Within the border territory of Count Mathers, at the Roswaal mansion.
"I understand Sir Astrea's intention in summoning us Royal Selection candidates. It is nothing more than a response to the comprehensive infiltration and invasion of the so-called 'Sacred Selene Empire.' However, there is no need to repeat the same tired rhetoric from the Council of Wise Men. What I wish to know is the Sword Saint's choice. Will it be war, peace—or passive inaction?"
"Is it not too early to speak of that? Miss Anastasia Hoshin, why else would Lord Reinhard gather us here? For a social gathering? If the Sword Saint had already reached a decision, would he need to solicit your opinion? The conclusion of this meeting will determine the future of the Kingdom of Lugunica. Kararagi merchant, do not flaunt your trader's mentality at such a sacred moment."
"Oh? Hehehe, how fascinating. I knew something interesting would happen if I came. But enough of your dull quarrels. For I who follow the will of the world am destiny itself. Entrusting Lugunica to me is the optimal solution. I shall bring Lugunica to the place in this world that it rightfully deserves."
"Hah! What's wrong with that?! That Empire ought to smash that useless Council and every doddering old fool in it—and everything they stand on! Nobles, knights, the Kingdom—they should all be knocked down! Then maybe that red-haired goody-two-shoes would finally stop pestering and lecturing me!"
"...Everyone, please don't do this."
There was no need for doubt. To speak so brazenly of the fate of the Kingdom of Lugunica—as though supreme authority rested in their palms—only five people in the kingdom possessed such standing.
The five Dragon Priestess candidates for the throne.
With the royal bloodline extinguished and the highest authority in the kingdom vacant, these five women—arguably the most important figures in Lugunica—had gathered here.
Around a round table at the center of the conference room, with only five chairs arranged around it, Subaru Natsuki sat off to the side on a soft sofa, observing the royal candidates before him.
Each possessed a distinct personality. Each was exceedingly strong-willed.
"Sigh..."
Aside from the gentle and considerate Emilia-tan, every one of them was equally adept at derailing discussions. Subaru could not help but let out a deep sigh.
Honestly, from the perspective and values of an otherworlder like him—aside from Emilia, and perhaps Crusch Karsten, the cross-dressing noblewoman who had once fought alongside him—the remaining three each had severe personality flaws.
One could say that this informal yet crucial council had grown tense from the very start, fueled by their tempers.
It was not harmonious.
It was explosive.
If Emilia had not been acting as mediator—and if Reinhard, like a towering statue of Buddha, had not been standing there maintaining order—Subaru suspected things would already have devolved into a physical confrontation.
Although he would never admit it, a tiny part of him was curious to see it. Beautiful girls arguing had its own... spectacle.
"If the head of House Karsten speaks in such a manner, may I interpret that as..."
Speaking in a Kansai-like accent, the petite purple-haired girl in a white fur-trimmed dress narrowed her eyes. "Miss Crusch harbors prejudice against Kararagi people?"
"I harbor prejudice against no one. I address matters, not individuals."
Arms crossed, the sharp-eyed, dark-green-haired noblewoman met the Kararagi merchant's gaze head-on.
"Miss Hoshin, as a candidate for the throne of Lugunica, you do not appear to regard Lugunica as your homeland. During the Sacred Selene Empire's diplomatic visit, you transferred vast tracts of Lugunican commercial land under your banner through business dealings."
Even if the Dragon Tablet had acknowledged her as a Dragon Priestess and the Council of Wise Men had approved it, as a native grand noble who shared Lugunica's honor and disgrace, Crusch found foreign interference in domestic affairs deeply distasteful.
Emilia, Felt, and Priscilla were different. At the very least, they could be considered half-Lugunican.
But Anastasia?
A Kararagi through and through.
With astronomical wealth and interests rooted in the Kararagi City-States, her heart belonged wholly to Kararagi.
If she became king, would Lugunica become Kararagi's vassal—or suffer economic colonization?
"Because their offer was sufficiently high. As a merchant, after careful consideration, I deemed the transaction profitable."
"Then there is nothing further to discuss."
That answer—perfectly befitting a shrewd merchant—was precisely what Crusch found most unacceptable.
After all, the numerous lands and mines under the Anastasia Company had not been acquired solely through her commercial acumen. A significant portion had been half-granted and half-bestowed by the Council of Wise Men after she obtained Royal Selection qualification.
Otherwise, how could a foreign merchant become one of Lugunica's foremost magnates—and even possess regulated assets like land and mines?
The atmosphere grew heavier still. Subaru could clearly feel Crusch's mounting displeasure.
Nearby, having easily suppressed the rebellious loli who had attempted to resist, the "Bloody Bride" Priscilla lightly flicked her radiant golden-red hair, gleaming like the sun.
From the valley of her bosom, she drew a folding fan. With a sharp snap, she opened it and laughed softly behind it, her crimson eyes gleaming above the edge.
There was a cruel curve to her lips.
A spectator relishing the spectacle.
Subaru muttered quietly to Reinhard, "Reinhard... calling all of them here was a mistake. I feel like Lugunica is doomed sooner or later."
He almost felt sorry for Reinhard.
"The strongest knight." "A knight among knights." "The current Sword Saint."
What upright, honorable, courageous titles.
Unfortunately, he was still merely a knight.
Not a king.
There was no 'king' in his title.
The Astrea lineage of Sword Saints had been loyal for generations. It was unthinkable for him to overstep his station.
Even with the royal bloodline extinguished and the throne vacant, he could not seize authority. He required consensus among the five candidates before acting.
If this were Subaru's homeland, powerful ministers would have emerged long ago. A military government. A shogun proclaiming authority in three decisive strokes.
"Subaru, forgive the spectacle..."
Reinhard offered a somewhat bitter smile, helpless.
When he first chose Felt as the object of his loyalty, it was not solely because she possessed royal blood. He had also believed she had the greatest potential for growth.
With the [Divine Protection of Education], students he taught improved dramatically. With the [Divine Protection of Training], he possessed keen insight not only in training himself but in cultivating others.
He had confidence he could guide and serve a wise king.
Of course—
That required time.
But the Sacred Selene Empire had given him none.
If their infiltration continued, it would not only render the Council of Wise Men obsolete. Even the regional nobles and territorial lords of the Kingdom of Lugunica might ultimately defect.
This was no alarmist speculation. Reinhard had already witnessed the capabilities of those so-called Imperial lobbyists.
Several nobles who had originally supported Princess Felt had, within a short span of days, abruptly severed intelligence-sharing ties. Some even wrote politely urging Reinhard to abandon his stubbornness, refrain from extreme actions, and allow events to take their natural course.
Reinhard had secretly visited those nobles who had shifted their allegiance.
They had not been possessed. They had not been controlled by magic. Nor had they been threatened by agents of the Sacred Selene Empire.
Without exception, they spoke earnestly, insisting their decisions were voluntary and the result of careful deliberation.
They said things like:
"The Lugunican royal line has already been extinguished."
"There is no harm in accepting the rule of the Sacred Selene Empire."
"Once we pledge loyalty to the Divine Empress, there will be no need to concern ourselves with the farce of the Royal Selection."
"In the past, we forged a covenant with the Divine Dragon Volcanica and built a prosperous kingdom. Now a new crossroads has appeared. Bathed in the radiance of the Divine Empress, we shall construct an even greater golden age."
Whenever Reinhard pressed them about who this so-called Divine Empress was, however, those newly repositioned nobles grew evasive.
It was only a few territorial lords—long-standing allies of the Astrea family, who seemed faintly guilty about changing sides—who disclosed fragments of information.
From them, Reinhard learned certain claims.
Why had their world been targeted?
Because this world had apparently been chosen by one of the Empire's generals as the site of an imperial residence—a gift to be presented to the Empress.
That was the source of the information Reinhard had relayed to Subaru—that the Empire's primary purpose was the construction of palaces.
Hearing this, Subaru sighed faintly. "The situation really is that bad..."
At the same time, he could not help but marvel inwardly. To use an entire world as an imperial villa—what extravagance.
An interstellar colonial empire indeed.
Their residences were measured in planets.
When their gazes met, both men saw the same deep shadow reflected in each other's eyes.
With a grave nod, Reinhard said, "Therefore, Subaru, tell the Royal Selection candidates everything you know and everything you have inferred. Do not withhold anything."
Subaru narrowed his eyes and spoke with solemn resolve. "What if this group of problem children votes for resistance?"
"...Then I will choose to fight."
Thud.
His eyes dimmed briefly.
Then the strongest knight regained his resolute brilliance. He clenched his fist and struck it against his chest.
"Even if I die in battle, I shall not disgrace the name of knight, nor shame the blood of the Astrea family!"
"You..."
Subaru opened his mouth, words failing him.
Reinhard merely nodded to him, wearing a gentle and composed smile like a warm breeze. Then he stepped forward to finally intervene in the escalating dispute among the candidates.
Aside from the silver-haired half-elf, who stood anxiously with her hands clasped at her chest, the other four were exchanging barbed words, their mutual irritation plain to see.
"Your Highnesses, please listen. This is not a game, nor a tea party. It concerns the life and death of the Kingdom of Lugunica. After hearing your views, I will return to the Royal Capital and report to the Council of Wise Men."
In an instant, the knight who had stood behind the round table moved between the candidates.
At the same time, he restrained Felt—who had nearly been provoked into baring her fangs at the "Bloody Bride."
"Subaru, you speak. What is the Sacred Selene Empire? What is an interstellar colonial empire? What do those weapons and alchemical vehicles signify? What does such large-scale deployment and transport of supplies imply? What are industry, military industry, interstellar warships, and planet-destroying weapons?"
Reinhard's voice suddenly deepened—solemn and cold.
"..."
As one unfamiliar term after another emerged from the mouth of the strongest Sword Saint, the previously chaotic atmosphere around the round table shifted.
Even Priscilla—who carried an air of absolute self-assurance—straightened her posture slightly.
"I shall watch with interest."
"For Sir Astrea's sake, I shall listen."
"Mr. Subaru Natsuki, begin. There has been enough farce. I, too, wish to know what intelligence you possess."
"Subaru..."
Taking a deep breath, Subaru rose from the sofa and slowly surveyed the beautiful women before him.
The proud and imperious Priscilla. The seemingly composed Anastasia. The steady Crusch. The gentle Emilia.
And, of course, Felt—flushed with indignation.
Clatter.
"Barusu." That was Ram, pushing in a simple blackboard.
"Yeah. Thanks."
After clearing his throat and exchanging a nod with Reinhard, Subaru pinned his drafted contingency papers onto the wooden board behind him.
"Emilia-tan, honestly, I'm just a half-baked dropout—maybe not even half-baked. But I should at least be capable of giving a rough explanation."
"Let's start with the term interstellar colonial empire. Interstellar, as I understand it, means..."
...
Thus began Subaru Natsuki's makeshift little classroom.
Time passed unnoticed.
He had already downed several cups of tea Ram handed him, and only a few sheets remained from his thick stack of notes.
"As for planet-destroying weapons—I have never seen one personally. But they are weapons created with the explicit purpose of destroying a planet. As a reference... even the sun would not be spared. If such a weapon struck our world, the Kingdom of Lugunica—every one of us..."
He crumpled a sheet of paper into a ball.
Lighting it with a candle flame, he blew on the burning paper ball.
"Boom."
The ash scattered.
"Like that. Reduced to nothing."
"..."
Silence.
A deathly silence.
With Reinhard's endorsement lending credibility, no one openly dismissed his words as absurd lies. Though shocked, they struggled to process the overwhelming new knowledge he had laid before them.
Reinhard pressed a hand to his forehead and murmured tiredly, "What a despairing gap."
"...That's too exaggerated," Felt said after regaining some composure. "You're saying the ground we stand on is just the surface of a planet, and a single weapon could blow the entire planet—surface and core—apart?"
"Subaru, so you come from such a place," Emilia stepped forward, concern evident in her eyes. "You know these imperial secrets. Will they come to capture you?"
"No, no, of course not."
Drinking tea to soothe his throat, Subaru waved his hand repeatedly.
With his beloved standing before him, his confidence swelled. He thumped his chest boldly.
"It's fine. As long as we surrender quickly enough, they'll need local proxies. Emilia-tan has my support and is already a Royal Selection candidate. Surely—"
Vrrrrrrrrr—
What was that sound?
Still digesting Subaru's lecture, the candidates instinctively lifted their heads toward the windows, toward the direction of the continuous thunderous roar.
Only Subaru froze mid-sip.
The noise—like the wail of a train's horn—echoed from the horizon, growing louder and nearer.
His entire body jolted.
He knew that sound.
"Is that... the sound of a jet engine breaking the sound barrier?!"
—
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