Rei silently read her lord's lips. "I'm on your side. I'll fix this."
The unspoken words thundered in her head.
A foreign sensation tightened around her heart, constricting, unfamiliar. She didn't understand this feeling of being looked after and protected. She hadn't felt this similar sensation since her childhood when she was still a timid little girl. It sent a subtle shiver across her body, her skin tingling as she bit her lower lip, silently holding back the tremor that wanted to escape.
Crimson slowly angled his head toward the crowd, his voice calm but scathing.
"Let's just say Reinhard broke the law, crossed over a boundary between a country, for hypothetical terms, let's say Volachia. The law was created for her when she was, what, seven?" He paused, face palming with amused embarrassment for the council as if he found this whole conversation idiotic. "And then… let's say you somehow actually managed to carry out the execution clause on her family members. The Sword Demon, Wilhelm, and the current royal knight, Deputy Commander Heinkel. Famous across the kingdom for their strength and skill with the sword. One of them," he gestured vaguely, "earned great military merit in the Demi-Human War. So, a war hero."
He paused again, giving the room a long, pitying look. "In the best-case scenario, you complete the executions cleanly. No casualties. No political backlash." His brows furrowed, lips parting like he was genuinely lost in thought.
"Then what?" He blinked. "No, really. What's the next step? I'm dying to know."
Stepping down from the pedestal with casual grace, Ignoring the knight commander Marcos, who attempted to respond but visibly froze thinking about the deeper implication of the boy's words. Crimson sauntered toward one of the seated wise men, a man who looked like the Monopoly mascot had come to life: bald head, curly sideburns, and a twisted handlebar mustache. All that was missing was a top hat. Toyota had to suppress the irrational urge to tug on it.
Leaning in close, just inches from the man's face, Crimson asked quietly:
"What would you do?"
The Monopoly man clenched his mouth shut; he avoided the pale white white-haired boy's blindfolded face, which strangely enough had a subtle, familiar iron iron-tangy smell coming from it. The monopoly man was startled to see Crimson's gaze; the cloth hid two silver glowing orbs that were able to emit light through the dark fabric. It was almost spectral; the monopoly man only angled his head downward like a chastised child, sweat beading on the wiseman's forehead. Five drawn-out seconds of silence passed.
Bored yet unsurprised at no response, Crimson slowly pulled away, did a quick spin on his heel, and licked his dry lips.
"From where I stand, you're all more afraid of how the other countries might respond to Reinhard than of Reinhard herself."
He let that sink in, voice low and grim.
"So tell me, what happens if you snap the last moral chain that's holding her back? Just before you kicked her when still bound."
The room chilled. A few royal knights visibly stiffened, goosebumps rising on their arms.
They knew.
Even among the most seasoned warriors, the name Reinhard van Astrea conjured awe and unease. Rookie knights had been trained under her, seen the raw difference in power. The gap between themselves and the Sword Saint wasn't just vast, it was a chasm. Even the most boastful among them likened it to a raindrop challenging the sea.
No sane person would ever wish to make an enemy of Reinhard van Astrea.
"You have no right to create a law that not only you can't enforce,
but one that would trigger the worst possible domino effect imaginable."
Crimson's voice cut through the chamber.
"Seriously, treating her like some chained beast, instilling distance and unfamiliarity... and yet none of you realize something important."
He raised a hand, almost mockingly calm.
"She's always had the strength to break that chain. You just never gave her a good enough reason to."
At that, a heavy silence fell.
The mages and knights present couldn't help but reflect.
Their memories of the Sword Saint, so many moments where she stood alone, praised but distant, idolized yet isolated. The public adored her. She fought for justice, always. And yet... they had all instinctively kept their distance.
Why?
Because her strength frightened them.
No one said it aloud, but it was true: someone like Reinhard shouldn't exist. Her power was unnatural, inhuman.
If she wanted to, she could have killed them all without lifting a finger. There was nothing anyone could do to stop her.
Her presence was like a sword constantly pressed to the back of their necks.
And because of that fear, they had subconsciously dehumanized her. Saw her as something less, a tool, a weapon, not a person.
But now, listening to Crimson's words, his voice unnaturally wise for someone his age, they began to understand. Understand themselves. Understand why they felt the way they did.
Turning away from the crowd, Crimson looked toward Emilia.
She had remained silent, clutching her head, brows furrowed as if in pain. Seeing her trembling slightly, he walked forward, pausing before her, concern flickering in his smile.
She blinked up at him, confused, dazed.
"Do you like riddles?" he asked gently.
"Riddles…?" she echoed, unsure.
He nodded.
"Here's one. Three people sit in a room: a noble—" he gestured to Priscilla,
"A merchant—" he motioned to Anastasia,
"And a warrior." His gaze shifted to Crusch.
"Between them is a single sword. Only one gets to leave the room alive. Who lives? Who dies?"
Emilia frowned, her expression troubled. "That's… kind of a nasty riddle."
Still, after a moment's hesitation, she answered:
"I guess... the warrior?"
Crimson smiled.
"Really? Why? Why not the noble, with authority? Or the merchant, with wealth?"
Emilia bit her lip, unsure. "Because… in a situation like that, pure strength wins. The warrior would be the strongest."
"Exactly."
He turned his back to her, facing the crowd again, his body language once again theatrical, his voice sharp.
"Authority. Money. Titles." He flicked his wrist dismissively. "None of that matters when the sword is drawn."
"In a world that preaches equality, power resides where people believe it resides. And when push comes to shove, the one holding the sword gets the final say."
His tone dropped lower.
"Almost all of you imbeciles don't realize this. But I didn't come here to give a lecture on power."
Elsa, who Crimson had honestly forgotten was even present, blurred behind him suddenly with ridiculous speed, reappearing like a ghost.
Her cheeks were flushed, as if she couldn't suppress a craving. Her incorporeal arms slithered around his waist, her exhibitionist outfit pressing her large breasts against his back.
Crimson's shoulders twitched, curling them outward. Not from pleasure, but like someone reacting to a bug crawling on them.
A sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
From the corner of his mouth, in a voice that was borderline murderous, quiet enough to be heard and interpreted as a breath, he stated:
"Get off me… you vampire b***h."
Elsa giggled softly, resting her cheek over his shoulder, speaking directly into his ear.
"My, my, my… the first time you actually spoke to me. How lovely~"
Her voice dripped with a heated amusement.
"So harsh… but you were acting so grown-up, I just couldn't help myself. I see why the Sword Saint enjoys grooming you. So adorable…"
She pouted, lower lip jutting out like a child denied a toy.
"But why call me a vampire? Sure, blood is beautiful, but that's too mean, don't you think?"
Crimson blinked.
Wait, wasn't she a vampire?
He hadn't checked Elsa's entry in the Book of the Dead yet. But in the anime, they always referred to her as a vampire. And with her unnatural regeneration, it made sense.
Still, that didn't mean he wanted her wrapped around him like some clingy leech.
Just then, Elsa, in a teasing action, bit the lower lobe of his ear. Clearly hoping for more of a reaction, and she got one.
In response to the hologram-like bite, He jabbed his elbow into her ribs, passing right through her ethereal form, and stepped forward with a scowl.
As a soul, she was able to make contact with the physical world, but it was one-sided, and if anything in the physical world that was moving made physical contact with her, it would pass through.
If not for that, he would have done something about that psychopathic woman a while ago. His unseen hand, when intangible, could make contact but was too physically weak to do anything to her. While it was fast, its physical output was way weaker than initially thought at full concentration; it could exert around 250 pounds of striking force. When not focused, it was around 15 pounds, which made him depressed.
"This is my debut," he repeated, trying to regain his composure.
But then, he stopped.
Jaw slack in disbelief.
His perception caught movement at the edge of the castle's corridor.
A girl.
Shoulder-length hair, somewhere based on its tint it was between gold and straw. A sleeveless black top, long scarf that was likely red, trailing behind her like a tail in the wind. Her eyes were sharp, almost glowing. She looked his age physically, maybe younger.
But he knew who it was instantly.
Felt.
The resident dead thief.
What is she doing here? Did she follow Rom? That's a bit delayed.
She jogged straight into the heart of the chamber like it was nothing. No hesitation. No fear. None of the guards outside even reacted, unable to stop her, or maybe just didn't see her.
Her gaze was scanning, searching for something. Or someone. Most likely Rom.
This was just giving him more and more hectic variables. Predicting based on predetermined outcomes was just plain torturous. All Crimson currently wanted was to end this whole performance and plan for the upcoming subjugation. Just end this already.
Turning back to Emilia, Crimson grimaced, covering his face and hiding his expression with an arm, as if stretching.
Roswaal leaned forward, intrigued by what was going to be said, but despite his innate curiosity, he was also nervous. Toyota likely knew him and his character perfectly, which meant his reactions were currently being viewed as those of an insignificant game piece.
Roswaal's true goal was being seen through or had at one point been seen, which meant that against this boy, defeat was the only possibility. Some pseudo form of time looping or regression... killing him would only erase Toyota's current self. The best possible option would be to seal him eternally or make a deal that would be in both his and Crimson's best interest.
"Emilia, the half-elf. Out of all the candidates here, you are by far the kindest… and the most innocent.
Wishing for equality is a noble ideal, but also an impossible dream. You'll learn that while all may be declared equal, some are always far more equal than others. What you're imagining isn't equality, it's fairness. A world where everyone starts at the same line, not one where they all reach the same finish.
And even that? That's hard enough.
Ending racial discrimination is a far more realistic goal than the dream you cling to. But let's be honest, wasn't the root of your dream always personal? Born not from some higher principle, but from the pain of being hated, scorned… just because your face resembled hers? The Witch of Envy."
He let the words hang for a beat before continuing, voice sharpened.
"Raised by your aunt in Elior Forest, over a hundred years ago, before the Permafrost Incident that you caused."
Emilia gripped her head, shaking, her body trembling as waves of pain and nausea crashed over her.
Images stuttered through her mind like broken glass,
A cozy house nestled in a quiet forest.
A smiling woman with long, silver-white hair and ears just like hers.
Soft laughter.
Warm hands guiding her small ones as she finger-painted across parchment.
Eyes filled with love.
A memory lost… now clawing its way back.
Subaru, seeing her face tense, asked, "Emilia, are you okay? You should sit down and ignore him." He cast a shallow glare at Crimson for putting Emilia in her current state.
"I'm fine, Subaru," she replied.
Crimson knew it. Her memories without Puck suppressing her were coming back; all compiled spring needed was a push.
Crimson continued, as if trying to get this over with. "Your memories were buried. Sealed by Puck, your surrogate great spirit father."
At that, Crimson thought deeply about how lucky it was that Puck had lost his memories. Since the mischievous possessive spirit cat would be unable to collude with Roswaal.
Crimson was aware that he was the cause of Puck's memory loss, but was unaware of the details. By now, the memories of Puck he had buried should return soon. He believed it was temporary; he had no solid reason, just a gut feeling.
At that statement, Roswaal scowled, dreading how much would be revealed.
Many people found her revealed age to be falsified, and they objected aloud:
"That can't be true."
"Even if she's a half-elf, her lifespan shouldn't be that high."
"Her appearance wouldn't look so young."
Subaru exclaimed at the information, shocked. "What? Emilia told me she's fifteen…?" As if hearing the last bit of information belatedly, he asked himself in a confused voice.
"Puck sealed her memories?"
Turning to Beatrice, he looked down at the Loli, who was staring intently at Emilia with an unreadable gaze. Her flower-petal-like pupils shrank slightly.
"What's the Permafrost Incident?" Subaru questioned the little librarian innocently.
(AN: I want to post a challenge to guess what the MC's magic is, because I've already dropped hints in the greed and pride conversation of what it is, and it's a broken, overpowered magic. I don't want anyone to say MC is weak anymore. MC from the very start could solo the verse. I've dropped so many different hints about his specific powers, and such. Tell me what your theory is.
I apologize for posting late; my insomnia is messing with me, even with sleep pills. my thoughts are constantly groggy.
Have you ever tried mixing Red Bull with coffee? Don't do it. It only gives you heart problems and makes you jittery.
I've set an official release schedule: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Although when I get bored, I add extra.
Bonus chapters will drop on Saturdays if my demands are met. 🔫
Trade deal:
You give me 150 power stones, and I give you a bonus chapter.
Sounds fair, right?)