. Not a twitch from the Lady Knight, "Something for me to be grateful for. Their lesser numbers must have made my Master's crusade easy."

"A bloodless crusade." The man shook his head in disapproval, though the smile on his face emanated admiration. "Pericus is a madman, walking in there and swinging that tower shield left and right, incapacitating every Holy Knight that came at him before killing only the Cardinal."

Rem easily caught on to the implication of not killing assailants, aiming only to wound than kill, bringing even more strain on the person's body. "But the knight overexerted himself to the point of death, didn't he?"

"Yes." Zakurah nodded, "I was there, hiding from the conflict and watched as my Master fought knight after knight with his shields, forcing his body to its very limit, never killing even a single one of them. Granted, he did break their bones, but they never died. They lived long enough to see the poison and lies the Cardinal has been feeding them before my Master killed him. I was able to comfort him until his final breath. At that point, I took his armor, his shield, his legacy, and I led the reformation of the Holy Knights, submitting ourselves to the Humility that truly defines a holy man and woman. 5 years later, our efforts have shown when the populace is slowly opening their hearts to us again."

"And what of Papa's kind? My kind, to be specifiiic." Meili asked.

Zakurah huffed and chuckled, "Ever since the Hero's exploits, they are now treated the same way as elephants. They are admired and marveled from afar if they are ever seen, but are treated with proper respect when they approach human contact. Granted, not everyone likes them but the common instinct to attack them on sight no longer exists, unless they are inclined to suicide, of course."

Rem began smiling, and the sight of it captivated Raeburn, "Ser Emurdol is truly amazing." Among other things the Necromagi family has shared with her, she is trusted enough with the knowledge of Emurdol being from beyond the Great Waterfall.

"How about me? Am I amaziiing?" Meili turned to face Rem, her signature sweet smile worn on her face.

The maid pulled the child close and kissed her forehead and nose, drawing out a giggle from the wyrmm, "Rem thinks you are magnificent, Meili."

Meili beamed as they put their foreheads together, having Rem's mana drained and replenished at the same time under the wyrmm's hand. A rather satisfying sensation.

Returning to the other two, they noticed that the standing knight and the seated man were cooing over the two with their eyes, smiling warmly at their very intimate exchange. "Oh, ignore us. Please go on." Zakurah told.

"I'll be stating the obvious here, but you two are so sweet." Raeburn pointed out, resting his chin on the pommel of his club as its business end rested on the ground. "It's a bit hard to believe that you two are quite close to the psycho-faced guy who nearly killed me."

"Ser Emurdol simply had no time to show it back in Pandemonium." Rem justified, her free hand automatically reaching up to touch her lips, having just been kissed by him not too long ago, making her blush even more.

Raeburn noticed the implication, bringing even more disbelief.

"In here, he's all hugs and kisses with uuuus~" Meili can sympathize with him. Who her Father was before coming to this world where he grew and matured was very different. Being in a world where he doesn't have to look out for himself too often changed him. Pandemonium is too full of backstabbers and monsters, such things can warp a man's growth, no matter how old.

"Is that so?" Zakurah asked rhetorically, "And it's only a month since each of you meet him? I could only imagine how the first meetings went."

The bright atmosphere surrounding the two girls suddenly dimmed, and Raeburn noticed it quickly before their body languages and faces shifted. Rem's mien fell, looking down to the floor while Meili's smile became venomous, showing more sharp teeth than necessary for a smile to allow, and her eyes glowed a malignant light of green.

In a voice devoid of its sweet pitch, a cold droll escaped Meili's lips, "Not the way you think, Miss Knight."

The Holy Knight quickly noticed her mistake, bowing her head apologetically, "Not well, I take it. I'm sorry, I didn't know."

However, Rem was the first to recover, returning that captivating smile on her face that wouldn't have existed if not for the bad things that had happened, "But…if it weren't for them, we wouldn't have gotten close to each other as we are now."

She looked at her joined hands with Meili, with the same girl who was part of the cause of her suffering before the fifth day of Emurdol's stay. She squeezed the hand and brought it to her lips, giving it a kiss, projecting her love through it.

She is firm towards the undeniable fact. This wouldn't have been possible without him.

"Ser Emurdol….saved us both."

Silence was held, leaving the two to think over her words. Meili pulled Rem's palm to her lips and idly nibbled on it, blowing a light raspberry on random intervals. The maid stroked her silver hair, lithe fingers easily sliding through the silky tresses.

Raeburn finally broke the silence, his tone careful and considerate, "Hey, Meili, I've been meaning to ask."

Olive green orbs turned to face him.

"That one. Your….'Grandma', I mean." He gestured to the hooded skeleton, still as a statue and have watched the conversation play out since the beginning, and it turned its visage to face the man. Nonplussed by its blue light stare, he asked, "The last time I saw your Pa, he had six arms in his person. I thought he was actually born with them but I eventually found out in the midst of battle that he's actually wearing a skeleton. Could this be that one?"

"Mm hm."

"Huh…." He quirked a peculiar eyebrow, marveling at how such a feat could be managed. "….so how'd they end up separating? What's the history behind it?"

"Pfft!" Meili nearly broke out laughing, covering her mouth with her gloved hand. Clearly, the man is trying to avert the two girl's minds away from the recent topic that they didn't want to discuss any further than Rem had, only to unintentionally lead them right back into it. The rough quality of the child's mirth indicated bitterness, an attempt to drown out the memory resurfacing to her consciousness.

Zakurah immediately got the clue when she saw the troubled look on the maidservant's face, "My friend, I think you should just shut up. This is the second time now."

The look of regret was clear on Raeburn's face, but he took the time to shoot an exasperated look towards the Holy Knight's direction, "You did it first!"

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

A yellow dress that rivaled Beatrice's own attire in terms of extravagance, bright golden hair that was scrupulously arranged sparkled against the lighting like shiny metal, the priceless ruby necklace that hung from a choker around her slim neck matched the strong fire in her red eyes and the look of dignity on her face—she looked nothing like the Felt he met back on the Slums.

Scruffy hair, dressed in unwashed rags, and having a snaggletooth smile on her face: such was the little one he knew on the first day of this world. This young lady was dazzling.

He heard that Reinhardt had taken her to custody, but never in Emurdol's worst assumptions would he ever think that she would end up being dressed up as a candidate for the Seat of Power.

The fact that her physical features looked exactly like the people painted in the corridor portraits does not help either.

In slow steps, followed by a pair of ladies-in-waiting, Felt slowly reached Reinhardt and stood before him, oblivious to the gobsmacked Emurdol behind him. With a nod and a beautiful smile on his face, the Knight's tone was of the highest respects, "Lady Felt, we are grateful for you gracing us with your presence."

"Reinhardt." Her voice was as clear as a bell, potentially rivalling Emilia's own.

"Yes?"

She raised the hem of her dress, her slim leg raising up and—

"You jerk! Dragging me all the way here with no explanation, just what the hell is going on!?"

—arched directly to the Knight's face, which was stopped and caught by a single hand.

The shock rolled across the room like a wave. The Knights were quite reserved in their reaction but a large crowd of the nobles weren't quite able to do the same.

"I am quite surprised. What brought this on so suddenly?"

Still stood on one leg, Felt violently slapped her extravagant and very expensive dress in her anger. The ladies-in-waiting were unable to bear the sight of her doing it and wilted to the floor, eyes rolling. "Don't block me and then play dumb! It's this place! The clothes! Them! You! The hell is going on here!? I can't take any more of this!"

"Do you dislike the dress? I believe it becomes you very wonderfully."

"It's not the dress, and it's not like I'm embarrassed about it! I'm saying I hate it! And not just the dress! That includes you too! Don't you think abducting and holding a girl against her will is not very knightly!?"

Reinhardt replied to that question without missing a beat, "If it is for the prosperity of the Kingdom, it must be done."

Emurdol huffed at his declaration while Felt only put a hand to her forehead, keeled over by everything.

He was very glad that Felt did not change a bit. If she actually had changed from a brash-mouthed thief on the streets to a prim and dainty princess after a single month under Reinhardt's custody, he will end up having a very good reason to fear the Knight.

He's going to wonder how Rom would react once he tells him this, his precious charge adorned with all the riches she yearned for.

"It's her….so…so that's why Reinhardt was so surprised…" Emilia's surprise could not be ignored. And the Necromagus couldn't believe the thought of it. The same person who stole her insignia happened to be her rival.

This better be a coincidence. He gritted his teeth at the thought of it otherwise.

Felt scanned the chambers, sizing up the environment and the people occupying it, especially the Knights at the front row—and quickly noticed Emurdol's presence, being taller than a large majority of the crowd and being the darkest in attire, her features brightening. "Hey! How'd you end up all the way here, Old Man?"

And she never bothered to remember my name. Instead of being annoyed like last time, he was quite refreshed by it.

Shoving Reinhardt aside by the chest, he walked over to him nonchalantly, unaware of the ongoing Ceremony that was waiting on her. "Hi! It's been a while, right? Looks like you've been doing fine since we've last met!"

His armored hand immediately shot forward to grab the foot that was about to meet his abdomen by the ankle. His other hand poked out of his cloak to wiggle a metal claw at her chidingly before letting go.

"Heh. Looks like you're doing alright with that cut on your gut. But looks like you got new ones on you, especially your neck. You doing okay?"

"It is nice to see you again, Little One."

"Whoa!" She jumped at the eldritch voice in her head, her hands adorned by elbow-length gloves reaching up towards it, "What was that? Was that you?"

Her rowdy personality is actually relieving the worried tension of his body, and he appreciated it. A good breath of fresh air in this environment. Away from all the formalities and high-strung mood of it all. "I appreciate your composure."

"Well, can you tone it down a bunch? It sounds like it's coming out of my nightmares."

A dignified voice called out from the front, "Lady Felt. If you are finished greeting your old friend, could you please come this way?"

Scowling, Felt left Emurdol's space and joined the line of candidates as Marcus directed. "Alright, what do you want me to do here?"

Reinhardt stepped up to her, "I would say 'act more like a lady' but first, I would like you to hold this." Giving an insignia on her gloved hand, the gem on it began glowing a bright white light.

Emurdol wryly smiled. So she is a candidate too.

"I thought about it when I stole one of these but why do they glow?"

Oh dear.

Marcus echoed the suspicious word, "Stole?"

Reinhardt, however, quickly followed up, "As you can see, the Dragon Jewel acknowledges Lady Felt as a Priestess. Now that her participation has been confirmed, I believe that this Royal Selection can legitimately begin."

Marcus put a hand to his chest and knelt down on one knee. Reinhardt followed suit, polished in execution. Deciding to play along, Emurdol and Viandegroc clapped the rhythm of reverence and bowed their hands with a hand to their chest when the entire squadron of Knights subsequently performed their courtesies in perfect unison.

For a moment, silence passed by as they relished the thought of finally beginning the Ceremony, then it was broken.

"Pardon me, if I may?" A noble stepped forward, raising his hand. "I have no words sufficient to thank the Knights of the Kingdom and the Royal Knights in particular, for everything related to this royal selection ceremony. Without their assistance, it surely would not have been possible to arrange this in such a short time."

"You are too kind." Marcus replied to him on the behalf of every knight in the Kingdom.

"However, and it brings me no joy to say this, but even though we are following the Dragon Tablet, are there not various….issues with those selected?"

Emurdol wasn't sure which one he's talking about, either Felt or Emilia.

"May I request clarification on that?"

"I am wondering if we have been too focused on those qualified to be Dragon Priestesses and not enough on those qualified to wear the very crown of the Kingdom without becoming an object of ridicule?"

Emurdol could hear the tinge of anger behind his voice. There was also others who hollered their agreement with the man's words.

The man continued, "The Covenant with the Dragon is the gravest matter. Lugnica has come this far as the Dragon Kingdom and cannot survive as a nation without the Covenant."

Dependent fuck. Emurdol's opinion on him and possibly anyone else who thinks exactly according to his words devolved to only that one thing.

"But valuing the Covenant so much more than the people will sow the seeds of future discord."

Marcus blinked, maintaining his stoic mien of stone, "In other words, the Dragon Priestesses we knights have spilled our blood to search for would not make Kings worthy of our fealty?"

Emurdol felt the anger in the air emanating from the Royal Knights. Finding five specific people in a population of more than hundreds of thousands of people is not something anyone can boast about, and it certainly did not come without a cost. The noble is basically blotting out their efforts.

"Th-that is not how I would put it, but essentially, yes."

Emurdol took pleasure in the quivering of his words.

"Well, sure sounded like he's talkin' trash about the knights." Al pointed out cheerfully, "Don't really care since I'm not one but how 'bout you two? Do you care?"

The two he addressed, the Healer and Julius turned to face the chap. "Your dear Feli doesn't really mind, meow. I mean, whatever Beardy says, Feli's fealty is already to one person, you see."

Julius followed up, "I will not go quite as far as Felis, but I share the same sincerity. I have already pledged my blade. One day, they will offer their fealty to another. I do not intend to be so narrow-minded that my heart would be disturbed prior to that day."

Al added his own to the mix, "Yeah, nice one. It's the same with me where Princess is concerned, of course."

Felis is pledged to Crusch. Al is pledged to Priscilla. Julius could be pledged to Anastasia. The three and their raw devotion left Emurdol out. Though he isn't too bothered by it, the question still remained.

Does he share the same amount of fealty and devotion to Emilia? Would he do anything to make her goals come true?

He has no answer to that. Just days ago, all he ever cared about was sharing a life in the Mansion with Meili. Emilia was just a part of that life, sharing the happiness as well as being the cause of it. Now it's all changing in this very moment, and his role is affected by it as well. Should he appeal to it or not?

The unrest continued amongst the nobles and government officials.

"One must be both priestess and king. Perhaps they are not sufficiently aware enough that they are about to bear the crown?"

"No matter how dressed up they are, their demeanor exposes their true natures."

"They aren't refined enough. Their education is lacking. How can they be monarchs like this?"

A particular voice spoke louder than the rest, "Surely, it is not a proooblem. I personally think such a bounty of personaaaality will make for a highly amuuuusing Royal Selection."

"You be quiet!"

The noise and displeasure is slowly rising. Turning to face Emilia, he could see her trying to endure all this pressure from the nobles, as if she was personally attacked by their words. It brought a sour taste in his mouth, but he wasn't sure if it was because of her lacking mental fortitude or because of the nobles themselves. It brought further question to his motivations of why he must support her or if he should at all.

"Silence." The head of the Council of Elders quieted them. With everyone shutting their mouth, he regarded Felt. After keeping his silence for a time, the Wise Man hummed, "Hmmm. That was somewhat irreverent behavior, so I do understand Ser Rickert's view. In that light, I believe everyone deserves a brief summation of the candidate's personal history."

Another Wise Man, one that was bald and stern seconded the suggestion, "Indeed. We can decide whether she is suitable or not from that."

With the other Wise Men nodding in assent, the head addressed Reinhardt, "Ser Reinhardt, we would first hear the highlights of what you know."

Being called, Reinhardt bent down to one knee and complied. Emurdol could only imagine more oil being thrown to the fire once he starts speaking, "Until approximately one month ago, Lady Felt was living in a corner of the Lower Quarter of the Royal Capital—also known as the Slums. An occasion arose where she had an opportunity to touch a Dragon Jewel. Having judged that she was qualified to be Dragon Priestess, I brought her with me as a matter of course."

No mention of the assassination attempt, no mention of the theft, and no mention of other gruesome details that happened. But Emurdol doubted that to be any satisfying.

And just as Emurdol expected, it was oil to the fire.

"A waif from the slums….! Ser Reinhardt, are you insane!?" The same noble's face became red, exploding in his words, "You bring a vagrant from the streets to a ceremony to select the monarch who must shoulder the future of Lugnica!? Just what do you think the Royal Throne is!?"

The Knight had no reply, maintaining his dignity and showing not even a lick of being affected by his words. He was a fortress wall against them.

Rickert addressed the head of the Council, "Someone who is suitable for the crown should be selected. We cannot simply lay our hands on whoever happens to walk by—"

"Mr. Rickert, aren't you toooo slightly heated over this matter?"

"Preposterous, Roswaal. I strongly do not approve of your conduct. Not just I but all of the officials. Until now we have overlooked this because we are in a time of crises, but I shall still my tongue no longer. Not about the House of Astrea hauling a waif into these halls, nor you, the fool nominating a half-demon to be monarch….!"

"GRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHH!‼!"

"Mr. Rickert. I would suggest you amend your comments."

Roswaal's icy words silenced the noble, making him pale and terrified. The diabolical growl that emanated inside his head only occurred for half-a-second, but the intensity behind it was enough for him to realize that he must watch his mouth. Emurdol's bright green glare burned a massive hole in the bastard's skull, and Viandegroc's neck twisted to face the same direction, his kitty mask belying the hunger growing inside his body.

"It is poor manners to address a half-elf as a 'half-demon'. Furthermore, Lady Emilia remains a royal candidate." Roswaal was pointing out the crime of insulting an heir to the throne. Given the opportunity, Emurdol would punish him for his insolence. "Do you understand which of us should remember his place?"

The man was silent, cowed by the Lord's words and the power behind it. He surely noticed the glare the cloaked men among the Knights were sending him, giving him further incentive to shut up.

"Ser Reinhardt." The head turned his attention to the kneeling Knight, "Could this girl….?"

"I cannot be absolutely certain, for the means to prove with absolute certainty no longer exists. However, I must resist the urge to call this coincidence happenstance."

"What would you call it then?"

"Fate."

As if the word actually had any sort of special meaning, the head contemplated it carefully as he closed his eyes.

The Necromagus inwardly scoffed but he had his eyebrow raised in question, and likely did the others around him, not knowing what context the two were talking about.

The head turned to the other Wise Men and the nobles, "Have you not noticed? Take another good look at Lady Felt. If you cannot tell, even by that, I must question your fidelity to your own Kingdom."

The nobles scrutinized Felt intensely with bated breath. Overwhelmed by their stares, Felt scowled without restraint.

Emurdol waited, for a few seconds.

Then it came, "Blond hair….and crimson eyes…..!?"

As Rickert specified her details, the other nobles and officials were struck with the same shock and surprise like a wave. Emurdol had a slight inkling as to why.

As he could easily remember, the portraits in the corridors were full of blond-haired and red-eyed persons.

"Blond hair and crimson eyes…..those are peculiar to the bloodline of the Lugnica Royal Family!"

I fucking knew it.

"It….it cannot be! The entire Royal Bloodline passed away in that incident half a year ago! How could this girl possibly be related to them!?"

"Mr. Rickert." For the first time, Reinhardt's voice had force behind it, enough to make the noble flinch from it, "Are you aware of a certain incident in the Castle some 14 years ago?"

The noble flinched once again from the implications given, "Ser Reinhardt….you can't be saying…."

"14 years ago, thieves infiltrated the Castle and abducted the daughter of the late second prince, Lord Fold. The thieves managed to escape, and the daughter was never found."

Emurdol eyed Felt once again; she truly seemed to be as young as 14 or 15 turns just by her appearance. Could Reinhardt possibly mean to that, that Felt is actually that abducted daughter during her infancy, spared from the plague that annihilated the Royal Family?

"As the matter was not written upon the Dragon Tablet, the thieves had easy access to the Royal Castle at the time. Since there were a number of other urgent matters, an all-out search for the daughter was unable to be conducted."

The head nodded, "Hmmm. That incident was the trigger for the dissolution and reconstitution of the Royal Knights. Your kinsmen were not uninvolved in this matter, I believe?"

"Thus, I have information that would be otherwise be unknown to me. And based upon this…."

"That is irrational!" Despite the evidence and possibilities, Rickert was zealous, and Emurdol did not like the sight of it. It reminded him of the Holy Knights who had tongues of fire in their twisted self-righteousness, "Are we to believe a daughter of the Royal Household vanished without a trace 14 years ago, came to live in the slums, and now you incidentally discovered her with the Royal Selection nearing!? And furthermore, you just so happened to find out that she is qualified as a Dragon Priestess!?" He laughed, "Absurd! This is all too contrived! You could easily have found a girl with Priestess qualifications and dyed her hair and used magic to alter the color of her eyes. Surely you have not engaged in such shameful behavior?"

"I swear it upon my sword." To show his sincerity, Reinhardt even laid his sheathed giant blade to the floor. A courtesy of the highest respect a knight could ever do.

Emurdol turned to face Rickert again, wondering just how in denial is this bastard. To his surprise, the noble was actually affected by Reinhardt's gesture, deflating and slouched heavily.

"With all of the Royal Family already lost, no means exist to confirm whether she has Royal Blood or not. I do not think anyone will bow their heads based on mere supposition about her identity."

"That is natural. However, I am certain that Lady Felt is worthy of the Seat of Power, even without a claim by blood."

The head eyed the Knight's conduct passively, "It would seem the Sword Saint of our generation is quite invested in her."

Rickert sighed, resigned to the determination the Knight had and turned his attention to Felt, "Setting aside your Priestess qualifications, you hail from the slums. And it is possible you possess the Royal Bloodline, presumed lost. I cannot even begin to fathom the distress this must bring you. Are you determined to see this through?"

"Huh?" However, Felt did not realize that he was testing her nor did she seem to go along with the discussion about it. "What are you talking about, old guy? I never said one thing about being King."

Emurdol gulped, tightening his grip on his crossed arms behind his back.

"I got dragged here out from the slums against my will! I told him to take me back and he wouldn't, and he hid my old clothes so I had to wear this stupid thing! I am beyond pissed! A million times pissed! I can't accept any of this! I will not!"

Everyone was struck silent, not even Rickert could make another word.

However, only one person would dare break the silence, and Emurdol's scowl finally formed on his creases, "How long shall thou entertain this tedious and pointless discussion?" Drawing attention to herself, bouncing her full bosom above her folded arms, she continued, "Even if in name only, five has't been assembl'd so the process can commence. All we needeth do is beginneth, and the unw'rthy shall be culled in due course. Aft'r all, I shalt be the last one standing. Wheth'r the excess baggage did qualify or not is completely beside the point."

Emurdol wasn't the only one affected by her imperiousness once again. Felt leapt down from the dais and glared at Priscilla. "I was thinking you were a good-looking chick, but I guess it's just a flower bed inside your head too, huh? If you wanna fight, you're on. Everyone knows that you're gonna get more than you bargained for with me."

"Such arrogance. Do you know who I am?"

If allowed, Emurdol would run over there and send a devastating slap to her smug face. See if she's still feeling high and mighty with a disfigurement.

The darkness in Priscillia's eyes beginning to become apparent, Al quickly shouted, Uh, Princess, that's not gonna help—!"

In a literal eye-blink, Reinhardt who have knelt before the dais had suddenly appeared in between the heated candidates, suffering the brunt of a strong gust of wind that cut across the chambers without the slightest flinch. "I beg your pardon, Lady Priscilla.

Emilia held the younger candidate close to her protectively, and righteous anger flared in the half-elf's amethyst eyes. "What are you thinking of doing in a hallowed place like this!?"

Priscilla simply waved her off, "I am merely teaching an untrained bitch her place. After all, impoliteness towards me can only be repaid with one's life."

Emurdol sighed. Is there no end to her?

"Won't you say you're sorry? Or do you simply not realize that you have done something wrong?"

Priscilla's face suddenly went blank before she turned to face Emilia, almost about to laugh, "One shouldst apologizeth f'r doing something wrong, saith thou? In that case, why not apologizeth for being born, silver-haired half-elf?"

Emilia's body instantly recoiled, the strength in her eyes replaced by pain. "I…I have no relationship...to the Witch….."

"Doest such an excuse mean aught to anyone? Thou art the spitting image of the taboo of the world. The v'ry sight of thee fills people with fear and maketh their hearts trembleth. Is that not why thee cov'r yourself and obscure thyself?"

Emilia's head only bowed even more, the crown of flowers managing to not slip off, overwhelmed by the assault.

Priscilla isn't wrong, she could not be. And Emurdol couldn't bear with the fact, but the bitch fails to realize that it was also done to protect herself and others. It is in no way her fault.

"Princess, can we leave it at that?" Al pleaded in his usual tone, "Adding more enemies here is seriously gonna put us in a bind, especially when one of em's the Sword Saint of all people. How 'bout you just apologize?"

"Mine own vassal shouldst not maketh such a pathetic display. And what of the Sword Saint? M'rely the supposed mightiest in the land. Handle it."

Exasperation shot across Emurdol's mind, wondering just how does she see the obvious facts.

"I wouldn't last a second…."

Just like that, his defeatist demeanor sent exasperation across Priscilla's face in turn, and then all the malice she exhumed seemed to disappear. However, no apology came nor the willingness to.

Aside from Emurdol and Viandegroc, everyone else could not conceal their shock at how the bandit-looking man could easily pacify someone as volatile as her.

After everyone has calmed down, with Felt shrugging off Emilia's assistance, disheartening the latter, and Reinhardt returning to the line, the head announced, "Then, let us proceed with our agenda. The dispute over the Royal Succession. The Council of Elders hereby proposes a meeting between all the candidates for the Royal Selection." Looking over the other Wise Men and earning their assent one by one, he continued, "I thank you for your approval. Let us begin the debate. Though the subject under discussion is who shall be King, the issue is the method of selection. It has not been decided yet. To determine this, I thought it best to first ask how the candidates are willing to go."

The Council nodding all at once, the head turned to Marcus and sent a signaling look. The Knight Captain stepped forward once again, bowing deeply on the behalf of everyone, "Then, if I may be so bold, I shall continue. I believe each candidate has a case to make. I would like all in the chamber to hear them. First, let us please begin with Lady Crusch. Ser Felix Argyle!"

Crush, the beautiful green haired woman donned in a military uniform, nodded her head and stepped forward to the dais. Felis raised a hand casually and jogged up to the candidate's side. "Yes, Ser!"

Emurdol tilted his head in question. 'Ser' Felix Argyle?

Nudging Reinhardt by his side, he openly asked him with the eldritch voice, "Why is Felix referred to as a 'Ser'?"

"Ah, so you haven't heard yet? Despite his looks, Felis is very much a male."

Emurdol's response was to be wide-eyed for a few seconds, then steadily get even more pissed off about what he did during their first meetings. No man has any right to touch him like that in any way, much less a woman he doesn't know. A gender-confused demihuman? What else could be worse?

"Oh, and despite his personality, Felis identifies himself as a male."

Oy.

Pandemonium has nothing on what this world could throw at his face. Killing things and ugly faces are far more common there than here.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Crusch Karsten, the favorite of the public, a supporter of the Royal Family since its earliest history and proven loyalty from time to time with her many deeds in the past. Such was what Emurdol gathered from Reinhardt, and he was keen on what a supporter of the Royal Family has to say if one is to take the throne.

With a clear and dignified voice, she began.

"I strive to be fully aware of what everyone expects by having me take the throne. The House of Karsten is a house that has carried great authority and political influence for many years. Should I succeed as monarch, politics and national policy are guaranteed to continue without so much as a ripple, correct?"

Many people gave their nods in response.

"I regret to dash your expectations but I can guarantee no such thing."

Silence. A stiff and disbelieving silence. Emurdol could feel the chill in the air, and it got worse when one of the nobles suddenly questioned it in a shout alongside many others.

Crusch remained unmoved and continued on, gazing upon the mural etched on the wall behind the Throne, "The Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugnica. This nation has remained prosperous by honoring the Covenant made with the Dragon long ago. Thanks to the Dragon, various crises have been averted, from war to plague and famine. The word 'Dragon' has never vanished from the Kingdom at any point through its long history."

She crossed her arms and turned her eyes to the crowd before the officials and knights.

"For the most part, prosperity brought by reaching the Covenant with the Dragon has been a good thing. If war arises, the Dragon breathes fire and burns our enemies away. If there is plague, it employs its mana to heal the people. If there is famine, it soaks the soil with Dragon's Blood and grants the blessing of bounty. And so, the guidance of the Dragon has saved us from hardship and guaranteed our glory…."

The more she portrayed about the Dragon's saving help, the more Emurdol kept thinking about the same thing over and over regarding the people of the Kingdom: Dependent Fucks.

"….Do you not think it is shameful?"

The silence became even tenser the sooner she asked. And Emurdol could see the fires of anger coming from Crusch underneath her noble and professional demeanor.

"The Covenant guarantees we will be protected from any crisis and any hardship so long as we uphold it. And so, we have descended into softness and depravity, relying now upon a change of leadership for its continuation. To think that you take this for granted."

Her voice had a noticeable bite in it from the last sentence, and one of the Wise Men stood up and exploded at her, his voice quivering in rage, "You go too far, Lady Crusch! I will not suffer anyone making light of the Covenant! Do you have any conception of the sacrifices the Kingdom has been spared from since the Covenant with the Dragon long ago? Are you denying the weight of history itself!?"

"I have already stated that this past prosperity is mostly a good thing. Even I have benefited of its blessing. The House of Karsten was born with the Kingdom and shared in its glory. Had a crisis destroyed the Kingdom, my house would have shared its fate. If the Dragon saves the Nation, it has saved my house as well."

Emurdol was now hanging on to her every word, wanting her to make the point of her statement clear.

"However, the future is a different matter. Do you think nothing of the pathetic sight you make at this moment? Have you not ceased to use your minds because you cling to the Dragon and the Covenant? When there is war, plague and famine, is there nothing we can do but sing the Dragon's praises?"

She sees it too.

"That is—"

"This nation has relied upon the writings of the Dragon Tablet for too long, becoming so soft and weak that it cannot stand on its own power. The nation takes for granted that the Dragon and prophecy will aid it whenever it is shaken. But can you argue that we have strived to avoid such matters from occurring to being with? A number of calamities in recent years, including the failure of the Great Subjugation 14 years ago, are things we courted through that weakness."

This Kingdom stagnated.

Bathed in the eyes of disbelief and anger, Crusch never faltered the tiniest bit, raising a fist and nobly declared, "If the Kingdom is to crumble without the Dragon's protection, then crumble it should. A Nation too blessed stagnates. Stagnation courts corruption. And that corruption will bring about its destruction. That's what I think."

Preach. Preach. Preach the philosophy the Order of the Serpent adheres to.

"Are….are you saying that you will destroy the Nation!?"

"No. If we cannot stand up to our own feet without the Dragon, then we must become the Dragon ourselves. Everything that the Kingdom has relied upon the Dragon until now should be borne by King, Minister, and People. Furthermore…."

Speak. Speak and tell them what it means to be a Human.

"…when I become King, I will make us forget about the Covenant with the Dragon until now. Come what may. The Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugunica belongs not to the Dragon, but to us."

For the first time, Emurdol has found someone he can truly respect for all of their strength of will and personality. Not even Emilia can match up to her.

"Hard times await us. Perhaps there will be disasters we averted in the past due to the Dragon's power, or perhaps even greater calamities. But I do not wish to live in a manner that shames my very Soul. I greatly wish for all to do the same." Her voice dropped, shaking her head and lowering her gaze, "I have long harbored doubts about the state of the Kingdom. I believe that this course of events is a Heaven-sent opportunity to make things right."

Emurdol looked around the nobles, and to his great satisfaction despite not being affiliated to her, no one had the balls to say anything against her argument. All boiling down to the fact that no one can deny everything she said.

The head hummed again, "Hmmm. We understand Lady Crusch's point of view. Now then, Ser Felix Argyle, is there anything you wish to add?"

"Thank you for asking, but I have nothing further to add. Lady Crusch's thoughts are exactly as she says. And history will prove that Lady Crusch's actions are correct. I have no doubt whatsoever that it is my Master who shall become King."

In all honesty, Emurdol was very willing to see how she would hold up to her words as a candidate for the Seat of Power.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

"Then, let us continue, following with the next in line beside Lady Crusch."

The woman's arrogant mien shined more than ever, stepping forward with all confidence. "It is Hyper Priscilla Time."

Emurdol was taken aback by such a foreign phrase that only the lower class in Pandemonium would indulge in.

Al walked over and stood by her side on the dais, giving her a thumbs up, "Yeah. Nice use, Princess. Nailed that one really good."

Marcus bowed with a hand to his chest, "Very well, Lady Priscilla Barielle, if you please…"

"Though it pains me, I shalt humor thee. I needeth only demonstrateth mine own majesty to the fusty fossils and establisheth that they needeth only to obeyeth me, aye? A simple matt'r."

Not just Emurdol, but every other noble in the chambers seethed in resentment against her. If such emotions could be measured by the glow of one's eye, then any Necromagi present in the room will blind everyone.

"The Bloody Bride. What gall." Crusch commented with an audible bite.

With a fan that was drawn out of her cleavage and spread out to cover her mouth, she began with a thoroughly wearied voice, "Such boring insignificant jeers. I am so accustom'd to such that it doth not even serve as a lullaby."

The head interrupted inquisitively, "This has been on my mind since well before. Barielle….as in Ser Lyp Barielle? Hmmm, now that I think of it, where has Ser Lyp been?"

"That lecherous old man suddenly wenteth senile half a year ago. That man did remain unable to diff'rentiate dream and reality, and hath passed hence but a few days aft'r."

The head was intrigued over the news, "Hmmm, Lady Priscilla. What does that make your relationship to Ser Lyp?"

"I supposeth it maketh me his widow. That man hadst not did touch me with so much of a fingertip, so our relationship is in name alone, quite literally."

Al spoke up, "Uh, Princess, ain't that a little harsh?"

She ignored her vassal without a thought, "A meaningless death to endeth a w'rthless life. If that fossil's life hadst any significance whatsoev'r, 'tis that I inherited his entire estate. Accordingly, the House of Barielle is mineth."

Emurdol suspected foul play, and likely a few others thought the same. However, no one tried anything to object. Not even Rickert.

The head replied to her, "Hmmm, I understand. I regret to hear of Ser Lyp's passing, as he has been an acquaintance for many years, but it is clear that your claim is on firm ground, Lady Priscilla."

"Obviously." Without respect but with pure arrogance, she replied to him with a nod. Not even Emurdol would go that far, especially when the Wise Man has been nothing but courteous and polite the whole time.

Unaffected, the head turned to Al, "Then I would like to press for further details, does the Knight beside you have anything to add?"

While he was speaking, Al was yawning inside his helmet. If the decorum of idiots is anything to go by, such an action in a place and occasion like this would be considered rude. "Aaahhaaa, me?"

The antagonistic gazes were aimed straight to him.

"Yes, you. Your attire is highly unusual. I have not seen you among the Royal Knights ….and your helm?"

"Oh, you can tell?" He tapped his helm with his fingernail, "Yeah, it's from Vollachia down south. Was a lotta trouble gettin' outta there. Tough too so it took me quite a while. Plus, it looks cool so it's a keeper."

"Vollachia Empire?" Emurdol suspected the name to be a foreign Nation, and likely one that this Kingdom didn't have any good relations with, given by the head's averse reaction as well as a few others among the Nobles, "Then, you are not assigned to the Royal Knights."

"Nope. Not at all. Also, I've cut all my ties to Vollachia. Now I'm just a wanderer, goin' with the flow. Oh, and uh, could ya call me Al? Also, you look a little upset that I'm not showin' my face here….well, can you give me a break on that?"

No sense of formality in anyway, along with a few statements that would come off as rude to the eyes of a typical noble, the glares on him grew even sharper. Al slipped his hand under the chin of his helmet and lifted it up, revealing all of his many scars, made from blades, burns, and likely many more.

Someone from the crowd yelped at the sight of it.

"See? It's a really sorry sight. So I'd like you to understand why I'm wearing it in front of everybody."

The Knight Captain spoke up, "This may be an even greater discourtesy. If you hail from Vollachia with such wounds, were you a Sword Slave by any chance?"

Emurdol wondered about the meaning behind the term. Gladiator, perhaps?

"Yeah, that's the one." Al snapped his fingers and pointed a pistol finger at him, "That's the Cap'n for ya. The Empire likes to keep its secrets but you'll get a thing or two about the shady parts of it. Yessir, I was a Sword Slave, spent like 10 years as one so I'm like a veteran now. Messed up when I was young, though. Lost an arm in the process."

Murmurs occurred on the nobles and from the knights as well. If anything, Emurdol was impressed at Al's feat. If Sword Slave actually translates to Gladiator, surviving 10 years in such a profession deserves recognition. He might be a greater warrior than he came out as back in that carriage. He is also a human from the Old World too.

Coming to this plane of existence truly did not end well for Al. He was not as skilled or battle-hardened as the Necromagus and had to struggle in order to survive it. Consequently, Emurdol lost a hand on the first day in this world.

Emurdol smirked. Apparently, they are much more alike than he thought.

The head spoke again, "Hmmm. Hailing from the Empire of Vollachia…is that why you came to stand at Lady Priscilla's side?"

The latter replied to him, "Not at all. 'Tis the result of a dram game of mine. From the beginning, mine own becoming king was as sure as divine providence. The result shall be the same regardless of mine own vassal. And so, I am free to selecteth the vassal I deem fit to serveth me. I hath caught sight of him in a bodybuilding contest I did hold on mine own estate, with the winner to be off'r'd the privilege of being mine own vassal. T'was an amusing sight."

"I see. So he was a winner of that contest, I ta—"

"Naaaah." Al interrupted him, holding up a hand. "I didn't win it. I was a one-armed guy against a buncha bulky bodybuilders. I mean, I was lucky to make it to the top 5."

"Oh? Then how did you come to be Lady Priscilla's vassal?"

Priscilla slapped Al's back, making him yelp out loud as she answered in his place, "I has't already toldeth thee. I picketh whoev'r I please. To begin with, mine own keen eyes did allow me to disc'rn that he is a physical wond'r, far more than a collection of dim-witted louts ov'rconfident in their muscle-bound arms. And more than that, only he boast an escapeth from Vollachia and a birth beyond the Great Waterfall."

Emurdol was surprised that this woman would expose something like that so nonchalantly. Al didn't seem bothered by it too.

"And so, I did select Al to be mine own vassal. 'Tis providence that mine own selection of Al, and mine own path to becometh king, shalt both shineth in acc'rdance with mine own glory."

That tone of hers was familiar, just like it had yesterday. She completely believes everything she's saying. If she could outmatch Greed in terms of Arrogance, she now can.

"You're saying that…Heaven chose you…?" Even the head took time to comprehend her.

"But of course. Aft'r all, nothing happeneth in this world that doest not benefit me. Furth'rm're, 'tis I who is worthy of becoming King and none oth'r. Thee needeth only boweth bef're me and s'rve."

Her audacity was so overwhelming that everyone gaped at it.

Only Al was the one who is completely unaffected, "Princess, Tell 'em your basis on that."

"Very well. 'Tis very simple. S'rving me means siding with the winn'r. Thee may has't aught thee desire; I'll alloweth. But I shalt not permit thee to s'rve anyone else. That is all"

With a brush of her hair back, she turned her back on the Council and walked back to her spot on the line of candidates, leaving everyone still dumbstruck. Al added, "I know how it sounds bad but she's not lying. If she wants something, she'll get it. Cuz Heaven itself actually chose Lady Priscilla. Surely you heard of what gramps—sorry, Ser Lyp's lands has bounced back lately."

The Knight Captain, who was addressed, answered, "We have confirmed this for ourselves. Following the passing of Lord Lyp Barielle, Lady Priscilla took control of policy within his lands, which resulted in the region's unprecedented prosperity."

"That's right. But don't take it like we're workin' hard for everyone else's sake, alright? Princess's guesses are always correct. She's just right about everything; no ifs, no ands, no buts either." He held up a finger, "If you're under Princess, you can do whatever you want. If you're gonna bet on the winning horse, gotta do it sooner than later."

And then he went back to the line of Knights, right next to Emurdol. The latter's impression of him has changed completely.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

With the tension in the air now relaxed thanks to Priscilla no longer taking the stage, the Knight Captain announced, "Next is Lady Anastasia and her Knight, Ser Julius Euclius. Step forward!"

The tiny girl of a candidate elegantly stepped forward, followed by the purple-haired knight.

Emurdol couldn't help but feel unsettled that there are two entities residing in the equally purple-haired woman, as if there were two living beings inside her one body. But it's unlikely anyone else besides him noticed it.

With a warm smile, Anastasia began, "If ya'll expect me to be so intense like the rest, I'm in a bit of a bind. I doubt you'd want me to come on strong, so my kinda gimmick is that I got none."

Emurdol was a bit off-put by her intonation and diction because of that accent she has. Nonetheless, her warm demeanor calmed the atmosphere of the chambers.

"Now then, I, Anastasia Hoshin, will speak for a spell. I hope ya'll forgive my indiscretions and all, since I'm an outsider."

Julius stroked the front of his hair, almost unnecessarily, as if he was drawing attention to himself. Emurdol's opinion of him is dropping even lower. "I am Lady Anastasia's Knight, Julius Euclius. Please be gentle with her."

The head spoke, "With that accent, I assume you are a native of Kararagi, then?"

"That's right. Born a baby girl in the lowest class of good ol' Kararagi in the League of Free Trading Cities."

Low class? She's born a commoner? Emurdol wondered idly about that.

The head's eyes narrowed slightly, "Hmmm, the Lowest Class. Then, what is your connection to Lugnica?"

"I was born in the lowest of the low, but now I got a real mansion in the city. I have stores in other cities…that's how I imposed on Lugnica."

Julius added, "She serves as chairwoman of the Hoshin Company, the most influential company in Kararagi. For many years, this position in her nation was occupied by the Lushika Industrial Company, but thanks to Lady Anastasia's commercial genius, it was reconstituted under a new name, which, of course, is Hoshin Company."

Emurdol soundlessly hummed in interest. So a lowly commoner that rose to riches.

Julius continued as Anastasia blushed a little, "Accompanying its vast expansion across Kararagi, there was talk of expansion into Lugnica as well. That was the impetus for my meeting Lady Anastasia for the very first time."

The head replied, "Hmmm. So in spite of humble beginnings, she established herself as a brilliant young merchant. I must say, this certainly reminds me of the founder of Kararagi itself."

Emurdol guessed that the founder was born the same way, from nothing to everything. A show of the wonderful power Humans are capable of.

Anastasia clapped her hands happily at the head's mention, "That's right! I always looked up to that man, Hoshin of the Wastes. When it was time to establish my surname as a li'l merchant, I decided to adopt the name of Hoshin in his honor."

The head nodded in praise, "Hoshin is the name of a great man known across the entire continent, revered from ancient times to the present. To name yourself after him….such a splendid display."

Julius remarked, "Lady Anastasia's commercial genius is a divine gift. It is no exaggeration that she rivals Hoshin himself. My own lack of ability in this area leaves me envious of her."

The head drew another nod, "My, my. She must be quite something indeed for the Finest of Knights to boast of her so."

Emurdol nudged Reinhardt again, not needing to say anything regarding the inquiry in his mind.

Without a missing beat, the Knight replied, "Among the Royal Knights of the Kingdom of Lugnica, Julius is second only to Captain Marcus. There is a position of vice-captain but it's a vacant template. When it comes to sword skill, mana employment, pedigree, and exploits, Julius fulfills all the qualifications of a Knight and is second to none. He is undoubtedly worthy of the title of Finest of Knights."

Emurdol silently hummed again, finding interest in challenging the man someday just to see how he lives up to the title, "It's different compared to you, who is a Knight among Knights?"

"Yes, indeed. In terms of strength with the sword, I am far superior. I am yet to find anyone stronger than me."

Emurdol admired his tone that was factual instead of boasting, but he strangely found envy in the Knight's sky blue eyes, finding it far too foreign for someone like him to wear.

The head continued, "Lady Anastasia, as you are a native of Kararagi, what is your purpose in striving to be King?"

Someone from a different Nation racing for the Seat of Power from another Nation? It's bound to draw the question.

Anastasia only smiled wryly, "Ya'll have such high expectations, it's makin' me nervous. Sadly, I ain't grand like Miss Crusch or confident like Miss Priscilla here. However, there is one thing I can say that comes with my goal. You see, I'm actually a li'l greedier than others."

Emurdol's cheeks went taught at her declaration.

"Since I was teeny-tiny, I'm a lot greedier than by normal standards. As a li'l maid at the first li'l company I worked for, I made a couple suggestions to the owner and they became big hits. So, I got into the bigger and fatter deals. Soon, I was livin' so large I completely forgot how poor I once was. Thought I was goin' to feel relieved, but I only felt a lot poorer than before."

That is Greed. Emurdol rarely ever saw the raw form of the sin in Pandemonium among humans.

The head asked, "And why is that?"

"That was the scary part about it. The more you have, the more you want. 'I want that', 'I want this'. It ain't enough. It's never gonna be enough, and that's when I realized it." She grinned and pointed at the ground. The very Castle itself. "I'm greedy, so I want anythin' around. But I ain't satisfied yet. I don't know what real fulfillment reels like, so I want a country of my own."

Immediately, Emurdol's list of dislikes has found another newcomer besides Priscilla.

"You want this Kingdom….to satisfy your greed?"

The smile on Anastasia's face became robust as she responded to the head's inquiry, "That's right. If it's gonna smash my popularity, smash away! I'll have my fill and be totally satisfied like a li'l princess." She's open about it too. Another unusual quality he found coming from a human, "If gettin' my hands on the Kingdom isn't enough, I'll just use the country as a steppin' stone to get even more."

Emurdol wonders just how will she even win the Seat of Power in the first place with that sort of attitude.

"What would become of the Kingdom if you will not even deem it fit to fulfill your greed?"

"I told ya, didn't I? I'm super greedy. So once somethin's mine, it's always mine. If I get even more grabby, I'll use whatever I have to satisfy it. My life in Kararagi, the Hoshin Company, and all the people who work there, they're all part of my drive for fulfillment. I would never throw them away. So, how about ya'll stay calm and be mine?"

And she concluded with a very warm smile on her face.

The crowd was silent, taken by her speech. The head addressed Julius, "I see. Do you have anything you would like to add, Ser Julius?"

The Finest of Knights stepped up, indicating to his Lady with a hand, "Lady Anastasia referred to it as Greed but in a different point of view, especially in a business one, she is able to make any decision without emotional involvement, an indispensable quality in a statesman."

The head nodded in agreement to his words. At that, Emurdol allowed himself to open up and see just what point is he making.

"Furthermore, as I stated earlier, Lady Anastasia is a brilliant businesswoman, something this Kingdom desperately needs at this hour. Repeated clashes with neighboring Nations—especially, skirmishes with the Empire of Vollachia, have drained our coffers. With the famine from last year, the finances of the Kingdom are in a precarious position."

Many faces went red amongst the nobles and even a few of the Wise Men. Emurdol openly smirked at the reaction of the Kingdom's negatives being exposed.

The head said, "I believe such details ought to be not so lightly divulged in a public place, Ser Julius."

"The importance of financial reconstruction to the nation has been common knowledge for decades now. I do not see the reason to hide this from those assembled here. Do you not think that the very reason the affairs of the Nation have stagnated is because we have averted our eyes from this difficult financial state for so long?"

"So a mere Knight speaks to us about political affairs beyond his purview…?"

Emurdol scoffed at the head's addressing of Julius' audacity. The Knight was making a fair point. In the Order of the Serpent, though only the wisest have the final say, even a newly ordained Priest or Priestess' word would be heeded and considered. Doing otherwise would limit the amount of solutions necessary to resolve concerns that arise.

Emurdol was a witness to more than a few establishments falling to the ground because of such practices of selective hearing.

Typical idiots.

"That is correct. These affairs will affect the House of Euclius very little. Even if we avert our eyes, it will surely be nothing irreversible for my generation. However, even if my house remains unscathed, I cannot ignore the matter of the Throne I serve with my body and soul falling into distress."

Exactly. Emurdol subtly nodded at that.

While the veins bulged from the foreheads of the Wise Men, Julius turned to Anastasia, "However, the Hoshin Company has connected us to the extreme prosperity joined in Kararagi, bringing a fresh wind to Lugnica. I have seen for myself that Lady Anastasia is worthy to be King if we continue along this path. What can you call this, if not fate?"

Julius was becoming invigorated, his voice rising in tenor and his words quickening.

"If Heavens chooses the King, then it has chosen Lady Anastasia. And I, devoted to the Royal Family, having pledged my loyalty to the Kingdom, hereby declare that Lady Anastasia is worthy of the Seat of Power. I thank you for lending me your ears."

He appeared to be more of a performer than knight during his speech, even captivated more than a few people from both knights and nobles.

The Knight Captain remained stoic as always, asking simply, "Will that be all, Ser Julius?"

Julius nodded to him, "Yes, thank you very much." He returned to Anastasia's side, "You were marvelous, Lady Anastasia. A place such as this is where you truly bloom as a flower sowed by Heaven."

"Aw, shucks! You spoil me so much!" Red-faced, Anastasia fanned herself awkwardly as she stepped down to the line of candidates with him, "You didn't need to say all of that, now I'm all embarrassed."

As Julius returned to the line and a short silence followed afterwards, the Knight Captain followed up to the next one. "Then, the next candidate, Lady Emilia."

"Yes."

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

This time, Emurdol truly felt the pressure weigh down directly to his heart, as if he was the one being called on. Outwardly, his body betrayed none of this, but he was now truly holding his breath. Viandegroc, frozen like a rock ever since Crusch's speech, was starting to shift lightly, unnecessarily adjusting his kitty mask.

They watched as Emilia stepped up to the dais, her body language straining for the slightest second before stepping up to it.

Whispers arose amongst the nobles, and Emurdol cannot miss one consistent word being repeated from one official to another: half-demon.

"It's alright, Emurdol. Do not worry." Reinhardt soothed, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Emurdol turned a glowing green glare towards him, a result of what he kept hearing from the nobles.

"Foul words are overcome by seeing a person's true qualities before your eyes, especially if they are noble and pure of heart. Believe in Lady Emilia."

Emurdol already knew that, but it was still annoying to have it advised to him. He will not stand for anyone badmouthing an innocent girl, especially his friend.

With Roswaal now beside Emilia, having no Knight to speak of, the Knight Captain bowed his head with a weighty look, "Then, Lady Emilia and Lord Roswaal L. Mathers, if you please…"

Despite the formality of the occasion, Roswaal never changed, "Yes, yeeees. But stiiiill, following in the steps of all these mighty knights, I feel so teeerribly out of place. Am I?"

He nudged the question to Emilia, probably to lighten her nerves, but he received no response from her, tense as she is.

Then, she took a deep breath and began, with a voice as clear as a bell.

"Members of the Council of Elders, it is my pleasure to meet you for the very first time. My name is Emilia. I have no family name. So please, simply refer to me as Emilia."

No quiver, no anxiety, no fear—only resolution, all the way to her amethyst eyes.

Emurdol felt all of his worries go away and inwardly applauded her just for that. He figured her to be unfamiliar in a grand audience like this, but she took to it very easily. There's hope.

Roswaal followed after, "And I am the humble man nominating Lady Emilia, Roswaal L. Mathers, bearing the rank of Margrave. We are grateful for the Council of Elders' valuable time."

So even he knows how to be formal. Emurdol rarely ever heard him talk like this for the past few weeks, especially when he lacked the usual drawl.

The head stroked his long white beard, "Hmmm, so she is nominated, not by the Royal Guard, but by the Court Magician. I would very much like to hear the details of why this is so." Turning to Roswaal, he said, "Please provide us details about the candidate, Lady Emilia, including her lineage."

Emurdol gulped.

"Understood. Firstly, though I believe all present are well aware, I shall begin with the circumstances of Lady Emilia's biiirth. As you can see from her lovely silver hair, her skin so pale one can nearly see through her, violet eyes like the gems of amethyst that seem to capture the very soul, and her voice, like a silver bell, one echoing unforgettably in ones ears, even in their dreams. As you well know, these enchanting qualities are proof that elven blood flows through Lady Emilia's veins."

The bald and stocky-framed Wise Man interrupted, "And the other half of her blood is human. In other words, she is a half-elf?"

He said that like its venom, especially when a vein bulged in his forehead and the hatred in his eyes could not be hidden.

"How dare you. Have you no shame, bringing this silver-haired half-demon filth before the Royal Throne?"

The head turned to him, "Ser Bordeaux, your words go too far."

"Ser Miklotov, do you not understand!? A silver-haired half-demon with an appearance matching the Witch of Envy as handed down by the old tales! She once consumed half the world! She leads all living things to despair, chaos, and annihilation! Do not claim ignorance!"

The head said nothing.

"How much do you think her appearance and lineage alone makes others tremble? You ask us to place such a being on the Royal Throne? Inconceivable. Even the commoners of other Nations would call us a collection of madmen, to say nothing of the people of the Dragonfriend Kingdom of Lugnica! The Nation where the Witch sleeps!"

And he ended it with a stomp, his arms spread wide during his tirade.

Amidst Bordeaux's rant, a pair of green lights lit up behind a curtain of white.

Under the chilling atmosphere, Roswaal asked, "Are you dooone, Master Bodeaux?"

"If you ask whether that is all I have to say, then I have not said nearly enough. Do you even comprehend what you have done, High Sorcerer of the Court?"

Roswaal was not going to be swayed by his attempt of cowing him to submission, "I understand veeery much. Master Bordeaux expresses that the reaction of the populace upon seeing Lady Emilia would be of conceeern, yes?"

He raised up a finger.

"Hooooowever, perhaps you have forgotten, Master Bodeaux? The issue of which you speak of has no beeeaaaring upon the Royal Selection whatsoever."

In Felix's and Julius' line of sight, they watched the robed bald man that accompanied Emurdol reach up to his face with his left hand and remove his mask.

Alongside the other Knights, they watched as bloody red hair began growing out of the scalp.

"…..What do you mean?"

Roswaal lowered his voice as he faced the Wise Men, "If I may, it is preciiisely as Lady Priscilla stated at the beginning. Even if as a mere formality, there are fiiiiive candidates, so the Royal Selection may begin. And if it begins, one need merely see it through, yeeees?"

The head, Miklotov, began narrowing his eyes, "Hmmm, in other words, you are saying that what is important is that the Dragon Jewel chose Lady Emilia…..and that her actual suitability to succeed as monarch is…irrelevant?"

When a silky waterfall of blood flowed to the floors of the chambers, the person bearing such hair having grown a few inches taller in height than everyone in the room, the other hand suddenly held an ornate pipe with Bull symbols across its base and took it to the lips.

While the Knights were distracted from the conversation by the arrival of Gluttony, the pair of green lights behind the white curtain were about to blaze.

"Though it might be a cruuuude way to put it, think of her as a stalking horse. Lady Emilia's appearance is veeery particular. Virtually no human being can look at her and not think of the Witch of Envy. She is easily employed as a pawn upon our chessboard."

In other words, Roswaal did not have any faith to Emilia succeeding the throne at all.

He was just making things go with the flow.

All of the effort Emilia has done to make sure she will have greater chances in even succeeding, something multiple members of the Necromagi family down to the Souls in Emurdol's wand have witnessed more than a dozen occasions for the past couple weeks, was heartlessly trampled on by Roswaal, her backer and sponsor.

There was the unheard sound of a pipe's contents being inhaled from full lips, and a couple of gnashing teeth subtly filling the air.

Next to Reinhardt, the sound of bones cracking emanated from the cloaked man right beside him.

Bordeaux asked, "So the Royal Selection between five candidates is actually between four?"

"Do you not think that reducing the oooooptions reduces the possibility of dissolution? The current lack of a King invites other Nations to intervene in our internal affairs. Should we not prepare countermeasures to diminiiiiish this threat?"

Bordeaux as well as the other Wise Men were nodding in agreement to Roswaal's words.

As Sally lowered her pipe down to her chest, Emurdol unraveled his armored hands from its crossed interlocked place behind his back.

And it happened.

The ear-splitting screams of the Demon of Gluttony and the abominable roars of the Afterlife, accompanied by the sudden arrival of a green cloud and a black blur streaking from the ceiling and descending down on Roswaal.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!‼!‼!‼‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!"

The silence came when the sound of neck bones and a jaw let out an audible snap.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

In the interior of an eatery within the districts of the Middle Class, a commotion suddenly erupted.

Meili suddenly collapsed to the ground, dropping her tray of burgers and drinks, shattering the plates and glasses as she curled inwardly, painfully, letting out horrible rasps and growls as she clawed at her own neck, her legs kicking uncontrollably and snapping the leg of a nearby table.

"Meili!" Rem leapt up from her chair, knocking it to the floor as she lithely slipped through the panicking people in the way and knelt before the convulsing child.

"He-hey, what the hell is happening!?" Raeburn completely forgot about the half-eaten burger in his hand, dropping it on the table and running over to the child as well.

Zakurah didn't have the time to gawk, only shoving aside the people in the way, almost sending them to the wall, as she gathered around Meili's form alongside his friend and the Maid. "Rem, what's going on!? What's happening to her!? Is she choking!?"

"I-I don't know! I mean, I don't think so!" Rem's composed face was nowhere to be seen, overpowered by fear, panic and concern as she tried to hold back the child's hands from creating anymore lacerations on her neck. "I have never seen her do this before!"

"Do something!" Raeburn shouted, the concern coming from all over his form, from body language to facial features, "We have to stop it! Whatever the hell is doing this to her!

"Curse. Is she cursed?" Zakurah asked, keeping her voice composed, "Can you tell if it's a curse!?"

"I don't know either!" Tears were flowing down Rem's eyes, her hands straining against the powerful strength of the child's arms as she kept reaching for her neck and mouth. "I don't feel anything wrong with her!"

"Give us space, people!" Raeburn shouted to those who were circling them very closely, standing up and waving them away, "This ain't a fucking circus! Call a healer or somebody! NOW!"

"I-I shall!"

"I'll come with you!"

A pair of boys quickly ran out the door, knocking over chairs and bumping against tables in their frantic sprint before they were out the door, hollering for the nearest healer.

Zakurah laid her gauntleted hand on the struggling child's forehead, trying to get a read on what is actually happening. To her shock, she's seeing nothing. Not even a possession. It was as if she was watching a table fall apart for no reason. It's just happening.

Not giving up, she removed her rosary off her neck and put it in-between her hands, shouting to her friend, "Raeburn! Hold her legs!"

"Right!" The man quickly fell to his knees and held them down by the ankles quite easily, attesting to his hidden strength underneath his easily forgettable average features. "Fucking hell, this kid's strong….!"

Knelt on both knees, her rosary in between her armored hands, she began muttering a language that only Raeburn could recognize as Latin, a brilliant glow shining from her whitesteel armor.

Just as suddenly as the phenomena happened, Meili's body went still, her olive green eyes stained red with the blood flowing from her sockets, and her mouth began opening and closing, her pointy teeth making loud snapping sounds in the stiff silence.

The people around them held their breath, wondering if the Lady Knight's magic had actually done something to ease the poor child's suffering.

What they didn't realize, not even Rem, was that Zakurah had nothing to do with her sudden stillness in any way nor anything in this establishment with her sudden condition.

When it seemed that all was starting to look stable, a deep screech so loud it shook the ground and anything that wasn't nailed down exploded out of the child's mouth, deafening everyone nearby, especially the three of them.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!‼!‼!‼‼!‼!‼!‼!‼!"

Without warning, her eyes became clouded in an endless depth of darkness, taking away all white and green before her form became next, suddenly becoming shrouded in an untouchable liquid-like substance of inky black from head to toe, leaving nothing of her to be seen except an imperceptible and light-eating black. Rem suddenly lost the solid sensation of Meili's wrists, Raeburn on her ankles, and the apparition slickly passed by Zakurah's form like air and out of the establishment, flying straight towards the roof.

"Meili!" Rem quickly took off after her, bursting out of the establishment with her horn now protruding out of her head and jumped straight up to the roof of the building across the street.

"Come on!" Raeburn urged Zakurah, running over to the black and red Liger that had been dozing a few paces outside the eatery only to be forced awake from the commotion that happened before its master jumped onto the saddle strapped to its back. "Hurry!"

"I'm hurrying!" The Holy Knight took no time in running after her friend, her whitesteel armor giving her no trouble in catching up to his speedy pace and slickly jumped on the saddle, seated behind her friend and wrapping one hand around his waist to hold on. "Go!"

"Hiya!" Cracking the reins, looking straight up to where the Maid was last seen. He commanded, "After 'em, Tank!"

With a vicious bark, the Liger leapt towards the building's walls across the street and bounced straight towards the edge of the roof before easily pulling itself and its two passengers to the flat surface.

The black shroud bouncing from rooftop to rooftop and the maid chasing after it in sight, Tank utilized its martially-trained body to catch up, almost about to outpace the speed of the wind itself.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

The Knights stood a safe distance away from the tall blood-haired woman holding a pipe in one hand while the other held her mask against her chest, her face showing a complete lack of concern for the many swords that were aimed her way and instead expressed tedium through her lightless dark blue eyes. Her vapors surrounded her form and hovered above her head like a mist and a thundercloud protectively and threateningly, a second mouth showing on the crook on her neck, gaping widely and angling its teeth to multiple directions like viper fangs.

The rest of the Knights far away from Gluttony's distance as well as the majority of the nobles gawked in disbelieving shock at what was found a few steps away from the double doors of the Throne Room.

Emilia's face was clouded in shock, but Reinhardt's distress overpowered even hers. He had every Divine Blessing possible to know, avoid, and divert any attack before they even happened, even if he only saw them once.

And he did not see Emurdol's attack on Roswaal coming. Which could only mean that it was not an attack but something else entirely. However, such concerns are not relevant in this very moment.

It was fixed solely on the cloaked man.

Emurdol's body was bent fully backwards at the waist, curved towards the floors like a C and his arms hung limply like tassels, everything else below the belt showing nothing but 8 spider legs that seemed to be made out of black bone protruding from the gaps of his leg drapes.

After several moments spent looking at his form in horror, his body suddenly became mobile, the sound of bones rattling inside his body emanating with every movement, his upper body leaning forwards, about to stand up straight, only to bend forward by the waist again, his multiple legs preventing him from hitting the ground entirely.

A chorus of shocked screams and yelps erupted from the crowd due to what was looking back at them, the Knights taking more than a couple steps back at what they are seeing.

Emurdol's face was looking back at everyone, his white hair hung upside down from the gravity that it was about to touch the floor, and his jaw had been completely detached from his skull inside his face.

Among the candidates, only Felt, Emilia, and Anastasia took a step back from the gruesome sight, their eyes wide with shock or fright as they covered their mouths. Only Crusch and Priscilla held their ground, the former having drawn her sword while the latter watched with keen eyes, her fan covering her mouth.

Movement arrived once again, Emurdol's upper body rising upwards, and this time, it held itself upright, and the back of his head was facing everyone.

With his elbows bending in unnatural directions, the sound of bones continuing to crackle in the stiff air, he reached up to hold his head, clawing at each side, and he forcefully twisted his head back to its original angle, a bone-chilling sound his neck made that more than most nobles flinched from it, his disfigured face now meeting everyone's wide-eyed stares.

His nose bleeding, his green eyes flaring so brightly that they nearly splotched out his face merely by its light and threatening to blind anyone who would stare back at them, his hands reached up to his dislocated jaw, gripping it firmly with two hands and, with a wet snapping sound and a push, aligned it correctly against his skull. The damages done by Roswaal's kick that blew him back to the other side of the room mended.

Angling his mouth once in a circle, testing its condition, sharp teeth bared themselves out of it and he soundlessly hissed, his hair floating as if underwater.

"Truly amazing, Ser Emurdol." Roswaal leered back at him, his mismatched eyes coldly gazing back at the Necromagus' burning glare, "You truly exceed the limits of a human, as if you never were one."

A reply came, and it resounded inside everybody's heads, a demonic growl that only the most horrifying demons of Hell in Pandemonium could ever make. Emurdol rose to a taller height, his black skeletal legs extending even more while a thick cloud of a pure all-encompassing and light-eating black fumed out of them, his arms spread apart and brimming with all of his dark energies while the giant aura of a haunting green blazed all over his form, the images of wailing faces in them visible to everyone.

And the bloodcurdling, shrill, whistling. The dreadful whistling which could not be drowned out even if one plugged their ears.

The light of the chambers was starting to dim, receding, from the nearby walls to the highest point at the ceiling, turning day into twilight, as if it was afraid of the Necromagus, attempting to run away from his immeasurable rage.

Emilia had a sense of déjà vu, remembering this eldritch phenomena happening once. A month ago, during Emurdol's first day in the Mansion.

"Once again, you are making quite a show of yourself. But this time, this will inevitably cost you your life."

The growl intensified at Roswaal's frigid words.

"If you desist this moment and apologize, I will allow you to simply leave. But if you insist on having this battle….."

The incredible amounts of mana that was brewing in the Lord's hand materialized into heat, flame, and cinder—forming into a gigantic ball of fire that pushed back the encroaching darkness with its great blazing light like a second Sun.

"….then we will finally see the conclusion of what we should have finished a month ago!"

Emurdol pitched his head back, screaming to the ceiling, and everyone thought they were about to be rendered deaf by the mountain-breaking roar in their minds.

And came the dreaded signs.

The Darkness that consumed all of Light.

The cacophony of Screams: The cries of infants; the yells of children; the shrieks of women; the shouts of men; the screeches of the elderly.

And the Trembling that promised to shatter the world apart.

And amidst all of these horrors, Emilia's purged memories that existed a month ago finally returned to her consciousness.

The first she remembered, was the End of the World.