The mental preparation Subaru had made for traveling using Reinhard turned out to be useless in more ways than one.
"There might be a bit of discomfort at first, but you should get used to it soon enough."
That was the preamble Reinhard gave before doing what he did: he casually hoisted the dragon carriage—
"Bwahahahahahah!"
The scenery outside the window blurred past at tremendous speed, yet somehow the carriage experienced almost no shaking—a visual bug born from the combination of extreme velocity and zero turbulence. Clinging to each other, Subaru and
He wasn't entirely ignorant of the principle. Essentially, it was the same thing as the divine blessing of Wind Resistance that earth dragons possessed. The only problem was that Reinhard, the one producing this effect, was human—and was running at speeds that made the concept of common sense laughable.
"I had this done to me once before, I did. Big Brother Subaru and the rest of you get to experience it too!"
"I-I mean... is this really something you can get used to?"
Petra clung fearfully to Meili's cloak as the latter casually rested her cheek on her fist atop her seat, playing it cool as an experienced veteran. In response to the question, Meili chuckled.
"So Petra-chan has things she's scared of too, huh? That's surprising."
"It's not that I'm scared—it's more that having something completely outside your expectations happen is shocking. I've heard that the 'Sword Saint' is extraordinarily unconventional, but this is on a whole other level."
"...Even I haven't heard that any of the previous Sword Saints were this far outside the realm of common sense. Reinhard must truly be a special case."
Seeing Petra direct the second half of her exchange with Meili toward him, Old Man
Old Man Rom, whose massive frame was crammed uncomfortably into the carriage seat, didn't seem to have adapted to Reinhard's mode of travel either—one hand pressed against the wall for mental peace of mind.
Apparently,
"If we relied on this outside of emergencies, we'd be criticized for overworking the 'Sword Saint' unfairly. The Kingdom would suffer too if the 'Sword Saint's' authority were to decline... They might even ban this method of travel altogether, not to mention restricting his movement outside the country."
"Ah, that joke of a 'Reinhard Method'..."
Old Man Rom's grimace prompted Subaru to bring up the otherworld's uniquely absurd international law.
The Reinhard Method, as its name suggested, applied exclusively to
That said— "Sure, Reinhard's power is absurd—practically broken—but I'd like it if people recognized that he's not the type to go cause trouble in other countries."
"Oh? And here you are, evaluating Reinhard so favorably despite being part of a different camp."
"He's my friend. It'd be mean to make him stay behind as a house-sitter when everyone goes on a trip abroad. A trip to Volachia, for example... Actually, there's nothing fun in Volachia. Someone like Flop or Medium should use their influence to build an amusement park or something."
He secretly wished someone would swindle or sweet-talk Abel into squandering the Empire's finances on entertainment—a grand amusement park, if possible.
"Garfiel, what are you looking at?"
"Well, I was thinkin' about how great it'd be if I could do somethin' like that too, to give the bosses an easier time, y'know? But... the 'suits some, don't suit others' kinda thing applies here—can't see me pullin' off the same thing."
While Subaru was mentally drafting plans for Volachia Land, Garfiel—addressed by Beatrice—gnashed his teeth in frustration.
True, Garfiel might have the raw strength to match Reinhard's feat, but without the divine blessing of Wind Resistance, the comfort level would be hellish. Besides, treating one's underling like a horse-drawn cart—even in an emergency—left a bad taste.
"Ah, so that's why the Reinhard Method never saw practical use. It does feel pretty rough on the mind."
"I'm glad you understand. I'm pretty hesitant to do this outside of emergencies too."
"He just casually joined the conversation..."
Reinhard's voice suddenly cutting in was the result of his divine blessing of Telepathy—something Subaru had experienced firsthand before in Pristella.
This time, it seemed Reinhard had projected his voice to everyone, not just Subaru. Petra and the others couldn't hide their surprise as Reinhard's voice suddenly echoed inside their heads. Meili, meanwhile, appeared to have developed a tolerance for the Telepathy divine blessing as well, maintaining her smug expression.
In any case— "Alright, the shock from the Reinhard Method has mostly settled. But there's still the other bombshell to process. Is it really true? —That person called Filiore actually showed up?"
"—Yes. It's an unmistakable fact."
Though he couldn't see it, Subaru could tell that Reinhard was nodding in affirmation. He swallowed the weight of this revelation once more, heavy in his throat.
It was a startling new development that had supposedly unfolded in the
The fact that an organization that had kept a low profile until now had appeared bearing a truth impossible to ignore in the context of the Royal Selection—naturally, this shook Subaru to his core as a knight to
However— "—Crusch being saved is the best news of all."
The upheaval the Royal Selection had brought was something he couldn't dismiss either, but among the topics brought to him, the one that held the greatest meaning for Subaru was Crusch's recovery.
At Pristella, Crusch had fallen victim to the Archbishop of Lust's wicked hand, cursed with an affliction that brought unending suffering. Having walked the same battlefield as her yet failed to protect her, the guilt had lingered deep inside Subaru like a thorn for a long, long time.
"If it meant I could really peel that off Crusch's body, I wouldn't have minded if my entire body turned pitch-black."
Crusch, drenched in the Archbishop of Lust's blood, had suffered damage too horrible to look at. Subaru had received the same baptism of blood, but his damage differed greatly from hers.
Of course, the effects had manifested all over his body, but unlike Crusch's ongoing torment, the worst of it was like getting a nasty, unwanted tattoo on his hands and feet. The hand damage had been completely lost when his arm was blown off, and the leg effects only surfaced as a mild shock when using the bathroom or bathing.
For whatever reason, Subaru's body had been able to absorb Crusch's affliction in exchange for pain. Saving Crusch in this manner had been an option— "But Crusch shook her head firmly."
After settling matters at Pristella, Crusch had refused Subaru's offer to take on her curse, saying she didn't want him carrying any additional burden on his way to the Pleiades Watchtower. Since then, her condition had been a constant worry.
Learning that she'd recovered was unquestionably good news for Subaru.
However— "Being unable to celebrate that recovery wholeheartedly, when the people involved are right here—that's what's so frustrating."
As Old Man Rom's solemn words indicated, the fact that Crusch's recovery had been achieved through the hands of an organization called the Dragon Church was a source of bitter regret for them.
Subaru understood that much. And because he understood, he couldn't bring himself to say anything careless. Even if the Royal Selection had gone badly, the most important thing was that she was alive—he couldn't bring himself to say something that glib.
"But that Filiore person showing up and making an Emblem designated for Priestesses shine... that can't be good, right?"
"It really isn't. Just when a Royal Selection candidate had dropped out, freeing up a slot—and then that slot gets filled and we're right back to square one."
"Meili, choose your words more carefully or I'll get angry. We went all the way to the tower because of that, you know."
"That was the guy in the helmet who ruined things anyway... Ugh, fine, stop being angry. Alright, alright, I'm sorry."
Having remembered her role as the resident little devil, Meili—after all her needling—gave an insincere apology to Petra, whose gaze had turned sharp. After a small sigh at Meili's attitude, Petra said "Anyway" and continued— "Putting Meili's big mouth aside... when I say 'not good,' I don't mean the slot issue. After all, this Filiore person has blonde hair and red eyes, doesn't she?"
"Hold on, that means..."
"—Those are the characteristics of the Lugnica
"Filiore."
Petra pressed a finger to her lips, searching through her knowledge. Just as the crucial word was about to be spoken, another voice picked it up—Old Man Rom.
Bathed in the gazes of everyone in the carriage, Old Man Rom let his eyes fall between his knees and spoke.
"Fifteen years ago, the name of the prince's daughter who vanished from the Royal Castle was Filiore. It is the same name as the nun of the Dragon Church who allegedly stormed the castle this time."
"And that nun is said to have made an Emblem shine in front of everyone at the castle. If that's true, it would make sense that it's a crisis threatening the Royal Selection."
The facts that had shaken the Royal Castle of Lugnica to its core—having shared the circumstances surrounding them, a solemn atmosphere settled over the interior of the dragon carriage.
It was Subaru who deliberately broke through that heavy air with a blunt "Hey."
"I'm not entirely convinced by that."
"—Convinced, you say?"
"I'm getting used to having conversations with a voice inside my head, but what everyone's worried about is that this Filiore person from the Dragon Church might be a member of the Lugnica Royal Family who disappeared fifteen years ago. And that the Emblem lighting up is proof of royal blood."
"Yeah, that's right. What part of that can't you accept?"
"Well, because Felt met the same criteria, didn't she?"
Unfortunately, try as he might to recall that wretched day when the Royal Selection began, Subaru had never actually heard Felt's declaration of intent. Before that, he'd made a huge blunder and been thrown out of the throne room.
But even though he hadn't been present, he'd been fully briefed afterward on what had transpired and what Felt had said.
Even then, the existence of a royal family member from fifteen years ago had already come up as an issue.
"So the situation is the same as when Felt showed up. I mean, personally, I think the plot of a princess secretly expelled from the castle who was actually living as a commoner among the people is way more compelling, so I'd prefer Felt being the royal... but still."
"Hmm, I see. —But as you imagine, if Felt is indeed a princess of the Kingdom of Lugnica, then the Royal Selection is Felt's victory, plain and simple. Is that alright with you?"
"Huh?"
At Old Man Rom's remark, one eye closed, Subaru's eyes went wide.
He'd wondered if it was some kind of tasteless joke, but no correction came. Moreover, everyone else besides Subaru seemed to agree with Old Man Rom's thinking.
Finding himself unexpectedly in the minority—no, entirely alone—Subaru was shaken.
"Wait, wait, wait, why?!"
"What do you mean, 'why'? Isn't it obvious? The whole reason the Royal Selection is happening is because there are no more royals left! But if that's not the case—if there's a surviving royal—then isn't it only natural for them to become the ruler?"
"You mean... hereditary succession?"
"The phrasing could use some work, but that's essentially it."
Garfiel and Reinhard, the two fighters, admonished him in those terms. Subaru became aware of the gap between his own perspective and that of otherworlders, and let out a "Haaa" sigh.
For
But from an otherworlder's perspective, the natural order was for the prince to become the next king, and when the prince became king, his child would become the next prince.
Therefore, if Felt was confirmed to be royalty, she would naturally ascend to the throne, and the Royal Selection as an institution would lose its very purpose— "Which means, if Felt being royalty got confirmed, that would've been really bad!"
"That's exactly why it was kept as a suspicion, allowing the Royal Selection to proceed as it did. And you—you're really that girl's knight, aren't you?"
"Cut me some slack! I was just a little ignorant of how things work around here! At home, I've got Beako, Petra, and Garfiel—smart young people who are all being properly raised!"
"For the record, Pretty Little Miss Betty is the oldest one here."
Beatrice, held tightly and perched on Subaru's lap, puffed out her chest proudly. As Subaru and the others stroked her head, Old Man Rom slapped his own forehead with a tired expression.
Indeed, a brief lapse in situational awareness had led to an embarrassing display. But even so, Subaru's questions weren't finished.
"I stumbled a bit, but my doubts aren't resolved yet. I get that if the royal identity is confirmed, the Royal Selection loses its purpose. But in the end, the question of whether this Filiore person is the real deal is just the same uncertainty as with Felt. So then..."
"—We'll have to determine which one is the genuine royal."
"———"
That may have been Reinhard's attempt to keep emotion out of his words. And perhaps because of that, his voiceless statement carried a razor's sharpness.
Subaru held his breath, letting the meaning sink in—determining which of Felt and Filiore was the real deal.
"Unsubstantiated suspicion is what has allowed the Royal Selection to function until today. But with two candidates who might be the missing royal, we can no longer leave this unaddressed. We must also consider the possibility that someone with ill intentions has infiltrated the Royal Selection."
"Ill intentions... Even if one of them turns out to be the royal, that doesn't automatically make the other one evil. Maybe they just happen to have blonde hair and red eyes..."
"That's precisely why we can't rule it out. If it were merely coincidental, those traits wouldn't be considered exclusive to the Royal Family."
"But! Both of their Emblems lit up!"
Being lectured logically by both Old Man Rom and Beatrice, Subaru became emotional. It was the only way he could push back at this point.
He couldn't even explain to himself why he was so worked up.
But if his initial encounter with them upon being summoned was part of why he felt such fondness toward Reinhard and Old Man Rom, then the same was true of Felt. He didn't want Felt's character and efforts to be dismissed just because she might not be royalty.
Even more, he didn't want to paint Filiore—who he hadn't even met—as a villain and slander her based on suspicion alone.
And above all— "If you really wanted someone to inherit the royal bloodline, then when Felt showed up, you should've dropped the whole Royal Selection and just done a DNA test or whatever to confirm she was royalty! But you didn't—you started the Selection, and now Emilia, and everyone else, has put so much..."
"Subaru..."
Biting his lip and suppressing his voice, Subaru was fretted over by Beatrice on his lap. Feeling her small hand gently grip his, he closed his eyes and took a deep, forceful breath. Even so, his heart, battered by the surge of emotion, refused to calm down.
Emilia, Felt, Crusch, Anastasia, Priscilla—they had all staked their beliefs and their very lives on the Royal Selection.
He couldn't accept having the entire premise twisted just because an unexpected obstacle had appeared.
"If it comes to this..."
"If it comes to this, what will you do?"
"Rally up a demonstration with Reinhard to demand the Royal Selection continue..."
"—I see."
"It's not 'you see'! Don't say something so terrifying! You—don't you go inciting the 'Sword Saint' recklessly and actually going through with it!"
"I'm in too if it comes to that!"
"Garf, this is a delicate situation, so could you be quiet for now? Yeah?"
Old Man Rom and Petra vehemently protested Subaru's desperate words. The combined pushback of both action-oriented and calm counsel caused Petra to glare at Garfiel, who shrank back with a "Guh..."
But it wasn't entirely a joke. —No, in fact, he was quite serious. He had to demonstrate that level of resolve as a knight to a Royal Selection candidate.
"There's going to be so much to deal with once we reach the Royal Capital...! I feel like I've been running non-stop for about half a year straight without a break..."
"That sounds like just the beginning. Betty feels like she's been going non-stop for about eleven and a half years straight."
"Don't say scary things like that—my brain's gonna short-circuit..."
To Subaru's quip, Beatrice countered with an even more powerful one. Subaru braced at her words, then sighed at the sheer scale and number of troubles awaiting them in the Royal Capital.
He was worried about Emilia, who would be seeing all this unfold. He wanted to visit Crusch, who'd recovered. He needed to see this Filiore person's face. He had to question the bigwigs of the Royal Selection about what would happen next—people who gave him trauma just thinking about them. He wanted to investigate the Al Crystal hanging around his neck, and all the factors that had led to that outrageous act.
But for now, the immediate priority was— "—Subaru, we're arriving."
"Seriously? Wow, thanks for the ride. Sorry for the detour."
His mental shift and Reinhard's report came at the exact same moment.
Based on the speed at which the scenery had been flying by, he'd guessed as much, but this was truly an extraordinary travel speed. Cecilus might have been faster in terms of pure velocity, but he probably wouldn't have the arm strength to carry a dragon carriage, so the Cecilus Method didn't seem viable.
Maybe if it were just one person being carried on someone's back, a similar feat could be pulled off—such were his wandering thoughts when the scenery outside the window suddenly snapped back to reality.
The high-speed blur came to a stop, and the dragon carriage was gently lowered to the ground. They had arrived at their destination. As if to confirm this— "—What in the world is going on here?!"
"———"
Suddenly hearing that first voice, Subaru sprang to his feet, startling Beatrice with a yelp and scooping her up as he burst out of the dragon carriage.
There stood Reinhard, not having broken a sweat from carrying the carriage, and beside him, Patrasche—who had been transported with quite a bit of tension, it seemed.
And there, in front of the familiar gate of
"Subaru!? Wh-what's wrong!?"
Beatrice, who had been pulled outside with him, panicked as Subaru suddenly clutched his chest and dropped to one knee. As she frantically patted his head and shoulders, Subaru's heart ached at the sight before him.
Because standing there at the front of Roswaal Manor, welcoming Subaru and the others— "I finally realize just how precious your familiar appearance is..."
"...You say that, yet you always look like that no matter when or where we meet."
With that—wearing an expression that blended exasperation with relief, deep with meaning—
△▼△▼△▼△ By taking advantage of the speed of the Reinhard Method, Subaru had begged for a detour to Roswaal Manor on the way to the Royal Capital.
The purpose, needless to say, was to have Rem join them in the upcoming meeting with the Archbishop of Gluttony,
"I don't expect the talks with the Archbishop of Gluttony to go smoothly, but Al somehow managed to drag him out before. There's no reason we can't do the same. Besides, I already missed the scene of
Despite Subaru's tearful plea—and despite Reinhard presumably wanting to return to Felt's side as quickly as possible—the Sword Saint agreed without a moment's hesitation or complaint.
He could only be described as a truly great friend. Subaru would want to help with any request from Reinhard too, though he wasn't sure he could wholeheartedly agree to carry a dragon carriage on his shoulder for a detour of several hundred kilometers.
But Reinhard had actually gone and done it.
Moreover, what Reinhard had taken on extended beyond just that— "—Sorry for making you go through all this."
"Don't worry about it. And though I'm not fully aware of it myself, I was also a victim of the Archbishop of Gluttony's authority. At the very least, I seem to have been made to forget about a friend."
"Yeah. Come to think of it, that guy apparently said something about using the fact that Reinhard had forgotten about him as a good opportunity to challenge him—something about how he could win since Reinhard didn't know his abilities."
"That's... honestly, I'm looking forward to it."
Reinhard raised his eyebrows slightly, then broke into a genuinely delighted smile. Watching this from the corner of his eye, Subaru inwardly apologized to Julius for potentially having ruined whatever slim chance of victory he might have had.
Then again, Julius might be the type to think it wasn't fair to keep his abilities to himself and would actively show his hand. So Subaru decided to hold off on apologizing outside of his own thoughts.
—That was the kind of heavy, uncomfortable atmosphere this place carried, enough to send his mind wandering into pointless tangents.
"...So this is the famous Prison Tower."
A strange cold sweat trickled down Subaru's forehead.
He wasn't anxious, nor had he run here. Yet this cold sweat had surfaced and was now sliding down—proof of his body's rejection of this space.
Built from stone in the uppermost layer of the Royal Capital of Lugnica, near the Royal Castle, this pointed tower served as a prison housing some of the Kingdom's most heinous criminals. Naturally, to prevent easy contact between inmates, every cell door was sealed shut with iron.
Unlike the typical prison seen in manga—with iron bars separating prisoner from visitor—Subaru felt a mixture of relief and disappointment in a roughly 70-30 split as he stepped inside.
"The people on Sword Slave Island were criminals, sure, but they were the more straightforward kind of troublemakers..."
He wasn't sure it was fair to chalk it up to regional differences, but the crimes committed by Hiain, Weitz, and Idra—who had been his companions on the Sword Slave island of
The atmosphere of the Prison Tower holding Lugnica's worst criminals, on the other hand—by Subaru's gut feeling, honed from his time on the Sword Slave island—carried a blood-soaked menace that was entirely different.
"So is this place full of
"Yes. Given that they primarily operate in Lugnica, that assumption is correct. In fact, the Archbishop of Wrath is also imprisoned in the basement here."
"Down there... so it's far from the Archbishop of Gluttony, then."
"Better safe than sorry. They're in different situations, but the Archbishop of Wrath can't have people casually brought near. Even the prisoners are kept at a distance."
The Archbishop of Wrath Sirius Romanee-Conti's authority was a kind of psychic contamination that spread through her words and presence, infecting those around her. Given the scope of her influence, even if she was immobilized, it was impossible to say her danger had been eliminated.
In fact, some of the unpleasant aura pervading the Prison Tower might well be emanating from that very Archbishop of Wrath.
"I feel physically ill around her, but I might end up having to talk to her eventually too."
"When that time comes, let me know. I'll sit in again, just like this time."
"I'd really appreciate that. I'm counting on you seriously."
Reinhard patted his own chest in reassurance. However, Sirius's authority could potentially make Reinhard's strength a liability. He'd need to handle this carefully.
Regardless, the reason Subaru and the others had come to the Prison Tower today was not for her. As unpleasant as it was, Sirius would have to enjoy the cold air of the basement a while longer.
Instead— "This way."
The one who spoke and indicated a door was the guard who had been guiding them. With a face that evenly divided intense tension and professional awareness, he nodded to Subaru, who looked toward the door.
The door exuded a cold, oppressive heaviness that made one's spirits sink just from looking at it. —Behind that door, the Archbishop of Gluttony was imprisoned.
"Although, since Al Crystal is in the same situation, whether the person in there is even conscious is questionable..."
Based on his own experience, when sealed inside the black sphere, it had felt like being stuck in an inescapable lukewarm bath—an indescribable sensation.
In an environment where one could barely maintain consciousness, Beatrice had worked tirelessly to unravel the mechanism of the forbidden technique for Subaru's sake. She was so brave and endearing that he wanted to award her the Iyari Subaru Prize, but the list of nominees was so long it would fill both hands. He'd need to give it considerable thought.
"Subaru? Why are you kneading Betty's cheek?"
"Well, since I can't hand out the Iyari Subaru Prize right now, I was going to express my love this way instead—"
"When this is over, you can do whatever you like. For now, focus on what's in front of you."
Was she seeing through his need for physical comfort born of anxiety? Beatrice scolded him earnestly. Subaru pursed his lips but conceded, "You're right."
Beatrice at the front gate, Reinhard at the back—this was the best formation Subaru could assemble for visiting the "Gluttony" of the Prison Tower. Ideally, he'd have Rem—the person directly involved—present, but he didn't expect the first round of negotiations to go well regardless.
It would take persistent effort to persuade—or coerce—the Archbishop of Gluttony.
"In any case, that guy's been sealed with Yin magic, so Beako's essential for breaking it."
"Leave it to Betty. And if the opponent goes berserk the moment it's broken, you—" she turned to Reinhard "—Sword Saint, will beat them down for us."
"Of course. I won't let them lay a single finger on you or Subaru. Rest assured."
"That really is reassuring. Then..."
Trusting in his overwhelmingly reliable ally, Subaru nodded to the guard, who unlocked the door. As the guard slowly pushed it open, Subaru clenched his fists tight.
—In the dim depths of the cell, particularly dark within the already low-light tower, Roy Alphard was imprisoned—frozen into a monolith-like shape by Yin magic. He was to be awakened, and made to cough up Rem's "memories" and the "names" and "memories" of all his victims.
Exchanging words with an Archbishop of Sin would be a battle that wore away at one's sanity. But if there was a sure reward on the other side, Subaru was determined to— "—Huh?"
Having steeled himself, Subaru inadvertently let out his breath.
As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, the scene in the cell was not what he had expected. He had anticipated finding Roy Alphard embedded in a black stone slab-like monolith, in a specimen-like state.
But what was there was something entirely unexpected.
"———"
Unable to comprehend what he was seeing, Subaru froze. Gently pushing past his shoulder, it was Reinhard who stepped into the cell in his stead. Close beside him, Beatrice pressed her entire body against Subaru—no, she was supporting him.
Because the strength had drained from Subaru's legs, and he was on the verge of collapsing.
Behind the teetering Subaru and the Beatrice holding him up, Reinhard advanced to the back of the cell. Looking down at what lay scattered across the cold prison floor, he shook his head.
Then he turned and spoke.
"—I'm sorry, but he's dead."
Lying at Reinhard's feet was the wretched remains of the Archbishop of Gluttony, "Gluttony" Roy Alphard—his limbs torn apart, his body scattered in pieces across the floor.