—There was a curious young man named Fourier Lugunica.
When we first met, he was still a boy, and the impression he gave as a person has hardly changed since those days—he remained childlike.
Cheerful, innocent, and carefree; you never knew what he would do or say in the next second, keeping everyone around him on edge.
But no matter how much he ran you ragged, he had a charm that kept you from minding.
We had been together for ten years.
Ten years of one unpredictable second after another; a lot happened.
There were surely more than a few things we could never simply laugh off.
Yet, looking back, I find I can even speak of such events with a laugh.
And at the heart of those memories told with a smile was his smile, bright as the sun.
Let me confess without any affectation. —I loved Fourier Lugunica.
From the day we met to this very day, not once has that feeling wavered.
No matter what words Fourier spoke to me, what feelings he hurled at me, what events we shared, what times we spent, what future we dreamed of, what bitter betrayals we suffered, or what tragedies tore my heart apart, my affection for him has never once wavered—never.
Surely, he would never let his smile fade, no matter the circumstances. He would not lose hope.
In fact, to the very, very end he remained noble, pure, and steadfast.
I respect him for it from the bottom of my heart. I revere him. I hold him dear.
So—,
「—Your Highness, please, forgive me」
This decision, this resignation, is by no means the result of my love for you having faded.
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—『Divine Dragon Church』, as its name suggests, is a sect that venerates the 『Divine Dragon』 Volcanica, who entered into a covenant with the kingdom, and reveres its power and blessings.
Its founding goes back some four hundred years, to the era of the covenant that led to the Lugunica Kingdom being called the Parent Dragon Kingdom, so it is fair to call it a venerable organization with a long history.
In fact, the 『Divine Dragon Church』 has admonished itself against expanding its influence and has continued to keep a certain distance from the kingdom’s core—the royal family and the royal castle. That, in short, was proof that the 『Divine Dragon Church』 sought no more power than necessary and defined itself simply as an anchor for faith.
Therefore, even when the Lugunica royal family was wiped out by a deadly disease and the Royal Selection to decide the next monarch began, the 『Divine Dragon Church』 did not undertake active intervention toward the kingdom.
「—And yet, we no longer have the leisure to say such things at ease. Ever since I heard of the Witch Cult’s outrages in Watergate City, my patience has been pushed closer to its limit by the day.」
「――――」
「Of course, the proper target of this anger is the Witch Cult, who treated the common folk so cruelly. But smoking them out and punishing them thoroughly is exceedingly difficult…… or rather, even if we did punish them, it would not save those who suffered. In all things, there are priorities.」
「――――」
「Punishment must never take precedence over salvation. The holy scripture says as much: 『Punishment without salvation is an empty lightning; the dragon first spreads its wings and tenderly enfolds the small lives.』 That is the optimal answer in humanitarian terms that I believe in……!」
Having so declaimed at the top of her voice, the woman snapped shut the thick holy scripture she held to her chest.
The force she put into it was enough to make one worry the bound pages might come loose. Fortunately, the firmly closed book did not fly apart, and so the catastrophic outcome of the impassioned speech’s persuasiveness plummeting to the depths was averted.
「Ahem, ahem. I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away. It’s a habit of mine. Whether it’s a good habit or a bad one depends on how I conduct myself from here on out.」
Thus, to me—who had been pointlessly fretting over the book—the woman who had been delivering the speech said so with a bashful little cough.
It was a way of reflecting on her own conduct that, even as she repented, stood out for its oddly forward-looking tone.
It carried a strength that declared, good or bad, it all depends on how she comports herself from here on out—a way of thinking one couldn’t help but like. Though it was, to be sure, a complicated kind of liking.
「――――」
The one I glanced at out of the corner of my eye was a beautiful woman clad in a nuns' habit.
Claiming to be a sister of the 『Divine Dragon Church』, she first held talks with the 『Council of Sages』 at the royal castle, then visited this villa of the Karsten family in the royal capital.
The purpose of her visit was astonishing, and the shock of it has yet to fade. But the shock she brought did not stop at that purpose alone.
A sister with long, golden hair and a strong-willed light in her red eyes. Those physical traits, and above all the name she gave—Filore—brought a shock to this old frame to rival the very purpose of her visit.
「...Saying this makes me feel self-conscious, so I hesitate, but when you stare at me like that, I get flustered. ...I get flustered. Quite a bit.」
「— My apologies. I was somewhat discourteous.」
「No, I don’t mean to reproach you. It’s just that, as someone still green, when faced with the gaze of the one called the 'Sword Demon' I can’t help but feel... awe... fear... danger to my person? Ugh, anyway, something that really deserves a more flattering turn of phrase.」
So, to Filore, who overlooked the rudeness of his gaze, the 'Sword Demon'—Wilhelm, so called by that epithet—bowed quietly in thanks.
The intent contained in his thanks was twofold: for the stare that had made her shrink back, and for keeping her waiting so long. After all, it had already been over an hour since Filore had visited this manor.
During that time, Wilhelm could not make small talk to fill the gaps, and Filore, who disliked silence, ended up, as at the beginning, casting about for topics. To cover the awkwardness, she kept asking for more tea; by now, she was on her sixth cup.
That said, the real reason the conversation failed to expand was not solely Wilhelm’s lack of eloquence. The double shock brought by Filore’s visit had greatly shaken his heart and robbed him of his composure; that was the main reason.
In practice, how should he treat Filore? Seeking that answer, Wilhelm looked to the person standing by the wall behind her.
The tall, powerfully built man who had accompanied Filore to this manor—
「—Captain of the Guard, Marcos Gildark.」
「Yes.」
Called by name by Wilhelm, the big man clad in silvery armor—Marcos—who had kept silent, straightened his already-straight back even further and replied.
It was only a single word of reply, but it carried the sense of a massive boulder shifting, and within the weighty tone one could feel unmistakable respect.
To the consideration contained in that tone, Wilhelm slowly shook his head.
「Please, there is no need to be so formal. It was more than ten years ago that I was Captain of the Guard. Compared to you, who now lead the Kingdom Knights, I am an old man hardly worth comparing.」
「An old man? You must be joking.」
So he appraised Wilhelm’s remark, and a faint smile surfaced on Marcos’s rocklike features.
He may have taken it as modesty, but that is Wilhelm’s unvarnished self-assessment. He strives to regain the keen edge of his former sword arm, yet the results he hopes for do not readily take hold in his aged body.
At this rate, he is still a long way from fulfilling the reason an old soldier cannot lay down his sword.
「At the very least, I have recovered enough that the sitting Captain of the Guard calls it a joke. In that sense, I suppose I can call it a stroke of luck.」
It goes without saying, but being appointed captain of the Royal Guard is reserved for the foremost talents in the kingdom.
He has no intention of self-praise, but just as Wilhelm once was, Marcos is likewise a man whose strength befits that position—indeed, one of the most formidable across generations. Though overshadowed by Wilhelm, whose exploits draw attention, and by Reinhard, the strongest 'Sword Saint' in history, the present prowess of the Kingdom Knights is thanks to the ability of the man who leads them.
For that reason, among captains throughout history, Wilhelm judges Marcos to be the one most suited to the role. Of course, from his perspective, the evaluation of Wilhelm—who left his post prioritizing personal grudge over loyalty—would be worthless prattle.
In any case, what Wilhelm wants to discuss here is not tales of trials shared by Captains of the Guard of different generations. It is something more serious and grave.
It is—
「—May I take it that the Council of Sages has already grasped the situation?」
「Naturally. We take it to be an extraordinary situation. That is our understanding.」
「That would... inevitably be so.」
Even with Wilhelm’s subject left unspoken, when he sought confirmation, Marcos did not play dumb by asking what he meant.
Whether that response was guided more by his character or his position is unclear, but for Wilhelm it confirmed that the Council of Sages must have felt the same shock he had, and he let out a breath.
「The same name as Lady Filore Lugunica, daughter of Prince Ford Lugunica.」
The murmur that spilled out with his sigh carried a feeling that was neither relief nor lament, and Wilhelm himself could not make sense of his emotions. And as noted above, this was not limited to Wilhelm; the Council of Sages and everyone who took part in the discussions at the royal castle felt the same.
For a girl had suddenly appeared who bore the physical traits of the Lugunica royal family, and even a name that matched exactly that of Filore Lugunica—who disappeared fifteen years ago.
「――――」
Peeking at Filore as she sipped her seventh cup of tea to disguise her idleness, Wilhelm searched her profile for vestiges of the royal family preserved in his Memory.
If you say it’s there, it’s there; if you say it’s not, that would pass as well—there’s only a vague impression.
To begin with, the princess disappeared when she was still an infant, and any estimate of how far she might have grown if she had survived remains mere conjecture.――However, if she is of the parentage Wilhelm and the others imagine, that would be a grave issue that would shake the kingdom to its core.
It would imperil the very continuation of the Royal Selection, and, depending on the designs of the Divine Dragon Church, it would not be an exaggeration to call it a seed of calamity that could even invite the kingdom’s division.
So much so that no one can even imagine what that seed would sprout into, what kind of flower it would bloom.
Even so, there is something that can be stated clearly at this point.
There are two Royal Selection camps that will be greatly affected by Filore’s existence and by her proposal as the representative of the Divine Dragon Church.――Needless to say, one of them is the Crusch camp, to which Wilhelm also belongs.
「――Crusch-sama」
Closing his eyes, Wilhelm thinks of the liege who extended a saving hand to him.
One of the candidates in the Royal Selection and one of the kingdom’s foremost women of talent, heir to Duke Karsten’s family, she was an irreplaceable benefactor to Wilhelm, who had pursued the White Whale, the slayer of his wife. Even now, his unshakable belief that she alone is fit to be king is not solely due to that debt of gratitude.
Crusch’s stance, character, and way of being—those values and that bearing, fierce and keen like a polished sword—are precisely why Wilhelm can truly wish to see her seated on the throne.
Even though she fell into the clutches of 『Gluttony』 and her 『Memory』 was lost, nothing could strip from her the single-minded nobility and steadfast sincerity within.
In other words, it can be believed to be the very radiance of the soul she was born with.
Therefore, that further calamity should befall such a liege was Wilhelm’s bitter heartbreak, a painful experience that thrust upon him a helplessness like being torn apart.
And yet, to be able to rue his own mistakes and lament his misjudgments and lack of strength—by that measure, it was still the lesser misery.
「――Felis」
The next name he spoke was, so far as Wilhelm knew, that of the gallant knight who, since the Royal Selection began, had spent his days most tormented by regret and helplessness.
「――――」
Right now, the reason Wilhelm is keeping their visitors, Filore and Marcos, waiting is none other than Felis. While Wilhelm and the others spend stagnant time in the parlor, Felis is in Crusch’s bedchamber, the two of them alone together.
Wilhelm grits his teeth at how grievous, how racked with suffering, that time must be.
It is a hardship that makes him want to pray he could take his place, if only he could.
But Wilhelm cannot serve as a substitute.――No; not only Wilhelm—no one can take over the role Felis must play now.
A decision only Felis can make, a choice permitted only to Felis, lies there.
Wilhelm, Filore, and even Marcos can do nothing but quietly keep waiting for that decision and that choice to be made.
There is no need to fret. Everyone had a premonition that it would not take long.
And in fact, that is how it turned out.
「――Sorry to have kept you waiting」
Saying so in a pained voice, Felis stepped into the parlor.
He must have made an effort. Even so, there were tracks of tears on Felis’s white cheeks, and in his wavering golden eyes there still lingered, indelible, a deep conflict whose traces could not be wiped away.
His slender shoulders drooped, and his cat ears and tail—signs of a demi-human throwback—hung limp with exhaustion; Wilhelm hesitated to find words to say to him.
He couldn’t ask something as glib as “How did it go?” Then, “It’s not your fault”? How could he possibly have the gall to say such a thing? Moreover, if he were to say, “It couldn’t be helped,” he’d want to lop off his own head.
There were no words he could say. Any and every word would be a blade to Felis as he was now. Of those, the silence he could choose was the least cutting, the shortest blade.
「I won’t make an issue of how much time it took. I believe I understand the weight of the responsibility you must bear. …It may be nothing but cold comfort, though」
「…Yeah. But that comfort helps. I’m at my limit right now」
In place of the silent Wilhelm, Felis answered Filore, who had spoken to him.
His usual playful, impish banter was nowhere to be heard, and his feeble smile had a fragility like sugarwork that seemed ready to crumble at a touch.
Even though she must have keenly felt that, Filore went on speaking.
As if to postpone the moment when Felis, who looked ready to break at any moment, would reach that point,
「Let me hear your answer.――Your answer.」
Gently extending her hand, Filore fixed those red eyes on Felis and asked. Meeting that gaze head-on, Felis’s thin lips trembled.
Hesitation arose, yet it had no power to halt Blue’s loyal devotion—
"—Please. I’m not the one. Help Crusch-sama."
That was the answer of Felis—Felix Argyle of Blue, first knight of Crusch Karsten—to the hand Filore of the Divine Dragon Church had extended.
△▼△▼△▼△
"—Is that for real?"
They heard that a countermeasure would be applied to the baleful toxin tormenting Crusch, who had been brought to the Karsten family’s villa in the royal capital, right in the midst of a brief moment of respite after exchanging a promise of friendship with Felt, who had come to visit the Prince’s Manor.
"We don’t know anything for certain, but it seems talks involving the Divine Dragon Church were held at the royal castle. Apparently, the Church has some kind of response for Duke Karsten’s body, which suffered at the hands of the Sin Archbishop of ‘Lust.’"
"Some kind of countermeasure… does that mean they can heal Crusch-san’s body? By a method different from the one that made Subaru’s hand go all black?"
"Unfortunately, I don’t have the details…"
"Then we can’t sit around dithering. —Reinhard, run to the castle and find out what they were talking about."
"Understood."
While Emilia was still taken aback by Otto’s report as he returned with tea, Felt made a swift decision, and Reinhard, acting on her order, immediately flew off to the castle.
Watching Reinhard’s figure grow small as he leaped out the window, Emilia murmured under her breath, "Divine Dragon Church…" and then,
"They’re people who really, really believe in Volcanica, right? But I thought they had a policy of staying out of the kingdom’s politics and not coming near the castle."
"And yet they showed their mugs at the castle, breaking their own damn rules. …If they can do something about Crusch-aneechan’s body, that’s great and all, but in that case they should’ve said so a lot sooner."
"We can’t know the Divine Dragon Church’s intentions. As it stands, this is still unverified information. However—"
As the conversation grew more laden with confusion, Otto shut his mouth as if lost in thought. Seeing this, Emilia tilted her head and said, "Otto-kun?" He shook his head and,
"No, it’s not something I should say when nothing is definite yet. For now, let’s wait for Reinhard to return."
"…Really? All right. If you feel like telling us, be sure to let us hear it, okay."
"Whether the green-haired guy feels like talking or not, that bastard Reinhard won’t keep us waiting long. Tch, this is so damn aggravating."
Arms folded, toe tapping the floor, Felt muttered this, growing impatient.
Standing beside Felt as she gazed out the window, Emilia gently drew her head in, and rather than the castle Reinhard had headed to, she searched for Crusch’s manor in the same noble district.
Since parting in Pristella, they hadn’t been able to confirm Crusch’s safety. A dull ache throbbed in her chest with the guilt of not bringing back immediately useful good news from the Pleiades Watchtower. If, as Otto had overheard, the Divine Dragon Church could save Crusch—
"It doesn’t have to be us at all. So…"
"—He’s here!"
Felt’s spirited voice drowned out Emilia, who had been about to murmur a prayer.
As when he’d departed for the castle, Reinhard returned to the Prince’s Manor in a single bound. Before Emilia and the others, who ran to the window, he touched down softly so as not to tear up the lawn.
And then—
"Felt-sama, it’s an urgent matter. Will you accompany me to the castle?"
"Huh? Why the castle? More importantly, what about what we were just talking about…"
"—Felt-sama."
Reinhard cut Felt off, calling her name briefly. At the keenness in his demeanor, Felt narrowed her red eyes and clicked her tongue, "Tch."
"Got it. I’m heading to the castle. What about you guys, Emilia-neechan and the rest?"
"We’ve confirmed Otto’s report. It’s true that the Divine Dragon Church has gone to Crusch-sama’s manor. As for there—"
"We’ll go. I can’t just sit still!"
Hearing that Otto’s news had been correct, Emilia thumped a fist against her own chest.
She was terribly worried about Crusch, and if Felt had to go to the castle, Emilia intended to shoulder her share of the worry as well and go pay a visit.
Of course, there was also a good chance they’d be turned away in the chaos, but…
"As far as paying a visit goes, yes. Leave this side to us. …It sounds like we’ll need to head to the castle later as well."
"Right. Best if you assume that. Felt-sama."
"I get it without you calling me over and over."
Snorting at the hand Reinhard held out, Felt then lightly hopped onto the window frame, turned back to call, "Emilia-neechan," and, before throwing herself into his arms,
"The night before Pristella got wrecked, I promised I'd talk more with Crusch-aneechan. So…"
"—! Yes, leave it to me! I'll make sure to tell Crusch-san that Felt-chan was suuuper worried!"
"Hah. Not sure making the Royal Selection all buddy-buddy is such a great idea."
Shrugging at the resolute Emilia, Felt jumped into Reinhard's arms. Receiving her with courtly care, Reinhard adjusted his hold on her, flicked a glance at Emilia and the others for just an instant—then, with another leap, he shot straight toward the castle.
"Good grief, he's off the charts. Let's be human about it and hurry on our own two feet."
"If I really try, maybe I could scoop up Otto-kun and boing—just fly there…"
"Please, do that for Natsuki-san instead of me. — Let's hurry."
"Right!"
Nodding at Otto's urging, Emilia hurried out into the streets of the royal capital as well.
Their destination was Karsten Manor—the very road they had once rushed down, anxious for Crusch and the others after they were attacked and hurt on the return from the White Whale’s defeat—now they ran it even faster, chafed by impatience.
And then—
△▼△▼△▼△
"—Felis!"
Arriving there out of breath, Emilia caught sight of Felis kneeling as if in prayer, and before she knew it she was calling his name in a voice that was almost a scream.
At Emilia's voice, flaxen cat ears quivered, and timidly, Felis looked back.
"…Emilia-sama?"
"Yes, that's right. I haven't heard everything, but I've been told. I'm sorry it took me so long to come."
At Felis’s feeble voice, Emilia felt a piercing ache, a creak deep in her chest.
Felis was always cute and full of lively energy, yet seeing him again like this after so long, he looked unbearably pained and fragile, as if he might disappear at any moment.
Wanting only to keep him from slipping away, Emilia embraced his slender body without hesitation.
"—You'll get tears and snot on you."
"That doesn't bother me at all. It's nothing. Leaving Felis alone over something like that would hurt so, so much more."
"—!"
Careful not to squeeze him too tightly, Emilia wished that the warmth of her body, and her concern for the Felis before her and for Crusch, would be conveyed.
Behind Emilia and Felis, the tread upon the carpet belonged to Wilhelm, who had seen to them. Though they had rushed to the manor in a fluster, Wilhelm hadn’t turned them away at the gate, but had let them inside like this.
Casting a quick glance, Otto, who had arrived a bit after Emilia, looked toward Wilhelm,
"I know it's a bit much to say when we're the ones who came calling, but was this really all right? In this situation…?"
"It may be my own decision, but it is precisely because of this situation. Right now, having even one person who can sincerely pray for Crusch-sama’s safety is heartening."
"…Indeed, in that respect, Emilia-sama’s presence will be significant."
Otto and the others were exchanging words behind her, but none of it reached Emilia’s ears. For now, she wanted to devote her whole being to the Felis in her arms. Holding that weak, painfully trembling body, Emilia gently stroked his back,
"Felis, how is Crusch-san…?"
"—Inside. In that room, they’re treating her now…"
"——"
The door Felis, held in her arms, indicated with his gaze was the one before which he had been kneeling in prayer—in Emilia’s memory, that had been the bedchamber.
There was little doubt it was the room where Crusch lay, and where the treatment was being performed.
And yet, the reason Felis was out here in the hall like this—
"—They say it is a secret rite of the Divine Dragon Church, not to be revealed to outsiders."
Emilia was surprised that the reply came from the massive figure standing quietly in the corridor like a statue. Looking, she saw it was the Captain of the Guard whom she had seen many times at the royal castle.
Perhaps the Captain of the Guard had hurried here out of concern for Crusch. Or perhaps he was on good terms with Felis and was here through that connection.
In any case—
"A secret rite… Will that be able to save Crusch-san?"
"I-I don't know… But, but, there’s no other way… b-because I… I… I’m useless…!"
"That’s not true…!"
She wanted to say it loudly: that’s not true. In fact, the Emilia from a little while ago would no doubt have blurted it out without thinking.
But now she understood that saying it without thinking, just riding the momentum, would not truly encourage or comfort Felis.
Felis is amazing. Truly—remarkably—he is someone who possesses a very gentle, special power.
But Felis cannot use that power, which Emilia respects from the bottom of her heart, for Crusch, the one he holds most dear. Faced with such a truly painful, agonizing, helpless reality—seeing him trembling and shedding so many tears—there is no way Emilia can just speak without thinking.
"It's okay, it's okay."
So Emilia swallows the words she had been about to say and gently embraces Felis. She keeps holding him. She keeps holding him and keeps staying by his side.
Because when the helplessness of being unable to do anything threatened to freeze her, that was the thing that made her happiest when someone did it for her; so she does the same now.
"—Hang in there, Crusch-san."
Supporting Felis, who is sobbing and trembling, Emilia prays.
Standing close, praying for Crusch's safety, Emilia can tell that behind them, Otto, Wilhelm, and the Captain of the Guard are praying as well.
Someone from the Divine Dragon Church, whose face they don't even know, is struggling on the other side of the door.
To save Crusch, who fought for the people and ended up grievously wounded.
They pray, and pray, and pray that those efforts will reach her, and then at last—
"—You may come in."
At the voice that suddenly came from beyond the door, Emilia lifted her head as if startled.
At the exhausted woman's voice—at what she said—Felis, in Emilia's arms, flinched and looked up at Emilia's face as if he couldn't believe it.
Their single-minded prayer had been cut off so abruptly that Felis's mind couldn't catch up to reality.
"Can you stand?"
"Y-yes, I—I can stand..."
Ahead of Felis, Emilia stood and lent him her arm to help him up. His slender knees trembled unsteadily, but with his round eyes on the door, Felis exhaled and set one foot, then another.
Supporting Felis's shoulder as he did so, Emilia also headed for the door. Then, in place of Felis, whose whole body wouldn't stop shaking, she turned the doorknob.
With a sound, the door opened; beyond it was a bedroom. In the center of the room stood a bed; a woman was laid upon it, and her figure—
"—Ah."
A hoarse breath escaped him, and, walking like in a dream, Felis stepped forward. Those frail legs looked as if they would tangle at any moment and send him sprawling.
But that didn't happen. Unconsciously shaking off Emilia's supporting hand, Felis all but fell toward the bed—to Crusch, who lay there.
"Crusch-sama... Crusch-sama... Crusch-samaaa...!"
Listening to his taut, tear-choked voice call the name of his beloved over and over, Emilia, too, stepped to the middle of the room and looked at Crusch, whom Felis was gazing at.
After spending a long time bedridden—even though her daily care had never been neglected—Crusch's beautiful features had grown gaunt, and her skin was as pale as a sick person's. —And yet, the foul poison that had once spread like roots across her face, neck, and body was nowhere to be seen on any of the skin revealed.
"Prayers are heard."
"—And you are?"
When Emilia, standing beside Felis clinging to the bed, turned around, she saw on the far side of the bed the figure of a blonde woman sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out.
She was an affiliate of the Divine Dragon Church who had tried a method to save Crusch. Breathing heavy with exhaustion and with sweat beading on her brow, the woman nevertheless let her lips curve into a smile,
"The holy scripture says this as well: 'The salvation of one is wrought by the prayers of the many. It is in sharing that the dragon's grace is made greatest.'"
"—Th-thank you."
"This much is a cinch. ...It's only natural."
Wearing a valiant smile, the woman tightened her expression and immediately corrected herself. Deeply grateful for her efforts, Emilia crouched down and put an arm around Felis's shoulders.
Supporting the trembling, tearful Felis, she rejoiced from the bottom of her heart that their prayer had been answered.
"Crusch-san, when you wake up, there's sooo much I want to talk about. There's a message from Felt-chan, and I have lots to say too."
With the hideous traces of the foul poison erased from her face, eyes closed, Crusch slept. Facing that sleeping face, Emilia spoke, longing for the moment she would awaken.
Once you wake up, there are so many things I want to talk about. Among them are some of my own selfish wishes—after getting a taste for it with Anastasia and Felt.
So—
"Thank you so, so much for working so hard."
With that, Emilia's eyes softened as she gave thanks to everyone present.
△▼△▼△▼△
"————"
Witnessing the sacrament of the Divine Dragon Church take effect before his very eyes, Otto watched Felis clinging to his lady, who lay on the bed, and Emilia supporting him.
「Crusch-sama, thank goodness... thank goodness...」
Likewise, Wilhelm, upon seeing that sight, was overcome with emotion; his voice trembled.
It was proof that even he—hailed as the 'Sword Demon' and famed for his legendary sword prowess—had been pained by his inability to aid his liege in her time of torment, his heart worn thin.
While it could not be compared with Felis, her first knight who had devoted many years of loyalty, even so, one could see relief and gratitude seeping into Wilhelm's heart.
And to no small extent, the same was true for Otto.
Just before this, as he happened to look back together with Reinhard, the shock of Priscilla's death had struck Otto as well. All the more, he felt genuine relief that Crusch—who had suffered deep wounds in that battle in the Watergate City—had been saved.
Thank goodness. Truly, thank goodness.
At the same time, he also became convinced of a possibility he could not let Emilia hear.
It was—
「—Duke Crusch Karsten's Royal Selection ends here」
It was a conviction whispered only under his breath—that, at least here and now, in this place where Crusch's safety and recovery were being celebrated with tears, there was no need to let anyone hear it.
When we first met, he was still a boy, and the impression he gave as a person has hardly changed since those days—he remained childlike.
Cheerful, innocent, and carefree; you never knew what he would do or say in the next second, keeping everyone around him on edge.
But no matter how much he ran you ragged, he had a charm that kept you from minding.
We had been together for ten years.
Ten years of one unpredictable second after another; a lot happened.
There were surely more than a few things we could never simply laugh off.
Yet, looking back, I find I can even speak of such events with a laugh.
And at the heart of those memories told with a smile was his smile, bright as the sun.
Let me confess without any affectation. —I loved Fourier Lugunica.
From the day we met to this very day, not once has that feeling wavered.
No matter what words Fourier spoke to me, what feelings he hurled at me, what events we shared, what times we spent, what future we dreamed of, what bitter betrayals we suffered, or what tragedies tore my heart apart, my affection for him has never once wavered—never.
Surely, he would never let his smile fade, no matter the circumstances. He would not lose hope.
In fact, to the very, very end he remained noble, pure, and steadfast.
I respect him for it from the bottom of my heart. I revere him. I hold him dear.
So—,
「—Your Highness, please, forgive me」
This decision, this resignation, is by no means the result of my love for you having faded.
△▼△▼△▼△
—『Divine Dragon Church』, as its name suggests, is a sect that venerates the 『Divine Dragon』 Volcanica, who entered into a covenant with the kingdom, and reveres its power and blessings.
Its founding goes back some four hundred years, to the era of the covenant that led to the Lugunica Kingdom being called the Parent Dragon Kingdom, so it is fair to call it a venerable organization with a long history.
In fact, the 『Divine Dragon Church』 has admonished itself against expanding its influence and has continued to keep a certain distance from the kingdom’s core—the royal family and the royal castle. That, in short, was proof that the 『Divine Dragon Church』 sought no more power than necessary and defined itself simply as an anchor for faith.
Therefore, even when the Lugunica royal family was wiped out by a deadly disease and the Royal Selection to decide the next monarch began, the 『Divine Dragon Church』 did not undertake active intervention toward the kingdom.
「—And yet, we no longer have the leisure to say such things at ease. Ever since I heard of the Witch Cult’s outrages in Watergate City, my patience has been pushed closer to its limit by the day.」
「――――」
「Of course, the proper target of this anger is the Witch Cult, who treated the common folk so cruelly. But smoking them out and punishing them thoroughly is exceedingly difficult…… or rather, even if we did punish them, it would not save those who suffered. In all things, there are priorities.」
「――――」
「Punishment must never take precedence over salvation. The holy scripture says as much: 『Punishment without salvation is an empty lightning; the dragon first spreads its wings and tenderly enfolds the small lives.』 That is the optimal answer in humanitarian terms that I believe in……!」
Having so declaimed at the top of her voice, the woman snapped shut the thick holy scripture she held to her chest.
The force she put into it was enough to make one worry the bound pages might come loose. Fortunately, the firmly closed book did not fly apart, and so the catastrophic outcome of the impassioned speech’s persuasiveness plummeting to the depths was averted.
「Ahem, ahem. I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away. It’s a habit of mine. Whether it’s a good habit or a bad one depends on how I conduct myself from here on out.」
Thus, to me—who had been pointlessly fretting over the book—the woman who had been delivering the speech said so with a bashful little cough.
It was a way of reflecting on her own conduct that, even as she repented, stood out for its oddly forward-looking tone.
It carried a strength that declared, good or bad, it all depends on how she comports herself from here on out—a way of thinking one couldn’t help but like. Though it was, to be sure, a complicated kind of liking.
「――――」
The one I glanced at out of the corner of my eye was a beautiful woman clad in a nuns' habit.
Claiming to be a sister of the 『Divine Dragon Church』, she first held talks with the 『Council of Sages』 at the royal castle, then visited this villa of the Karsten family in the royal capital.
The purpose of her visit was astonishing, and the shock of it has yet to fade. But the shock she brought did not stop at that purpose alone.
A sister with long, golden hair and a strong-willed light in her red eyes. Those physical traits, and above all the name she gave—Filore—brought a shock to this old frame to rival the very purpose of her visit.
「...Saying this makes me feel self-conscious, so I hesitate, but when you stare at me like that, I get flustered. ...I get flustered. Quite a bit.」
「— My apologies. I was somewhat discourteous.」
「No, I don’t mean to reproach you. It’s just that, as someone still green, when faced with the gaze of the one called the 'Sword Demon' I can’t help but feel... awe... fear... danger to my person? Ugh, anyway, something that really deserves a more flattering turn of phrase.」
So, to Filore, who overlooked the rudeness of his gaze, the 'Sword Demon'—Wilhelm, so called by that epithet—bowed quietly in thanks.
The intent contained in his thanks was twofold: for the stare that had made her shrink back, and for keeping her waiting so long. After all, it had already been over an hour since Filore had visited this manor.
During that time, Wilhelm could not make small talk to fill the gaps, and Filore, who disliked silence, ended up, as at the beginning, casting about for topics. To cover the awkwardness, she kept asking for more tea; by now, she was on her sixth cup.
That said, the real reason the conversation failed to expand was not solely Wilhelm’s lack of eloquence. The double shock brought by Filore’s visit had greatly shaken his heart and robbed him of his composure; that was the main reason.
In practice, how should he treat Filore? Seeking that answer, Wilhelm looked to the person standing by the wall behind her.
The tall, powerfully built man who had accompanied Filore to this manor—
「—Captain of the Guard, Marcos Gildark.」
「Yes.」
Called by name by Wilhelm, the big man clad in silvery armor—Marcos—who had kept silent, straightened his already-straight back even further and replied.
It was only a single word of reply, but it carried the sense of a massive boulder shifting, and within the weighty tone one could feel unmistakable respect.
To the consideration contained in that tone, Wilhelm slowly shook his head.
「Please, there is no need to be so formal. It was more than ten years ago that I was Captain of the Guard. Compared to you, who now lead the Kingdom Knights, I am an old man hardly worth comparing.」
「An old man? You must be joking.」
So he appraised Wilhelm’s remark, and a faint smile surfaced on Marcos’s rocklike features.
He may have taken it as modesty, but that is Wilhelm’s unvarnished self-assessment. He strives to regain the keen edge of his former sword arm, yet the results he hopes for do not readily take hold in his aged body.
At this rate, he is still a long way from fulfilling the reason an old soldier cannot lay down his sword.
「At the very least, I have recovered enough that the sitting Captain of the Guard calls it a joke. In that sense, I suppose I can call it a stroke of luck.」
It goes without saying, but being appointed captain of the Royal Guard is reserved for the foremost talents in the kingdom.
He has no intention of self-praise, but just as Wilhelm once was, Marcos is likewise a man whose strength befits that position—indeed, one of the most formidable across generations. Though overshadowed by Wilhelm, whose exploits draw attention, and by Reinhard, the strongest 'Sword Saint' in history, the present prowess of the Kingdom Knights is thanks to the ability of the man who leads them.
For that reason, among captains throughout history, Wilhelm judges Marcos to be the one most suited to the role. Of course, from his perspective, the evaluation of Wilhelm—who left his post prioritizing personal grudge over loyalty—would be worthless prattle.
In any case, what Wilhelm wants to discuss here is not tales of trials shared by Captains of the Guard of different generations. It is something more serious and grave.
It is—
「—May I take it that the Council of Sages has already grasped the situation?」
「Naturally. We take it to be an extraordinary situation. That is our understanding.」
「That would... inevitably be so.」
Even with Wilhelm’s subject left unspoken, when he sought confirmation, Marcos did not play dumb by asking what he meant.
Whether that response was guided more by his character or his position is unclear, but for Wilhelm it confirmed that the Council of Sages must have felt the same shock he had, and he let out a breath.
「The same name as Lady Filore Lugunica, daughter of Prince Ford Lugunica.」
The murmur that spilled out with his sigh carried a feeling that was neither relief nor lament, and Wilhelm himself could not make sense of his emotions. And as noted above, this was not limited to Wilhelm; the Council of Sages and everyone who took part in the discussions at the royal castle felt the same.
For a girl had suddenly appeared who bore the physical traits of the Lugunica royal family, and even a name that matched exactly that of Filore Lugunica—who disappeared fifteen years ago.
「――――」
Peeking at Filore as she sipped her seventh cup of tea to disguise her idleness, Wilhelm searched her profile for vestiges of the royal family preserved in his Memory.
If you say it’s there, it’s there; if you say it’s not, that would pass as well—there’s only a vague impression.
To begin with, the princess disappeared when she was still an infant, and any estimate of how far she might have grown if she had survived remains mere conjecture.――However, if she is of the parentage Wilhelm and the others imagine, that would be a grave issue that would shake the kingdom to its core.
It would imperil the very continuation of the Royal Selection, and, depending on the designs of the Divine Dragon Church, it would not be an exaggeration to call it a seed of calamity that could even invite the kingdom’s division.
So much so that no one can even imagine what that seed would sprout into, what kind of flower it would bloom.
Even so, there is something that can be stated clearly at this point.
There are two Royal Selection camps that will be greatly affected by Filore’s existence and by her proposal as the representative of the Divine Dragon Church.――Needless to say, one of them is the Crusch camp, to which Wilhelm also belongs.
「――Crusch-sama」
Closing his eyes, Wilhelm thinks of the liege who extended a saving hand to him.
One of the candidates in the Royal Selection and one of the kingdom’s foremost women of talent, heir to Duke Karsten’s family, she was an irreplaceable benefactor to Wilhelm, who had pursued the White Whale, the slayer of his wife. Even now, his unshakable belief that she alone is fit to be king is not solely due to that debt of gratitude.
Crusch’s stance, character, and way of being—those values and that bearing, fierce and keen like a polished sword—are precisely why Wilhelm can truly wish to see her seated on the throne.
Even though she fell into the clutches of 『Gluttony』 and her 『Memory』 was lost, nothing could strip from her the single-minded nobility and steadfast sincerity within.
In other words, it can be believed to be the very radiance of the soul she was born with.
Therefore, that further calamity should befall such a liege was Wilhelm’s bitter heartbreak, a painful experience that thrust upon him a helplessness like being torn apart.
And yet, to be able to rue his own mistakes and lament his misjudgments and lack of strength—by that measure, it was still the lesser misery.
「――Felis」
The next name he spoke was, so far as Wilhelm knew, that of the gallant knight who, since the Royal Selection began, had spent his days most tormented by regret and helplessness.
「――――」
Right now, the reason Wilhelm is keeping their visitors, Filore and Marcos, waiting is none other than Felis. While Wilhelm and the others spend stagnant time in the parlor, Felis is in Crusch’s bedchamber, the two of them alone together.
Wilhelm grits his teeth at how grievous, how racked with suffering, that time must be.
It is a hardship that makes him want to pray he could take his place, if only he could.
But Wilhelm cannot serve as a substitute.――No; not only Wilhelm—no one can take over the role Felis must play now.
A decision only Felis can make, a choice permitted only to Felis, lies there.
Wilhelm, Filore, and even Marcos can do nothing but quietly keep waiting for that decision and that choice to be made.
There is no need to fret. Everyone had a premonition that it would not take long.
And in fact, that is how it turned out.
「――Sorry to have kept you waiting」
Saying so in a pained voice, Felis stepped into the parlor.
He must have made an effort. Even so, there were tracks of tears on Felis’s white cheeks, and in his wavering golden eyes there still lingered, indelible, a deep conflict whose traces could not be wiped away.
His slender shoulders drooped, and his cat ears and tail—signs of a demi-human throwback—hung limp with exhaustion; Wilhelm hesitated to find words to say to him.
He couldn’t ask something as glib as “How did it go?” Then, “It’s not your fault”? How could he possibly have the gall to say such a thing? Moreover, if he were to say, “It couldn’t be helped,” he’d want to lop off his own head.
There were no words he could say. Any and every word would be a blade to Felis as he was now. Of those, the silence he could choose was the least cutting, the shortest blade.
「I won’t make an issue of how much time it took. I believe I understand the weight of the responsibility you must bear. …It may be nothing but cold comfort, though」
「…Yeah. But that comfort helps. I’m at my limit right now」
In place of the silent Wilhelm, Felis answered Filore, who had spoken to him.
His usual playful, impish banter was nowhere to be heard, and his feeble smile had a fragility like sugarwork that seemed ready to crumble at a touch.
Even though she must have keenly felt that, Filore went on speaking.
As if to postpone the moment when Felis, who looked ready to break at any moment, would reach that point,
「Let me hear your answer.――Your answer.」
Gently extending her hand, Filore fixed those red eyes on Felis and asked. Meeting that gaze head-on, Felis’s thin lips trembled.
Hesitation arose, yet it had no power to halt Blue’s loyal devotion—
"—Please. I’m not the one. Help Crusch-sama."
That was the answer of Felis—Felix Argyle of Blue, first knight of Crusch Karsten—to the hand Filore of the Divine Dragon Church had extended.
△▼△▼△▼△
"—Is that for real?"
They heard that a countermeasure would be applied to the baleful toxin tormenting Crusch, who had been brought to the Karsten family’s villa in the royal capital, right in the midst of a brief moment of respite after exchanging a promise of friendship with Felt, who had come to visit the Prince’s Manor.
"We don’t know anything for certain, but it seems talks involving the Divine Dragon Church were held at the royal castle. Apparently, the Church has some kind of response for Duke Karsten’s body, which suffered at the hands of the Sin Archbishop of ‘Lust.’"
"Some kind of countermeasure… does that mean they can heal Crusch-san’s body? By a method different from the one that made Subaru’s hand go all black?"
"Unfortunately, I don’t have the details…"
"Then we can’t sit around dithering. —Reinhard, run to the castle and find out what they were talking about."
"Understood."
While Emilia was still taken aback by Otto’s report as he returned with tea, Felt made a swift decision, and Reinhard, acting on her order, immediately flew off to the castle.
Watching Reinhard’s figure grow small as he leaped out the window, Emilia murmured under her breath, "Divine Dragon Church…" and then,
"They’re people who really, really believe in Volcanica, right? But I thought they had a policy of staying out of the kingdom’s politics and not coming near the castle."
"And yet they showed their mugs at the castle, breaking their own damn rules. …If they can do something about Crusch-aneechan’s body, that’s great and all, but in that case they should’ve said so a lot sooner."
"We can’t know the Divine Dragon Church’s intentions. As it stands, this is still unverified information. However—"
As the conversation grew more laden with confusion, Otto shut his mouth as if lost in thought. Seeing this, Emilia tilted her head and said, "Otto-kun?" He shook his head and,
"No, it’s not something I should say when nothing is definite yet. For now, let’s wait for Reinhard to return."
"…Really? All right. If you feel like telling us, be sure to let us hear it, okay."
"Whether the green-haired guy feels like talking or not, that bastard Reinhard won’t keep us waiting long. Tch, this is so damn aggravating."
Arms folded, toe tapping the floor, Felt muttered this, growing impatient.
Standing beside Felt as she gazed out the window, Emilia gently drew her head in, and rather than the castle Reinhard had headed to, she searched for Crusch’s manor in the same noble district.
Since parting in Pristella, they hadn’t been able to confirm Crusch’s safety. A dull ache throbbed in her chest with the guilt of not bringing back immediately useful good news from the Pleiades Watchtower. If, as Otto had overheard, the Divine Dragon Church could save Crusch—
"It doesn’t have to be us at all. So…"
"—He’s here!"
Felt’s spirited voice drowned out Emilia, who had been about to murmur a prayer.
As when he’d departed for the castle, Reinhard returned to the Prince’s Manor in a single bound. Before Emilia and the others, who ran to the window, he touched down softly so as not to tear up the lawn.
And then—
"Felt-sama, it’s an urgent matter. Will you accompany me to the castle?"
"Huh? Why the castle? More importantly, what about what we were just talking about…"
"—Felt-sama."
Reinhard cut Felt off, calling her name briefly. At the keenness in his demeanor, Felt narrowed her red eyes and clicked her tongue, "Tch."
"Got it. I’m heading to the castle. What about you guys, Emilia-neechan and the rest?"
"We’ve confirmed Otto’s report. It’s true that the Divine Dragon Church has gone to Crusch-sama’s manor. As for there—"
"We’ll go. I can’t just sit still!"
Hearing that Otto’s news had been correct, Emilia thumped a fist against her own chest.
She was terribly worried about Crusch, and if Felt had to go to the castle, Emilia intended to shoulder her share of the worry as well and go pay a visit.
Of course, there was also a good chance they’d be turned away in the chaos, but…
"As far as paying a visit goes, yes. Leave this side to us. …It sounds like we’ll need to head to the castle later as well."
"Right. Best if you assume that. Felt-sama."
"I get it without you calling me over and over."
Snorting at the hand Reinhard held out, Felt then lightly hopped onto the window frame, turned back to call, "Emilia-neechan," and, before throwing herself into his arms,
"The night before Pristella got wrecked, I promised I'd talk more with Crusch-aneechan. So…"
"—! Yes, leave it to me! I'll make sure to tell Crusch-san that Felt-chan was suuuper worried!"
"Hah. Not sure making the Royal Selection all buddy-buddy is such a great idea."
Shrugging at the resolute Emilia, Felt jumped into Reinhard's arms. Receiving her with courtly care, Reinhard adjusted his hold on her, flicked a glance at Emilia and the others for just an instant—then, with another leap, he shot straight toward the castle.
"Good grief, he's off the charts. Let's be human about it and hurry on our own two feet."
"If I really try, maybe I could scoop up Otto-kun and boing—just fly there…"
"Please, do that for Natsuki-san instead of me. — Let's hurry."
"Right!"
Nodding at Otto's urging, Emilia hurried out into the streets of the royal capital as well.
Their destination was Karsten Manor—the very road they had once rushed down, anxious for Crusch and the others after they were attacked and hurt on the return from the White Whale’s defeat—now they ran it even faster, chafed by impatience.
And then—
△▼△▼△▼△
"—Felis!"
Arriving there out of breath, Emilia caught sight of Felis kneeling as if in prayer, and before she knew it she was calling his name in a voice that was almost a scream.
At Emilia's voice, flaxen cat ears quivered, and timidly, Felis looked back.
"…Emilia-sama?"
"Yes, that's right. I haven't heard everything, but I've been told. I'm sorry it took me so long to come."
At Felis’s feeble voice, Emilia felt a piercing ache, a creak deep in her chest.
Felis was always cute and full of lively energy, yet seeing him again like this after so long, he looked unbearably pained and fragile, as if he might disappear at any moment.
Wanting only to keep him from slipping away, Emilia embraced his slender body without hesitation.
"—You'll get tears and snot on you."
"That doesn't bother me at all. It's nothing. Leaving Felis alone over something like that would hurt so, so much more."
"—!"
Careful not to squeeze him too tightly, Emilia wished that the warmth of her body, and her concern for the Felis before her and for Crusch, would be conveyed.
Behind Emilia and Felis, the tread upon the carpet belonged to Wilhelm, who had seen to them. Though they had rushed to the manor in a fluster, Wilhelm hadn’t turned them away at the gate, but had let them inside like this.
Casting a quick glance, Otto, who had arrived a bit after Emilia, looked toward Wilhelm,
"I know it's a bit much to say when we're the ones who came calling, but was this really all right? In this situation…?"
"It may be my own decision, but it is precisely because of this situation. Right now, having even one person who can sincerely pray for Crusch-sama’s safety is heartening."
"…Indeed, in that respect, Emilia-sama’s presence will be significant."
Otto and the others were exchanging words behind her, but none of it reached Emilia’s ears. For now, she wanted to devote her whole being to the Felis in her arms. Holding that weak, painfully trembling body, Emilia gently stroked his back,
"Felis, how is Crusch-san…?"
"—Inside. In that room, they’re treating her now…"
"——"
The door Felis, held in her arms, indicated with his gaze was the one before which he had been kneeling in prayer—in Emilia’s memory, that had been the bedchamber.
There was little doubt it was the room where Crusch lay, and where the treatment was being performed.
And yet, the reason Felis was out here in the hall like this—
"—They say it is a secret rite of the Divine Dragon Church, not to be revealed to outsiders."
Emilia was surprised that the reply came from the massive figure standing quietly in the corridor like a statue. Looking, she saw it was the Captain of the Guard whom she had seen many times at the royal castle.
Perhaps the Captain of the Guard had hurried here out of concern for Crusch. Or perhaps he was on good terms with Felis and was here through that connection.
In any case—
"A secret rite… Will that be able to save Crusch-san?"
"I-I don't know… But, but, there’s no other way… b-because I… I… I’m useless…!"
"That’s not true…!"
She wanted to say it loudly: that’s not true. In fact, the Emilia from a little while ago would no doubt have blurted it out without thinking.
But now she understood that saying it without thinking, just riding the momentum, would not truly encourage or comfort Felis.
Felis is amazing. Truly—remarkably—he is someone who possesses a very gentle, special power.
But Felis cannot use that power, which Emilia respects from the bottom of her heart, for Crusch, the one he holds most dear. Faced with such a truly painful, agonizing, helpless reality—seeing him trembling and shedding so many tears—there is no way Emilia can just speak without thinking.
"It's okay, it's okay."
So Emilia swallows the words she had been about to say and gently embraces Felis. She keeps holding him. She keeps holding him and keeps staying by his side.
Because when the helplessness of being unable to do anything threatened to freeze her, that was the thing that made her happiest when someone did it for her; so she does the same now.
"—Hang in there, Crusch-san."
Supporting Felis, who is sobbing and trembling, Emilia prays.
Standing close, praying for Crusch's safety, Emilia can tell that behind them, Otto, Wilhelm, and the Captain of the Guard are praying as well.
Someone from the Divine Dragon Church, whose face they don't even know, is struggling on the other side of the door.
To save Crusch, who fought for the people and ended up grievously wounded.
They pray, and pray, and pray that those efforts will reach her, and then at last—
"—You may come in."
At the voice that suddenly came from beyond the door, Emilia lifted her head as if startled.
At the exhausted woman's voice—at what she said—Felis, in Emilia's arms, flinched and looked up at Emilia's face as if he couldn't believe it.
Their single-minded prayer had been cut off so abruptly that Felis's mind couldn't catch up to reality.
"Can you stand?"
"Y-yes, I—I can stand..."
Ahead of Felis, Emilia stood and lent him her arm to help him up. His slender knees trembled unsteadily, but with his round eyes on the door, Felis exhaled and set one foot, then another.
Supporting Felis's shoulder as he did so, Emilia also headed for the door. Then, in place of Felis, whose whole body wouldn't stop shaking, she turned the doorknob.
With a sound, the door opened; beyond it was a bedroom. In the center of the room stood a bed; a woman was laid upon it, and her figure—
"—Ah."
A hoarse breath escaped him, and, walking like in a dream, Felis stepped forward. Those frail legs looked as if they would tangle at any moment and send him sprawling.
But that didn't happen. Unconsciously shaking off Emilia's supporting hand, Felis all but fell toward the bed—to Crusch, who lay there.
"Crusch-sama... Crusch-sama... Crusch-samaaa...!"
Listening to his taut, tear-choked voice call the name of his beloved over and over, Emilia, too, stepped to the middle of the room and looked at Crusch, whom Felis was gazing at.
After spending a long time bedridden—even though her daily care had never been neglected—Crusch's beautiful features had grown gaunt, and her skin was as pale as a sick person's. —And yet, the foul poison that had once spread like roots across her face, neck, and body was nowhere to be seen on any of the skin revealed.
"Prayers are heard."
"—And you are?"
When Emilia, standing beside Felis clinging to the bed, turned around, she saw on the far side of the bed the figure of a blonde woman sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out.
She was an affiliate of the Divine Dragon Church who had tried a method to save Crusch. Breathing heavy with exhaustion and with sweat beading on her brow, the woman nevertheless let her lips curve into a smile,
"The holy scripture says this as well: 'The salvation of one is wrought by the prayers of the many. It is in sharing that the dragon's grace is made greatest.'"
"—Th-thank you."
"This much is a cinch. ...It's only natural."
Wearing a valiant smile, the woman tightened her expression and immediately corrected herself. Deeply grateful for her efforts, Emilia crouched down and put an arm around Felis's shoulders.
Supporting the trembling, tearful Felis, she rejoiced from the bottom of her heart that their prayer had been answered.
"Crusch-san, when you wake up, there's sooo much I want to talk about. There's a message from Felt-chan, and I have lots to say too."
With the hideous traces of the foul poison erased from her face, eyes closed, Crusch slept. Facing that sleeping face, Emilia spoke, longing for the moment she would awaken.
Once you wake up, there are so many things I want to talk about. Among them are some of my own selfish wishes—after getting a taste for it with Anastasia and Felt.
So—
"Thank you so, so much for working so hard."
With that, Emilia's eyes softened as she gave thanks to everyone present.
△▼△▼△▼△
"————"
Witnessing the sacrament of the Divine Dragon Church take effect before his very eyes, Otto watched Felis clinging to his lady, who lay on the bed, and Emilia supporting him.
「Crusch-sama, thank goodness... thank goodness...」
Likewise, Wilhelm, upon seeing that sight, was overcome with emotion; his voice trembled.
It was proof that even he—hailed as the 'Sword Demon' and famed for his legendary sword prowess—had been pained by his inability to aid his liege in her time of torment, his heart worn thin.
While it could not be compared with Felis, her first knight who had devoted many years of loyalty, even so, one could see relief and gratitude seeping into Wilhelm's heart.
And to no small extent, the same was true for Otto.
Just before this, as he happened to look back together with Reinhard, the shock of Priscilla's death had struck Otto as well. All the more, he felt genuine relief that Crusch—who had suffered deep wounds in that battle in the Watergate City—had been saved.
Thank goodness. Truly, thank goodness.
At the same time, he also became convinced of a possibility he could not let Emilia hear.
It was—
「—Duke Crusch Karsten's Royal Selection ends here」
It was a conviction whispered only under his breath—that, at least here and now, in this place where Crusch's safety and recovery were being celebrated with tears, there was no need to let anyone hear it.
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