The throne room stretched before Subaru, its vastness a silent testament to the weight of authority it held. High ceilings loomed overhead, adorned with intricate carvings of dragons and long-forgotten heroes, their stone eyes gazing down in judgment. Sunlight poured through towering stained-glass windows, scattering vibrant hues across the polished marble floor. The air carried the faint scent of incense and aged wood, a sacred aroma that clashed with the tension coiling in Subaru's chest. Silence reigned, thick and heavy, pressing against him as though the room itself demanded his submission. Yet, the knights and nobles lining the chamber murmured among themselves, their whispers barely audible, their eyes flickering with the same question: Had this boy been here all along?
Subaru stood firm, his posture rigid despite the frantic rhythm of his heart. Each beat thundered in his ears, a relentless drum urging him to falter. He could not afford to break, not now. This was a gamble, pure and unadulterated, a throw of the dice in a game he had played too many times before. Memories flashed through his mind: the loot house, where blades had gleamed in the dim light; the mabeast forest, where snarls had echoed through the trees. Those moments had tested him, forged him, but this was different. This was the royal palace, the throne room, and the stakes towered higher than ever. He had stumbled here, missed his chance to act with grace in front of Emilia, and now he resolved to hold his ground. No move would be made until she spoke. His fate rested on her words.
Across the room, Emilia's presence drew his gaze like a beacon. Her lips trembled, caught in the act of seeking words that refused to come. Her amethyst eyes wandered, darting across the faces around her before settling on Subaru's own brown stare. In that moment, her expression shifted, a subtle tightening of her mouth revealing a decision made in silence. Subaru felt the pull of her gaze, an invisible thread tugging at him, drawing him into depths he could not fathom. Whatever she said next, he would accept it. He braced himself, ready to bear the weight of her judgment.
"Commoner, explain why you stood behind me without my notice." A sharp voice sliced through the stillness, shattering the fragile tension. Priscilla's fan pointed toward Subaru, an extension of her commanding presence. Her tone was a blade, honed with arrogance, her crimson eyes glinting with the certainty of her superiority. She knew he had not been there when she entered, and she relished the chance to corner him.
Subaru met her stare, his jaw clenched tight. "There is no reason for me to explain anything to another candidate," he shot back, his voice steady despite the tremor threatening to betray his hands. The pressure in the room bore down on him, a tangible force, but he refused to yield. Defiance was his shield, and he wielded it with all the strength he could muster. Priscilla's lips curled faintly, a flicker of displeasure crossing her features. She did not care for his answer.
Before the standoff could escalate, a smooth, melodic voice intervened. "I'm sorry, Priscilla-sama. It seems our servant got lost and inconvenienced you. I truuuuly apologize." Roswaal stepped forward, his clownish attire a stark contrast to the gravity of the moment. His smile remained fixed.
Priscilla's gaze lingered on Subaru, her eyes narrowing as though peeling back layers to uncover something hidden. Then, with a graceful flick of her fan, she veiled her mouth, concealing a smile that never reached her eyes. Without another word, she turned and strode toward the center of the room, her every step a declaration of dominance. The throne and the association awaited her, and she claimed their attention effortlessly.
A softer voice broke the silence next, tinged with resignation. "I guess this is inevitable." Varocious, the small vampire lady, fixed Subaru with her dark, knowing eyes. She understood him too well, his stubbornness a trait she could not ignore. "It's Maxine, isn't it? She helped thee to get to the castle."
Subaru shook his head quickly, a forced grin tugging at his lips. "W-what? No… Why would you think that, Var-san? My intention here is mine alone." He could not betray Maxine, not after her aid. His words strained to convince, but a slight quiver undermined his effort. Loyalty warred with his need to protect, and he prayed his denial held firm.
Varocious sighed, her hand resting against her cheek in quiet contemplation. "O' world, what should I do? Thee canst be here," she murmured, her tone a blend of exasperation and faint affection. Her Shakespearean cadence wrapped her words in a gentle melody, yet they carried a weight Subaru could not dismiss.
But beyond Varocious, one figure still demanded his reckoning. Emilia's voice emerged, fragile and barely audible. "Why…?" She stepped closer, her eyes searching his face with an intensity that pierced through him. "How… No, why? Why are you here, Subaru?"
Subaru scratched the back of his neck, his mind scrambling for order amidst chaos. "When I explain, you'll see that there are actually deep but shallow reasons, heavy but good reasons," he stammered, the words tumbling out in a clumsy rush. He needed her to understand, but coherence eluded him.
Her gaze sharpened, a shadow of hurt creeping into her voice. "Don't tease me, Subaru. You promised. Don't you remember?" The accusation stung, a reminder of the vow he had shattered by leaving the mansion behind.
Guilt twisted in his gut, sharp and unrelenting. He knew he had broken his promise, and the truth of it gnawed at him. Yet, equally true was the concern that had driven him here, the fear for Emilia's safety that had propelled him into this gamble. How could he weave those conflicting threads into something she might accept? His thoughts raced, desperate for an answer.
The moment fractured as the throne room doors swung open with a resonant creak. A voice boomed through the chamber.
"Everyone, you're all here. The members of the Wise Men's Association will now enter." Subaru turned, his focus shifting to the procession stepping into the room. At their forefront stood Marcos, the knight who had spoken with Priscilla earlier.
Behind him trailed a group of elderly figures, their robes marking their elevated status. Deep lines etched their faces, carved by years of toil and wisdom, their demeanor radiating authority. Among them, one stood apart: a white-haired old man, his stature diminutive yet commanding. His long beard rivaled his hair in length, both a stark white-blond drained of color. Though shorter than Subaru, his piercing eyes cut through the room like tempered steel, dispelling any notion of frailty. The Wise Men had arrived, and with them, the weight of judgment descended anew.
The Wise Men's Association awaited, their presence a looming shadow that swallowed any chance for further debate. From the sidelines, Roswaal's voice slithered into the stillness, smooth and deliberate, tinged with that ever-present note of mischief. "I must insist it would be most intriguing for Subaru to partake in the event, wouldn't you agree?" His lips curled into a painted grin, a jester's mask hiding the machinations beneath.
Varocious turned her piercing gaze toward the clownish lord, her dark eyes narrowing as a ripple of suspicion stirred within her. Why would thee permit this? her mind demanded, a whirl of questions spiraling beneath her composed exterior. Yet, her confidence remained unshaken, a steel anchor in turbulent seas. She could steer any chaos back to order, no matter how reckless Subaru's involvement might prove. And if Maxine had lent her aid to guide him here, then perhaps there was more to the boy than met the eye. Maxine trusts him, Varocious mused, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. She'll answer for meddling later. For now, she let the thought drift away like smoke, returning her attention to the gathered nobles with the grace of a predator among prey.
Beyond the throne room's towering doors, Maxine Craft paused mid-step, a sudden sneeze jolting her frame. A shiver of intuition prickled her skin. Someone's speaking of me, she thought, her lips quirking into a wry, knowing grin. Beside her, Noah's faint glow pulsed in quiet harmony, as if sharing her amusement.
Subaru, meanwhile, found himself swept toward the knights' domain within the chamber. Aldebaran loomed behind him, while Vaelthoryn stood to his left, his full plate gleaming like a fortress unto itself. Ahead, Reinhard van Astrea radiated a warmth that cut through the room's austere chill.
"I knew you'd come, Subaru," the red-haired knight said, raising a hand in greeting. Today, he wore the crisp lines of a knight's uniform, a far cry from the casual garb of their slum encounter, yet the sword at his hip remained unchanged, its dragon-claw etchings a silent hymn to his legend. "When I heard Emilia would attend, I had a feeling you'd be here too."
"Reinhard! I've been searching everywhere for you!" Subaru's voice carried a rush of relief, gratitude bubbling up like a spring. The memory of Reinhard's blade flashing through the slums, a lifeline in the chaos, lingered as a debt he could never fully repay.
To his left, Val's armored hands carved swift, deliberate shapes through the air, a language of silence that Reinhard interpreted with effortless grace. "Sir Val wishes to know if we've met before," Reinhard said, his tone light yet warm. "I'd say it's more than a mere meeting, wouldn't you, Subaru? We faced the Bowel Hunter, Elsa, together, after all." His smile widened, a bridge to their shared past.
Subaru scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish laugh escaping him. "Eh? That's overstating it. I hardly did anything…" His words faltered, humility weighing them down. The battle had been a tapestry woven by Emilia's magic, Rom's strength, and Reinhard's unmatched skill, with Subaru little more than a thread clinging to the edges.
Val's head shook, a faint clink of metal accompanying the motion, and his hands danced once more. Reinhard's chuckle was soft, his eyes glinting with gentle mirth. "He says it's a wonder you survived at all. And he's right, Subaru. Few walk away from Elsa's blades. You ought to give yourself more credit." The words settled over Subaru like a gentle tide, washing away a sliver of the doubt that gnawed at him.
After that, he met Felix and Subaru's pulse thudded in his ears, still rattled from the bombshell Reinhard had dropped. That cat-like figure, all delicate features and playful demeanor, was a man. The realization churned in Subaru's gut, unraveling every assumption he'd clung to about Felix, leaving his mind a tangled mess of doubt and disbelief.
Before he could wrestle his thoughts into order, a new figure cut through the scene. Julius Juukulius, his purple hair shimmering like a regal cloak in the dim. He positioned himself briefly in front of Reinhard, his gaze settling on Subaru for a fleeting moment. A simple nod, polite and measured, passed between them before Julius returned to his post. That was all it took. A spark of jealousy ignited in Subaru's chest, hot and sharp, flaring into a hateful glare that he couldn't suppress. Julius, with his effortless poise and knightly air, grated against every insecurity Subaru harbored. Reinhard's voice broke through the haze, calm yet tinged with confusion. "Subaru, what's wrong?" The question hung there, probing, but Subaru waved it off with a forced shrug. "It's nothing," he muttered, the lie sour on his tongue. Beside him, Val let out a quiet sigh, a sound so faint it might have been the wind, yet it carried the weight of unspoken judgment.
The murmur of their exchange had barely faded when a commanding presence seized the room's attention. Markos, the Knight Commander, strode forward, his armor clanking softly with each step, a beacon of authority in the sea of onlookers. His voice rang out, crisp and unwavering. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Wise Men's Association, the candidates are all here. It is my honor to presume that I, Commander of the Kingsguard, will be conducting the proceedings." The words settled over the throne room like a decree, silencing the rustle of fabric and the shuffle of feet.
At the heart of the chamber, four figures stood before the empty throne, their silhouettes framed against the ornate backdrop of the Wise Men's Association. Emilia, her silver hair cascading like a river of starlight, exuded a serene resolve. Priscilla, draped in crimson, wielded her fan like a queen's scepter, her presence a blaze of confidence. Crusch, with her piercing emerald gaze, stood as unyielding as a blade, while Anastasia's sly, knowing smile hinted at a mind already three steps ahead. They faced the council, a row of elders whose weathered faces spoke of battles fought in words rather than steel.
The ceremony flowed with a quiet elegance. The candidates, chosen by the holy dragon, bore the weight of a prophecy carved into the Dragon History Stone: You shall choose a priestess from among the five who may be the leader of the new nation, and you shall make a pact with the dragon. The new priestess would rise as queen, her rule a covenant with the holy dragon that guarded the kingdom. The Insignia, a relic of destiny, had glowed in their hands, marking them as the chosen. Yet the Royal Selection had stalled, delayed by the absence of the fifth and final candidate, until this very moment.
Reinhard's voice rose, resonant and proud, slicing through the stillness. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Honorable Society of Wise Men, I, Reinhard Van Astrea, Knight of the Kingsguard, am pleased to report the completion of my mission. The Dragon Priestess, candidate for the throne, the fifth and final one, has been found." A ripple of anticipation swept the room as the grand doors creaked open, their groan echoing off the high ceiling. Flanked by two petite maids in crisp uniforms, a figure emerged, stepping into the torchlight with hesitant grace.
Subaru's breath caught as his eyes traced her form. A pale yellow dress clung to her slender frame, the fabric swaying with each step. White gloves stretched to her elbows, and high-heeled shoes clicked faintly against the carpet, betraying her unease. Her golden hair, semi-long and fine, framed a face so delicate it seemed a gust might shatter her. Yet Subaru knew better. Those red eyes burned with a fierce, unyielding will, and the glimpse of her mischievous double teeth promised a spirit far from fragile. Felt. The name crashed through his mind, recognition slamming into him like a wave. The girl from the slums, all grit and defiance, now stood before the throne, a candidate for queen.
His jaw dropped, astonishment locking his limbs as he stared at her transformation. The room's focus shifted, every gaze pinned to the newcomer, but Reinhard's voice carried on, steady and clear. "The woman whom I look up to as my king, her name is Felt-sama." The declaration hung in the air, a spark igniting the tinder of destiny. Subaru's mind reeled, grappling with the impossible reality before him. Felt, a thief turned royal contender, had just rewritten the rules and the throne room trembled with the promise of what was to come.
Varocious Atroscity stood among the nobles, her sharp gaze fixed on the girl. Memories stirred within her, fragmented and fleeting, like dust motes caught in a sunbeam. She had seen Felt before, hadn't she? A wiry child darting through the slums, her red eyes glinting with feral cunning. Back then, when Varocious had walked those grimy streets, her hands full of bread and her heart heavy with purpose, Felt had been just another face in the crowd. A thief, yes, but one with a spark that lingered in Varocious's mind. Her origins remained a shadow, though. The slums were a tapestry of lost souls, and Varocious could not claim to know every thread. Yet something about Felt's yellow hair, her piercing crimson stare, tugged at the edges of her recollection, a puzzle piece that refused to fit.
Felt's personality, however, shone brighter than any memory. Forged in the crucible of poverty, she carried an aggression that snapped at the world like a cornered beast. It was there now, in the way she strode forward, her pale yellow dress an ill-fitting cage around her wild spirit. She looked out of place, her gloved hands twitching as if itching for a fight. Varocious's lips curved faintly. Reinhard's silver tongue must have woven some spell to drag her here. The Sword Saint stood at Felt's side, his serene demeanor a stark contrast to her bristling unease. She seemed utterly lost, her gaze darting across the room as though searching for an escape from this gilded trap.
Without warning, Felt's leg shot out, aiming a sharp kick at Reinhard's shin. The motion was lightning-quick, a reflex born of the streets, but Reinhard caught her leg effortlessly. Undeterred, Felt's eyes snapped to Subaru, recognition igniting her features. A grin split her face, revealing that mischievous teeth. "Wow! What the heck, big bro? Why's your stomach so tough? You healed that fast?" Her voice cut through the murmurs of the room, brash and unapologetic, as she launched a front kick into Subaru's midsection. The blow landed with a dull thud, yet Subaru stood firm, unshaken as if carved from granite. Felt stumbled, her balance thrown, but Reinhard's steady hand caught her arm, sparing her the indignity of a fall.
Subaru's lips quirked into a small, warm smile, his heart swelling with silent gratitude. Thank you, Maxi. The Yang spell hummed beneath his skin, a shield of resilience gifted by magic. "Still kicking as usual, huh? I'm glad you're doing well," he said, his voice laced with affection. That she called him big bro sent a quiet thrill through him. He had faced death for her once, and seeing her here, fierce and unbroken beside Reinhard, eased a burden he hadn't known he carried.
The tender moment shattered as Markos, the Knight Commander, stepped forward. "Felt-sama, you may renew old acquaintances later. This way, please." His tone was iron, cutting through the air with the weight of command. Felt's mouth opened, a retort poised on her tongue, but Reinhard's gentle presence beside her nudged her forward. She shot Subaru a final, reluctant glance before moving, her expression a tempest of defiance and confusion.
"So, what do you want me to do?" Felt grumbled, positioning herself beside Emilia. The half-elf's silver hair and quiet grace made Felt's rough edges stand out all the more.
Reinhard's voice was soft, yet unyielding. "I'd like to tell you how to behave like a lady, but first, please take a look at this." From his pocket, he drew the Dragon Insignia, its surface gleaming like a shard of captured starlight. He placed it in Felt's palm, and her brows furrowed, skepticism etching her features. Then, the jewel at its center flared to life, a warm, pulsing glow that bathed her hand in radiance.
"As you can see, the dragon has indeed approved of Felt-sama as a priestess," Reinhard declared, his voice resonating through the hall. "With her participation confirmed, the Royal Selection may now begin." He inclined his head in a reverent bow, a gesture echoed by Markos and the Kingsguard, their hands pressed to their chests in solemn unison.
The nobles, however, bristled with suspicion. Whispers slithered through the crowd, gaining venom with each passing breath. Miklotov, his wizened face stern, leaned forward. "And her origins, Sword Saint? Where did you find this… candidate?"
Reinhard met the elder's gaze unflinchingly. "In the slums, esteemed councilor. She was raised among the forgotten."
The words landed like a thunderclap, splintering the room's fragile calm. Scornful murmurs erupted into open disdain, the nobles' faces twisting with contempt. Priscilla's laughter sliced through the din, a cruel, crystalline sound. "A slum rat? You jest, surely! The dragon chose that?" Her fan snapped open, a shield for her sneering lips.
Emilia's voice rose, gentle but firm. "She is here because the dragon wills it. That should mean something."
Priscilla's mockery shifted, her gaze sharpening on Emilia like a blade seeking flesh. Subaru's fists tightened, a surge of anger flaring in his chest, his glare a silent vow to shield them both.
Reinhard's calm intervened once more, a steady hand soothing the storm. Miklotov raised a gnarled hand, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Then, royal selection candidates, please come forth."
One by one, they stepped into the light.
"Priscilla Barielle-sama and her attendant, Al," Markos announced. Priscilla's crimson gown blazed like a wildfire, Al at her side. "The selection is pointless. I am the one suited to rule this nation! All you need do is grovel at my feet and serve me!" Her fan snapped shut, her words a decree carved in stone.
"Head of the Karsten family, Crusch Karsten-sama, and her attendant, the knight Felix Argyle." Crusch's ambereyes gleamed with resolve, Felix a quiet shadow beside her. "Should I become the new ruler, I will make the dragon forget the covenant it demanded. The dragon's empire of Lugunica belongs not to the dragon, but to us."
"Anastasia Hoshin-sama of the Hoshin Company, and her attendant, the knight Julius Juukulius." Anastasia's smile was a merchant's lure, Julius a regal figure at her back. "I'm a greedy gal, so I want everything. No amount of commercial success can satisfy me. I want my own nation!"
"Emilia-sama, endorsed by Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers, with her advisor, Baroness Varocious Atroscity." Emilia stood flanked by Roswaal's flamboyant presence and Varocious's quiet strength. "I have only one wish, for all to be equal. I desire to create a nation where all citizens are equal." Roswaal's chuckle danced through the air. "Still, after aaaall these knights as attendants, I feeeel terribly out of place here!" Varocious merely smiled, her composure unshaken.
"Finally, Felt-sama and her attendant, the knight Reinhard van Astrea." Felt's reluctance crackled like static, Reinhard a steadfast pillar beside her. "Hang on! Don't get the wrong idea! I never said I'd be the next ruler! Who'd want to be in a royal selection?!" Her voice rang out, raw and defiant.
Markos blinked, his stoicism faltering. "Are you saying you withdraw?"
"Damn right I am!" Felt's words struck like a hammer.
Silence swallowed the grand hall, her words reverberating off the marble walls as the gathered nobles and knights absorbed the shock of her defiance.
The moment unraveled swiftly, a thread pulled loose from a tapestry of order. "I've overlooked this because the situation was urgent, but to drag it out this long is senseless!" a mage among the nobles barked, his voice sharp with indignation. His sentiment found an echo in one of the Wise Men, who leaned forward, his tone thick with scorn. "He's right. The Astrea family offers a gutter rat to rule us, while Margrave Mathers endorses a half-devil? Utter foolishness!"
Emilia remained silent, her gaze dropping to the polished floor as she retreated to her position beside her allies. Sadness clouded her amethyst eyes, a quiet storm brewing beneath her composed exterior. Varocious let out a soft sigh, her efforts to cleanse the taint of half-elf prejudice, rooted in the legacy of a certain Witch from over four hundred years past, still falling short. She could not fault the nobles entirely; their fear was a right earned through generations of tales. Yet, to cast such venom at Emilia, a royal candidate no less, settled poorly in her chest.
Even Roswaal, voiced a mild dissent. "It's not at all nice to call a half-elf a half-devil," he said, his tone laced with a playful chiding that barely masked his amusement. The councilman snapped back, his words a blade unsheathed. "She matches the appearance of the Witch of Envy as it has been described for generations! Why do you not realize that even allowing her in the throne room is dreadful?"
Emilia's eyes fluttered shut as she stepped down from the stage, the councilman's shout chasing her like a shadow. Varocious's mind churned, her role as Emilia's advisor compelling her to stem this tide of derision. It was her duty to safeguard Emilia's standing, to weave a shield of respect around her. But before she could muster a response, the councilman's final barb slipped free, a venomous hiss of "Filthy woman." The worst fear Varocious harbored unfurled in that instant, a dark bloom of insult staining the air.
"Enough of this!" The shout cleaved through the stunned silence, a lone butler boy stepping into the center of the throne room. Subaru's voice was a raw, defiant roar, shaking the hall from its stupor. Roswaal's lips stretched into a wide smirk, a glint of something cunning dancing in his mismatched eyes. Varocious caught the expression, a ripple of unease stirring within her. Something was off with the clownish margrave, a thread of intent she could not yet grasp, but Subaru's bold stand demanded her focus now, a spark poised to ignite the room anew. His heart thundered in his chest, each beat a deafening echo as he stood at the room's center, every eye fixed upon him.
"Subaru, it's all right! Stop this!" Emilia's voice pierced the stillness, quivering with unease. Her amethyst eyes glistened with concern, her slender hands clasped tightly as though to anchor herself. She feared for him, dreaded the chaos he might once again draw upon himself.
But Subaru could not relent. His pulse surged, heat flooding his body, yet he stood firm, his stance unyielding. He cast a glance toward Varocious, the petite vampire noble whose abyss-dark eyes shimmered like polished stone, and flashed her a smirk brimming with purpose. Watch me, Var-san. With measured elegance, he placed one hand behind his back and the other over his racing heart, bowing at a precise 45-degree angle. The gesture was grand, almost performative, yet it carried an earnestness that hushed the room's murmurs.
"Excuse me for the sudden intrusion, esteemed councilmen," Subaru declared, his voice ringing clear and steady, though his throat tightened with the effort. He rose, meeting their gazes without a flicker of doubt. "My name is Natsuki Subaru, currently in the service of Lord Roswaal. I am fully aware that I might hold the lowest status in this room. But I cannot stand silent before your discrimination against Emilia."
His words flowed, each syllable a deliberate stride across a perilous ledge. He spoke without hesitation, without faltering, even as his heart pounded wildly and sweat beaded beneath his collar. Courage, he reminded himself, was not the absence of fear but the will to defy it. Thank you, Maxi. Her Fortification spell pulsed within him, sharpening his thoughts, calming his nerves just enough. Emilia's gaze shifted, confusion giving way to a tender uncertainty, her lips parting soundlessly. Felt, nearby, stared in open-mouthed shock, her crimson eyes wide. To her, Subaru was the playful, boisterous big brother, not this composed figure commanding the chamber.
Yet it was Varocious whose response held the greatest weight. Her dark eyes gleamed with a quiet pride, a predator's satisfaction flickering within their depths. She stepped forward, her presence a shadow that demanded reverence. "Indeed," she said, her voice smooth as velvet, "to show unkindness toward another based solely on their appearance is unjust."
She turned to the Wise Men, her lips curling into a smile that revealed her fangs, sharp and glinting in the torchlight. It was not her usual gentle welcome but an unsettling grin that chilled the air. "And I would remind all in this room that Emilia-sama is a royal candidate chosen by our holy dragon. He has extended his kindness to all five candidates present. To discriminate against one is to challenge the prophecy, the very will of the dragon himself." Her gaze swept the assembly, her pupils like voids that devoured the light, instilling a creeping dread in those who met her stare. "Does anyone here dare to place themselves above the dragon's divine will?"
Silence descended upon the throne room, so absolute it seemed to stifle breath itself. Not a sound stirred, not a whisper dared to rise. Even Val, clad in his gleaming armor, trembled faintly, his shoulders quaking as he fought to suppress a laugh. The tension lingered, taut and unyielding, until the Wise Men lowered their eyes, their objections fading into the stillness.
Subaru remained upright, his heart still racing, but a quiet victory settled within him. He had faced the tempest and stood unbroken.
The throne room of Lugunica's royal palace seemed to hold its breath as Emilia turned. Her silver hair shimmered like moonlight, framing her resolute amethyst eyes. "I understand that my half-elf lineage and other similarities to the Witch subject me to prejudice," she said, her voice a clear bell cutting through the murmurs. "However, I adamantly refuse to let all my potential be plucked out simply for that reason." Her declaration echoed, firm and unyielding, drawing a subtle nod from Varocious, whose dark gaze gleamed with approval.
The bearded councilman's eyes narrowed, shifting to Subaru. "By the way, what, exactly, is that young man's position?" His voice was gruff, laced with suspicion. It would have been simpler for someone else to deflect the question, to let Subaru's presence slip by unnoticed. But Subaru was never one for simplicity, but he was still Natsuki Subaru, after all.
"I am Emilia's best knight!" Subaru proclaimed, his voice bold and brimming with pride. He stood tall, shoulders squared, though his heart thudded beneath his ribs.
Roswaal's painted lips curved into a faint, amused smile he barely bothered to conceal. Emilia's gaze snapped to Subaru, wide with shock, while Val shook his head in quiet resignation. Varocious, her confidence unshaken moments before, felt a ripple of unease tug at her composure. The councilman's brow furrowed deeper. "Hmm, a knight, is he?" he muttered, his tone thick with doubt.
Before Subaru could reply, Julius Juukulius stepped forward, his purple hair catching the light like a royal standard. His posture was flawless, his eyes sharp as they fixed on Subaru. "Forgive me for interrupting, but there is something I must ask him," he said, his voice smooth yet edged with steel. "If you truly proclaim yourself to be Emilia-sama's knight."
Subaru met Julius's gaze head-on, unflinching. "I mean every word," he said, his voice steady despite the pulse hammering in his ears.
"You just declared that you are a knight," Julius replied, his tone rising with accusation. "And you audaciously did so here, before the Knights of Lugunica!" As if on cue, the knights surrounding him stomped their feet, the marble floor resounding with their unity. Swords rasped from sheaths, their blades glinting in the torchlight, a silent threat hanging in the air.
Yet Subaru remained still, his expression calm, a strange serenity anchoring him. It felt right, this unshakable resolve, a refusal to falter before Emilia, Varocious, or Maxine's unspoken faith. "And?" he countered, his voice slicing through the tension. "Has anyone here fought Elsa the Bowel Hunter before?" His eyes locked onto Julius, a smoldering glare beneath his composure. The knight's tales had been vouched for by both Emilia and Varocious, and the vampire's word carried a weight beyond question.
"I fought the assassin myself," Subaru pressed on, his tone as solid as stone. "I defended both Emilia and Felt, royal candidates, long enough for Sir Reinhard to arrive and finish the fight. And as you can see, I am alive and well." His heart strained against his chest, but his words rang with unshakable certainty. "Or must I have my throat slit to prove it? Or my guts spilled on the ground? Or my head smashed to mush? Or…" The litany poured forth, each horror a shadow of past loops, deaths he bore in silence. Yet he spoke of them as mere possibilities, and the curse of Return by Death remained dormant.
"Subaru! Enough!" Emilia's cry cut through his words, sharp with alarm and a tremor of fear. Subaru blinked, the fog of his own voice clearing. The room stared, unsettled by the ease with which he spoke of death, his calm too stark, too practiced. The Fortification spell thrummed within him, its potency rendering him unnaturally focused, His serenity was now inhuman.
Varocious's eyes drilled into him, her expression a mask, though her gaze held a silent inquiry. Subaru dipped his head slightly.
"My apologies," he said, his voice still firm. "But it seems the knights of this country have their own standards." His tone was pure mockery.
Then, a peal of laughter broke the tension, bright and unrestrained. Priscilla snapped her fan shut, her crimson eyes dancing with delight. "This commoner's words alone are enough to silence you all," she said, her voice a blend of scorn and glee. "How amusing!"
Felt's voice slipped through the heavy air of the throne room, a fragile thread of sound. "Big bro…?" Her crimson eyes, wide and searching, traced the lines of Subaru's face. Was this truly the Subaru she knew? The goofy, reckless boy who tripped over his own enthusiasm was gone. In his place stood a figure cloaked in confidence, his words about death falling from his lips with an ease that pricked her nerves. She didn't like it, not one bit. Sure, watching him put the nobles and knights in their place was fun and all, but the shadow in his tone chilled her to the bone, dimming the warmth she'd always tied to him.
Reinhard's voice rang out, sharp and clear as a struck chime. "It's true," he proclaimed, his words cutting through the haze of whispers. "Natsuki Subaru stood with Emilia-sama and Felt-sama, bravely shielding them from the notorious assassins."
Markos turned his gaze to Julius, his brow furrowing with realization. "I see. So that's why you spoke of Elsa earlier." The memory surfaced, Julius's quiet request for tighter security, a precaution against the assassin's blade now clicking into place.
Julius's violet eyes settled on Subaru, probing, reassessing. He'd expected the boy to falter under the knights' piercing stares, to crumble like dry earth. Yet here Subaru stood, unwavering, his tale solid as stone. "Then I have nothing more to add," Julius said, his tone even and deliberate. "My apologies for the interruption." With a graceful bow to the Wise Men, he retreated to his post. Varocious let out a soft breath, relief loosening the knot in her chest. The knight's withdrawal eased the pressure, though the glares of his fellows lingered, smoldering with barely veiled contempt.
Varocious's stance stiffened, her resolve a quiet fortress. No harm would touch the boy, not while she drew breath. He was her Judge, a title that bound her to him as surely as steel. Val caught the shift in her posture, his sharp eyes reading her intent without a word. If danger stirred, he'd be the first to meet it, a silent sentinel clad in gleaming armor.
A councilman's voice, slow and measured, pierced the tense stillness. "Emilia-sama, if nothing else, he has proven you are no threat to fear. You've chosen a fine attendant." His gaze rested on Subaru, heavy with curiosity and a hint of calculation. "But might I ask where this boy hails from?"
Varocious stepped forward before Subaru or anyone could speak, her presence a storm wrapped in calm. "My sincere apologies, councilmen," she said, her voice smooth yet laced with an edge of iron. "Any knowledge that could be turned against our candidate, Emilia-sama, shall remain unspoken. I beseech thee to understand." Her dark eyes swept the room, a silent dare shimmering beneath her words, quelling any further challenge.
The councilman's mouth tightened, but he dipped his head in reluctant assent. Subaru stood firm, his pulse thundering beneath his steady mask, a quiet triumph carved into his features. He had stirred the hornet's nest, drawn far too many eyes, and now the the situation threatened to choke him. I can't falter here, he thought, his mind a frantic whirl. One misstep, one poorly chosen word, and the mask would shatter.
His heart roared like a racecar engine, each beat a deafening surge that clawed at his chest. Sweat prickled along his brow, his body screaming for escape before the panic swallowed him whole. He had to get out, to flee this gilded cage before the cracks in his bravado became fissures. Steeling himself, he drew a breath and let his voice slice through the tension. "It seems my presence here is no longer needed. Or perhaps it's beneath the dignity of Lugunica's proud knights to share space with someone as lowly as me, isn't it?" He dipped his head, a sharp smirk tugging at his lips as his gaze locked onto Julius. The knight stood unmoved, his face an unreadable slab of stone, but Subaru's words lingered, a subtle venom laced with mockery. If I'm low, then what does that make them? The unspoken challenge danced in his mind as he pivoted, his steps deliberate as he made for the towering double doors.
"Subaru? Where are you going?" Emilia's voice pierced the air, soft yet threaded with worry, stopping him cold. He froze mid-stride, her concern a tether that pulled at his heart. Slowly, he turned, meeting her gaze. Her amethyst eyes shimmered with unease, a quiet storm of confusion and care, her hands clasped tightly as if to anchor herself. The sight of her steadied him, if only for a moment.
"I'll wait for you after the event is over, Emilia-tan," Subaru said, tilting his head with a faint, reassuring smile. His voice softened, each syllable a tender vow. "I'm going to make Emilia the ruler. Emilia will be queen!" The words erupted from him, bold and resolute, a declaration that echoed through the vast chamber like a heartbeat given form. With a final glance at her, he stepped forward, the heavy doors swinging shut behind him with a deep, resonant thud, sealing his promise in the silence that followed.
Outside the throne room, Subaru stumbled down the corridor, his legs trembling as though the ground itself conspired to trip him. He rounded a corner, the watchful eyes of the guards fading into memory, and collapsed against the cold stone wall. His back slid down its rough surface, a slow surrender to exhaustion, until he slumped onto the floor. Sweat poured from his brow, rivers of salt tracing paths across his slick, clammy skin. The air clung to him, thick and humid, a summer haze that smothered every breath. His hand clutched his chest, fingers curling as his heart thundered within, each beat a wild, frantic drum threatening to shatter his ribs. The world tilted, stone and shadow blurring into a dizzying spiral.
What is this? His mind raced, a storm of questions with no anchor. Is the Fortification spell unraveling? Did it hide the stress only to unleash it now? The magic hummed beneath his skin, a double-edged blade that had sharpened his resolve in the throne room but now surged like a beast unbound. His pulse quickened, relentless, yet there was no pain, just a strange, exhilarating rush that teetered on the edge of madness. It's like I sprinted full tilt after a week of sloth, and somehow it feels… good?
"Subaru! What happened?" Maxine's voice sliced through the chaos, sharp and urgent. She materialized beside him, her cloaking spell dissipating like mist under dawn's light. Her hand pressed against his forehead, cool and steady, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him. Her other hand gripped his wrist, fingers seeking the frantic rhythm of his pulse. Noah floated closer, its faint glow casting soft light across Subaru's pallid face, illuminating the sweat-slick strands of his hair. "Everything's still in place, but his mana is surging like a wildfire," Noah murmured, its voice a quiet hum laced with concern. "This is…"
"Adrenaline," Maxine cut in, her tone threading exasperation with relief. "You churned out a surge to claw your way through whatever mess you stumbled into back there, and the Fortification spell cranked it up fivefold." She exhaled, a sigh that softened the air between them. "Your body's holding together, but you need to calm down."
Subaru's eyes widened, a spark of clarity piercing the fog of panic. "So my heart won't pop like a kernel in a fire?" His voice wavered, a shaky attempt at humor clinging to hope.
Maxine laughed, a sound as warm as it was grounding. "No, dumbass. You'll live. The adrenaline will fade soon, and you'll be back to your usual disaster-prone self." She slid his arm over her shoulder, bearing his weight with practiced ease as she guided him to his feet. Noah bobbed alongside, its light a gentle pulse in the dim corridor. "Come on, let's get you to the waiting room. Just don't shit yourself before we make it, got it?" she teased, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Noah chimed in, its tone dry as dust. "Don't plant the idea, sis."
"Hey!" Subaru protested, his voice frail but laced with a chuckle. The tension in his chest unraveled, thread by thread, soothed by Maxine's steady grip and sharp tongue. She was a true friend, after all.
Subaru's breath caught in his throat as the rush of adrenaline slowly faded, leaving behind a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed through his chest. He had faced them. He had really done it. He had stood firm against the nobles and knights, his words ringing out clear and strong as he defended Emilia's honor. Yet the triumph felt fragile, a brittle shell barely holding back the flood of doubt that surged beneath it. What if he had stumbled over his words? What if he had crumbled beneath the weight of their piercing stares? The Fortification spell had been his trump card, but now, in its absence, a cold, relentless uncertainty slithered into his thoughts. If Varocious's wisdom had not guided him, if Reinhard's unshakable strength had not bolstered him, would he still have pulled it off? The question clawed at him, sharp and unyielding.
Maxine's eyes flicked toward him, catching the distant haze in his gaze. She stepped closer, her hand closing around his arm with a firm tug, pulling him back from the abyss of his own mind. "Hey, dumbass, you're still breathing, aren't you? That's a win in my book." Her voice dipped, softening just enough to betray a thread of worry beneath her usual bite. "You didn't fall apart in there, Subaru. You held your ground. That's more than most already."
Subaru managed a shaky grin, the tight knot in his chest unraveling slightly under her words. "Yeah, thanks to a certain spell-slinging genius." He cast a glance at Noah, its soft glow a quiet reassurance against the dim shadows of the corridor. "You and your little magic trick saved my butt today, Maxi. You too, Noah."
Maxine let out a sharp snort, rolling her eyes with a smirk that barely hid her pride. "Isn't that obvious? It's only natural for the smartest mage of this era to pull off something so brilliant." Her tone puffed up with her usual self-praise. "But don't go getting all sentimental on me. You're still a walking disaster, just a marginally less pitiful one." She gave his arm a yank, her grip steady and deliberate as she pulled him forward. "Come on, less talking, more walking. I'm not about to drag your dumbass across the floor, you know."
A brittle laugh escaped Subaru's lips, small but genuine, cutting through the heavy fog of his exhaustion. With Maxine's hand steadying him and Noah's gentle light illuminating their path, the endless stretch of the corridor seemed a little less daunting. He wasn't alone in this moment, and for now, that was enough to keep him moving.