New Idea

Author Note: Yo, new chapter here!

JtBlack-Hawk3198: This isn't our earth we are talking about. These people can heal injuries that are deadly in a minute. Besides, it doesn't take genius to figure out who is crazy and who isn't, like how everybody calls me crazy and they are correct… (but that's besides the point!)

So, they are quite modern— in their own way.

Now, enjoy.

Û~Û

Subaru paced the length of the luxurious inn room, her boots clicking against the polished wooden floor. The thick velvet curtains were drawn, blocking out the warm afternoon light, but it wasn't like the oppressive tension inside needed any help growing darker. Roswaal lounged in an armchair by the window, a glass of wine in his hand, his mismatched eyes twinkling with amusement. Puck hovered nearby, his little paws crossed and his expression unusually serious.

"They think I'm crazy," Subaru muttered, throwing her hands in the air. "Do you hear that? Crazy! Like I'm some lunatic running around in my boxers yelling, 'Critical hit!' at 2 a.m. That's… uh… actually what my neighbours used to think back home." She froze mid-step, realising she'd said too much, and shot a sheepish glance at Puck and Roswaal. "Ahem. You didn't hear that."

"Oh, we did," Roswaal chimed, swirling his wine as his lips curled into a grin. "But don't worry, deeearest Emilia. Whatever that maaaay mean, it's entirely irrelevant now." He leaned forward, his painted smile sharpening. "Our main concern is how to prove to the cooouncil that you are entirely saaane!"

"Which I ain't," Subaru replied flatly, flopping onto the couch and throwing an arm over her face.

"Which she isn't," Puck echoed, his voice tinged with worry as he floated closer to her. He perched on the backrest, his small body radiating warmth despite the chill in the room. "But we know you're not crazy, Lia. You're just… you."

"Well, that's comforting," Subaru muttered. She sat up, rubbing her temples. "Okay, okay. Let's brainstorm. What's something simple, sweet, and normal that'll make them think I'm the perfect ruler material?"

"A pie-baking contest?" Puck suggested half-heartedly.

"I was thinking more along the lines of charity work or giving an inspirational speech," Subaru countered. "But this world is so complicated. I mean, you can't just bake pies for goodwill, right? No, there's got to be magic pies or cursed apples or some ancient prophecy about a legendary oven."

Roswaal chuckled, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "I'm afraid you'll have to aim a biiit higher than pies, my dear. The cooouncil requires proof of three key things."

"Which are?" Subaru asked, raising a brow.

"First, your saaaanity." He ticked the point off on a long, pale finger. "Second, your quaaalities as a leader. And third…" He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening. "Your daaaaringness."

Subaru blinked at him. "So basically, you want me to be sane, bossy, and reckless. Great. What's next? Juggling fireballs while singing the national anthem?"

"Do something that fulfills all three in one go," Roswaal suggested, his tone light but his gaze piercing.

"Like what?" Subaru leaned forward, her interest reluctantly piqued.

Roswaal's grin turned sharp, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Defeating an Archbishop."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. Subaru felt her stomach plummet, the weight of the suggestion pressing down on her chest like a leaden chain. "Uh, defeating a what now?"

"No," Puck snapped, his voice unusually stern. His fur bristled, and his small frame seemed to radiate anger. "Absolutely not. I won't let you put Lia in that kind of danger!"

"Wait, wait!" Subaru held up her hands, her curiosity overriding her fear. "What's an Archbishop? I mean, it sounds fancy. Are they some Akatsuki group…eh, criminal group or something?"

Puck floated down, his gaze dark and serious. "Lia… an Archbishop isn't someone you 'defeat.' They're monsters in human skin. Leaders of the Witch Cult. And the Witch Cult…" He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "They're a fanatical group devoted to the Witch of Envy. They'll stop at nothing to spread chaos and destruction in her name."

Subaru swallowed hard, her mind racing. "Okay. So they're bad news. Got it. But how bad are we talking? Like, steal-your-cookies bad or destroy-your-whole-village bad?"

"Worse," Puck said grimly. "They're capable of horrors you can't even imagine."

Roswaal leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "The Witch Cult is a daaark stain on this world, my dear. They operate in the shadows, but their influence runs deeeep. Archbishops are their leaders, each representing one of the Witch's sins. They are not enemies to be taken liiiightly."

Subaru's hands balled into fists. "And you think I can just waltz up and take one down? I don't have an army! Heck, I don't even have a decent weapon!"

"You have me," Puck said softly, his voice a quiet reassurance. But the tension in his small frame betrayed his unease.

"This is like Genshin Impact," Subaru muttered, half to herself. "You gather allies, make a plan, and then launch an epic attack…"

Roswaal raised a brow but said nothing, clearly amused by her ramblings.

Just then, a commotion from the market below shattered the tense atmosphere. Muffled shouts drifted through the open window, rising in urgency.

"The White Whale just attacked a merchant group near Flugel's Tree!" someone yelled.

Subaru frowned, the words tugging at her curiosity. "White Whale? What's that? Another fancy Archbishop title?"

Puck shook his head, his small form visibly tensing. Roswaal, on the other hand, grinned like a fox that had just spotted its prey.

Roswaal leaned forward in his chair, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of amusement and something much darker. His voice was slow and syrupy, as though savouring every word. "Ah, the White Whaaale… an ancient terror, a beast of the mists. It is a monstrosity born of nightmares, a leviathan that haaunts the Great Elior Forest and the Flugel's Tree. It devours all who dare cross its path, leeeaving no trace of their existence. Not even their names."

Subaru blinked, the weight of his words sinking in like a lead brick. "So… you're saying it's a big, scary monster that eats people and erases them from history? Cool, cool. Totally not terrifying at all. Nope. Love that for me."

Puck floated closer, his usual warm energy replaced with a chilling seriousness. "Lia, this isn't a joke. The White Whale is no ordinary creature. Many have tried to slay it, and they've all failed—horribly." He paused, his small paws clenched. "Even the most seasoned warriors fear it."

Subaru gulped, her mouth suddenly dry. "B-but if someone did kill it… what then?"

Roswaal's grin widened, as if he'd been waiting for this exact question. "Then, my dear, they would be hailed as a hero. Their name would echo through the ages, their deeds sung by minstrels across the land." He tilted his head, his tone turning sly. "At the very least, the cooouncil might think you're not… how do you say… crazy. At best, they'd be forced to reevaluate everything they think they knooow about you."

Subaru's heart thumped wildly in her chest. "So, you're saying… if we take down this White Whale, I'd go from 'crazy half-elf' to 'kingdom's saviour'?"

"Precisely," Roswaal purred.

She glanced at Puck, whose tiny face was etched with concern. "And by 'we,' you mean me, right? Because I don't have an army or, like, a giant flaming sword or anything remotely useful for this kind of thing."

Roswaal shrugged, completely unbothered. "Details, details."

Subaru stared at him, then at Puck, who simply sighed and shook his head. "You're serious? You want me to go after this… this whale thing?"

"Well…" Roswaal drawled, tapping his chin theatrically. "If you don't… then I suppose the council will continue to think you're entirely unfit for the throne. But if you do succeed—"

"I get it," Subaru cut in, throwing her hands in the air. "I'll be a hero. Or at least, they'll stop thinking I'm a total lunatic. Probably. Maybe." She frowned. "Okay, fine. So how do we kill it?"

Silence.

Roswaal and Puck exchanged a glance.

"Wait," Subaru said, her eyes narrowing. "You don't know how to kill it, do you?"

Roswaal's grin didn't falter. "That, my dear, is for you to figure oooout."

"Oh, great. Fantastic." She pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. "Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"

Puck floated closer, his small form radiating warmth. "Lia, this is too dangerous. You don't have to do this. We'll find another way to prove your worth."

But Subaru shook her head, her jaw tightening. "No. If this is what it takes to make them see I'm not just some crazy half-elf, then I'm doing it." She paused, then added with a weak laugh, "Besides, how hard can it be to take down one giant fish?"

Puck groaned, and Roswaal chuckled softly.

Subaru clapped her hands together, forcing a grin. "Alright, boys, listen up! I'll cook up a plan, and we're taking down this overgrown sushi roll! Let's go!"

Roswaal leaned back in his chair, his eyes twinkling. "Ah, I do looove your enthusiasm. This will be quite entertaining, indeed."

Puck, however, wasn't laughing. "Lia, this isn't a game. Promise me you'll be careful."

Subaru flashed him a thumbs-up, though her confidence was already wavering. "Careful's my middle name. Now let's figure out how to hunt a whale!"

From the market below, the distant chatter of the townsfolk drifted up, mingling with the unease that lingered in the room. Somewhere, out there, the White Whale waited—a beast of legend, a monster of unspeakable terror. And Subaru had just volunteered to face it head-on.

"Well," she muttered under her breath, "this is gonna be a disaster."

Û~Û

Otto Suwen, self-proclaimed master merchant extraordinaire, was halfway through a particularly hearty bite of stew when the racket outside the bar caught his attention. He winced as the shouting grew louder, his fork pausing mid-air. Curious, he craned his neck to peer through the hazy window.

Outside, a young woman wearing a pristine white, pointy-hooded cloak stood her ground against a haggard group of mercenaries. Her violet eyes sparkled with determination, and her cloak shimmered faintly under the fading sunlight. Otto raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself.

He couldn't hear the full exchange, but the frustration in her voice was unmistakable.

"Listen, I'll pay you well," she said, her tone firm yet pleading. "You don't even need to do much. Just fight with me and my team."

The largest mercenary, a grizzled man with a scar running down his cheek, scoffed loudly. "Yeah? Fight where?"

She hesitated, then said, "The Great Elior Forest. Near the Flugel's Tree."

The group immediately stiffened. Whispers of unease rippled among them.

"Wait," another mercenary said, his tone laced with suspicion. "Why the hell would anyone go there? That's White Whale territory."

The woman nodded. "Exactly. We're going to kill it."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, laughter. Loud, raucous, and borderline cruel.

"Kill the White Whale? Are you out of your mind?!" the scarred man barked, slapping his knee. "Get lost, witch!"

Otto winced as the word "witch" cut through the air.

The woman flinched, her eyes briefly clouding with hurt before she quickly masked it. She crossed her arms and tried to appear indifferent, though Otto could see the slight tremor in her posture. "Fine. Forget it," she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness.

She turned away from the jeering group and pushed open the door to the bar. Her movements were stiff as she approached the counter. "A drink, please," she said, sliding a small coin pouch forward.

The bartender barely glanced at her before shooing her away with a dismissive wave. "We don't serve your kind here."

Otto's grip on his fork tightened, but he said nothing as she sighed heavily and exited the bar. Her shoulders slumped as she disappeared down the road.

He tried to go back to his meal, but the image of her haunted him. Those violet eyes, the desperation in her voice, the cruel way she'd been dismissed—it lingered. With a frustrated groan, Otto pushed his chair back and grabbed a bottle of soft drink from his cart outside.

"Alright, alright, fine," he muttered to himself. "Just this once."

He found her sitting on a bench nearby, staring at the ground. Her hood was down now, revealing her striking silver hair. When he approached, she looked up in surprise.

"Here," Otto said, thrusting the bottle toward her. "You look like you could use this."

The woman blinked, genuinely stunned. "You… you're giving this to me?"

Otto nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "It's just a drink. Don't make a big deal out of it."

She took the bottle with trembling hands, her lips curving into a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice soft.

That's when Otto really saw her face. The sharp, delicate features. The pointed ears. The violet eyes framed by silver locks. He froze, his stomach twisting in recognition.

A half-elf.

Not just any half-elf—the half-elf. The supposed witch incarnate.

He forced himself to stay calm, though he could feel his heart pounding. The last thing he wanted was to offend her and end up frozen solid.

"I, uh… you're welcome," he stammered, trying to mask his unease.

She noticed his discomfort and sighed, the smile slipping away. "It's okay. You don't have to pretend. I know what people think of me." She stood, brushing off her cloak. "Thanks again for the drink. I'll get out of your way."

She turned to leave, and Otto felt a pang of regret. Without thinking, he blurted, "I'll take you to the Great Elior Forest, near the Flugel's Tree!"

The woman spun around, her eyes wide with shock. "What? Are you serious? Are you a mercenary?"

Otto froze, realising too late what he'd just said. He glanced around and saw the other bar patrons staring at him like he'd lost his mind. He laughed nervously. "Uh, no. I'm just a merchant. But, uh, I was heading that way anyway, so…"

Her expression softened. "Oh. I see."

Otto rubbed the back of his neck, trying to save face. "I mean, if you want, you can tag along. Strength in numbers, right?"

Her eyes lit up, but then she hesitated. "I'm not alone."

"You're not?"

She pointed to the balcony of the luxurious inn across the street. Otto followed her gaze and nearly dropped the bottle when he saw a flamboyantly dressed man waving enthusiastically.

"Roswaal… L. Mathers?" Otto whispered, his mind racing with possibilities.

The woman nodded. "That's my sponsor."

Otto gulped. Business opportunities aside, he was now in way over his head.

"You said you needed mercenaries?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.

She tilted her head. "Oh, yeah."

Otto forced a grin. "Well, I might know some people…"

Û~Û

Author Note: Coincidentally, my other story: 'Stone-Faced But Friendly' is also in the same arc. Check it out. Dattebayo.

Thanks for reading this chapter. Drop your thoughts in the review section. Your words motivate me to write better, larger and with more depth.

Till next time!