A certain boy sat cross-legged in the cool grass on the front lawn of Roswaal Manor. Today was the day Natsuki Subaru would take his first steps toward becoming a grand magic user. He could already imagine it.
He'd managed to complete his work today without a single misstep, and with help from Rem, had even managed to finish early. It was only a little past lunchtime, and everything was looking perfect.
The weather had graced him with sunny skies, the birds were singing songs of encouragement, and the warm wind made him feel at peace.
"Is this what the first steps towards enlightenment feel like?" He idly asked Rem, who was sitting on a blanket nearby.
"I'm not sure what 'enlightenment' you can gain by simply sitting down on a normal day," she replied.
But Natsuki Subaru was never one to be put down so easily, well, most of the time. But when it came to the pursuit of fantasy elements, his mood certainly couldn't be brought down.
After sitting still for a couple minutes longer, he finally heard the faint rustle and tap of footsteps approaching. With practically the entire mansion gone with Emilia to Costuul, there was only one other resident still around.
"Beako!" Subaru shouted while glancing over his shoulder.
Approaching the servant duo was the resident loli of the manor. Beatrice was dressed in her usual pink dress with white fuzzy trimmings, and Subaru found himself wondering if she had any other outfits. She only ever seemed to wear that one dress. It seemed like a waste considering how cute she was.
'Maybe if I find the time, I could try my hand at making her something?' he wondered as he eyed Beatrice's form. 'Then again, while my sewing skills are good, I'm not sure they're that good.'
"If you keep staring at me like that, I might just have to blind you, I suppose." The small girl spoke with a tone that Subaru felt was completely at odds with her adorable appearance.
"Hey, hey! I'm just thinking about something, no need for violence on such a nice day." The boy smiled while gesturing to the sky. "What is it I always tell you, Beako? You should smile more!"
Rather than improve her mood, his comment seemed to have the opposite effect. With a light swish of her finger, an invisible orb of compressed air clocked Subaru right in the forehead.
The magic had a lot of weight behind it, but little force, so all it did was gently push him over. He flopped onto the grass with a laugh, much to the exasperation of a certain spirit.
"Haah... what an obnoxious boy. I don't see how you and your sister deal with such energy, in fact." Beatrice turned to Rem, who had been sitting nearby with an amused smile playing at her lips.
"He can be a bit of a handful at times, but I feel his enthusiasm is something to be admired on occasion." The maid explained.
"Admired?" Beatrice gave the maid an odd look, one eyebrow raised skeptically, before giving a small shrug and sighing once more. "How troublesome. I am still not convinced this will be worth the effort, in fact." She crossed her arms, her expression settling into one of annoyed apprehension.
Subaru shot up from where he'd been sprawled on the grass, propping himself up on his elbows with a smirk.
"Oh, come on, Beako! Just think about it. If you manage to train up a guy like me and turn me into a crazy strong protagonist capable of one-shotting a final boss, all during the time Puck is gone, then he'll have to praise you like crazy when he gets back!"
Subaru sat up fully and clasped his hands together, tilting his head and speaking in a strange, high-pitched tone that was clearly meant to mimic Puck's voice: "Oh, my dear Betty! You're such an exceptional teacher. I always knew you were amazing!"
Beatrice simply stared at him with a completely deadpan expression, her arms still crossed.
"Do you take me for a fool, in fact?"
Subaru shrunk under her flat stare, his shoulders hunching as he sank back down toward the grass. He opened his mouth to try another explanation, but Beatrice sighed, possibly the third time in only the span of five minutes, and began walking toward him.
"Fine. I will take pity on a sorry child like yourself, I suppose." She stopped just in front of him, looking down with an expression of weary resignation. "However, whether you can cast magic is entirely dependent on yourself."
"Alright!" Subaru cheered, his posture immediately perking back up. He sat up straight and pressed his palms together in front of his chest, bowing his head in an exaggerated manner. "Teach me, oh wise one! This humble student is ready to learn!"
"First of all—" Beatrice planted her hands on her hips, looking down at him with the air of a teacher addressing a particularly troublesome student. "—do you know how to use any magic?"
"Nope!" Subaru replied cheerfully, shaking his head.
"Have you ever had somebody inspect your gate?" She raised one eyebrow, though her expression suggested she already knew the answer.
"What's a gate?"
Beatrice stared at the boy in silence for a long moment, her face completely blank.
"You're beyond hopeless, in fact." She pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers, her eyes closing briefly. "I'm not sure why I even had the assumption that you might possibly be smarter than a ground dragon, I suppose."
"Uh—" Subaru rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his eyes darting away. "—I just grew up in a place where nobody used magic, so..."
"Right." Beatrice dropped her hand back to her side with another small sigh. "Well, let's begin with something basic. I'm going to check what your affinity is."
"Ooooh!" Subaru's eyes lit up, and he leaned forward eagerly. "That sounds like something totally fantasy-like! Will I be able to use fire like a—"
Beatrice tuned out the boy's senseless rambling, already feeling a headache forming from his endless energy. She stepped closer and, without ceremony, pressed her dainty palm firmly against his forehead.
Subaru's mouth snapped shut mid-sentence, his eyes widening slightly at the contact.
The spirit sent a pulse of mana from herself into his gate, her expression becoming focused as she watched to see which elements of magic responded positively.
"Hmm... this is..." she began, and Subaru practically vibrated in place, his whole body tensing with anticipation. His hands gripped his knees tightly.
"...rather pathetic, in fact."
Subaru's entire posture deflated like a balloon losing air. His shoulders slumped forward, his head drooping, and his grip on his knees loosened.
"You have an affinity for Yin magic, but your gate is quite weak, I suppose." Beatrice withdrew her hand, her tone matter-of-fact. "With just a single poorly controlled spell, you would be out of mana. If you truly pushed it and used two basic spells in a row, I believe your gate would collapse."
Subaru's hands slowly curled into fists against his thighs, his knuckles whitening slightly. He stared down at the grass, his jaw tight. The crushing weight of feeling like a failure pressed down on him once more, that familiar, suffocating sensation he'd felt so many times before.
But he couldn't give up. He had to look at the silver lining. Had to at least try.
He lifted his head, though his voice came out lower than before. "Well... what's Yin magic? You said I could at least cast a basic spell, right?" His eyes searched her face with desperate hope, even as his shoulders remained hunched. "Are there useful ones?"
Beatrice looked at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, something flickering behind her eyes that Subaru couldn't quite place. Then the look passed, and she shifted her body, drawing herself up to her full (limited) height with a haughty expression as she puffed out her chest.
Though considering how small she was, it only served to draw a thin smile from Subaru despite his disappointment.
"Of course Yin magic is useful." She lifted her chin with exaggerated pride, one hand moving to rest against her chest. "And considering just how generous I am, I will grant you but a fragment of my vast wisdom, in fact. After all, I am certainly one of the best Yin magic users around, I suppose."
Subaru looked at her, and understood that, in her own awkward way, Beatrice was trying to cheer him up.
Right. He couldn't give up. Not anymore. This was a new world, with new experiences to be had. Little setbacks shouldn't drag him down the way they used to. None of that moping around from Earth. He had magic, even if it was weak, that was still better than nothing.
"Then I'll be learning from the best, Beako." He said, and this time his grin reached his eyes, his posture straightening, and his shoulders rolling back as some of his natural energy began to return.
—
Melyn shifted his weight nervously, peering around Ethan for what must have been the sixth time in thirty seconds. Paranoid would certainly be a fine way to describe his current state of mind.
Those guardsmen were getting closer. He could see them now, maybe three or four carriages back, methodically checking each wagon. His heart hammered against his ribs with every step they took in his direction.
"So, Sir Caldwell," he said, trying and failing to keep the anxiety from creeping into his voice. "How exactly are we going to fix this?"
Ethan looked him up and down with those unsettling golden eyes, then turned and walked toward the back of Melyn's wagon without a word. His movements were deliberate, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world despite the approaching guards.
"I would have to hope you have the proper paperwork," Ethan said, examining the crated cargo. His tone was as light as if he were discussing the weather. "Receipts, proof of purchase, and of course, some means of identification."
There was an odd confidence radiating from the man. Not arrogance exactly, just... certainty. Like he'd already solved the problem and was simply going through the motions of explaining it.
Melyn felt a small surge of his own confidence at that. Not just from Ethan's calm demeanor, but because he actually had all those things. What kind of merchant would he be if he didn't carry such essential documentation?
"I—yes! Yes, I have all of that!" He hurried to his wagon, fumbling with the leather satchel tucked beneath the driver's seat. His hands were still shaking, but at least now it was from nervous energy rather than pure despair. "The seller in Fleur gave me everything. Bills of sale, certification that the firestones are transport-grade, my merchant's license from—"
He stopped, papers clutched in his trembling hands, and looked back at Ethan.
"But... even with all this, they're still going to arrest me, aren't they?" The fear crept back into Melyn's voice. "After what happened at the gate, after the explosion, they won't care about paperwork. They'll just assume I'm—"
"They will," Ethan interrupted, finally turning those gold eyes back on him. "If you continue to act like a sinner attempting to hide something."
Ethan stepped closer to him, an amused smirk on his face.
"You are not a sinner, are you, Melyn?"
Melyn's throat went dry. "What?"
Ethan merely shook his head, that same entertained look flickering through his eyes as a smile played on his lips.
"Now, tell me what a witch cultist would do in your situation?"
Melyn stuttered, his mind scrambling at both the question and the man's strange antics. "Uhm, they'd probably—"
"They would not be panicking," Ethan cut him off, his tone matter-of-fact. "And they certainly would not present themselves willingly before the guard."
Melyn blinked. That… made sense. A cultist would try to hide and do whatever it was that those lunatics did.
But then it hit him.
Wait.
Wait.
"You want me to just tell the guards what I have?!" The words came out as a strangled hiss. His eyes went wide with disbelief.
That was just expediting the process of getting his head mounted on a pike! He should have never trusted Ethan Caldwell for even a second!
The man was clearly deranged, probably going to turn him in for some kind of reward, this was—
"Silence." Ethan's voice cut through his spiraling panic with a bored tone. "Do not begin your ceaseless prattling, it would do nothing but grate on my charitable mood."
Before Melyn could even process that absurd statement, Ethan spun on his heel with fluid precision and raised one arm high, waving it in a broad, deliberate gesture toward the approaching guardsmen.
"Excuse me!" he called out, his voice carrying easily over the ambient noise of the traffic jam. "I need to speak with you regarding a security concern!"
Melyn's heart stopped.
The guards' heads snapped toward them immediately, hands instinctively shifting the grip on their weapons. The dog Demi-human's ears perked up fully forward, and the lizard's tail went rigid with alertness.
"What are you DOING?!" Melyn grabbed Ethan's arm, his voice barely a whisper but filled with absolute terror. His face had gone pale as fresh snow.
Ethan glanced down at the hand gripping his sleeve, then back up at Melyn with an expression that bordered on annoyance.
"Fixing your problem," he said simply. "Now let go and allow me to work."
The guards were already moving toward them, their casual patrol gait shifting to something more purposeful.
Melyn released Ethan's arm and took an involuntary step back, feeling like he was watching his own execution approach in real-time.
—
I stared blankly for a couple seconds, that half-smile still plastered on my face as Melyn was led away by the guards.
His paperwork had looked fine, and the guards had determined that he likely wasn't a threat, but additional questioning would still be necessary.
But judging by the overall demeanor of the two demi-human's who'd calmly led him away, I felt that I had succeeded.
"Well then, gentlemen," I turned to address the new squad of guardsmen who had arrived to reinforce the first pair, though in the end their attention seemed more focused on me than the merchant. "Shall we locate my carriage?"
One of the older guards, a human with graying temples and the bearing of a veteran, stepped forward and offered a respectful nod. "Yes, Lord Caldwell. If you would lead the way."
Lord Caldwell.
I felt the smile on my face deepen, growing more genuine, or perhaps just more satisfied. I gave an appropriately magnanimous nod and began walking back toward Emilia's carriage, the guards falling into step around me with deference.
I'd done an excellent job. Twisting little truths, wearing masks suitable for the moment, playing the part with such conviction that even the most skeptical had been forced to accept it.
I was no longer "Ethan Caldwell, wanderer." In this moment, with these men, I was the Advisor to Lady Emilia, Royal Candidate of Lugunica (even if these simpletons didn't know what a royal candidate was), and a mage under the employ of Margrave Roswaal L. Mathers. I was someone worthy of respect, whose words carried weight.
All mostly lies.
Or perhaps not lies, but... generous interpretations of the truth. Embellishments. Exaggerations of authority I didn't technically possess but could convincingly claim.
The sheer confidence my Authority had flooded through my veins made it remarkably easy to spin those falsehoods. To deliver them with such unshakeable conviction that even I found myself half-believing the performance.
Striding down the road of caravans with a pep in my step, I watched with distant amusement as the merchants stared at me in confusion. Clearly I was somebody of some level of importance, to receive escort by guards, yet not be in chains.
Eventually I spotted the pink hair of a certain maid. Ram was quick to notice both me and, more importantly, the four guardsmen trailing close behind.
With a frown clearly present on her face, she dropped down from the driver's seat and fixed me with an unimpressed stare.
"Caldwell, I believe you said you were going to—"
This was not the time for lesser doubts. I needed a little more confidence for this. Failure at this critical moment could lead to the guards possibly turning on me, and things getting messy.
Click
Reason and Judgment
Time froze around me, and with the absence of time came the absence of my fears. Replaced by the soothing warmth of my Authority and that intoxicating confidence.
'This triviality is not a problem, certainly not something worth stressing over. It's fortunate that we possessed the foresight to make use of our Authority before speaking.'
I studied Ram's frozen expression with an unshakable calm.
'We don't need to convince Ram of our purpose. While her veneer of cold professionalism could be misconstrued as anger by a less perceptive individual, it's clear to us that she is merely caught off guard, and not outright hostile.'
'The guards who follow us are relaxed, and we are not in chains. So why should she have reason to believe that we have brought trouble with us?'
I internally nodded at that.
'Regardless, we should steer the conversation. Our careful touch can prevent any misunderstandings from blooming. The maid will catch on. She may act aloof, but she is no fool. There is a reason the Clown saw fit to assign her to Emilia's service.'
I let time flow forward, my Authority straightening my posture, it wouldn't do for a lord to show any weakness.
"Ah, Miss Ram," I cut her off smoothly before she could ruin anything, "Would you kindly inform these gentlemen of our connection to the esteemed Lord Roswaal? It would be much appreciated."
Ram's visible eye narrowed fractionally. The silence stretched for a heartbeat, before she shifted her attention to the guards flanking me.
Her expression smoothed into perfect neutrality, though I caught the faintest flicker of calculation behind her gaze.
"Naturally," she said, her tone carrying that particular blend of boredom and superiority she wielded so effortlessly. "Sir Caldwell serves as advisor to Lady Emilia, the royal candidate whom Lord Roswaal has chosen to support." She reached into her sleeve and produced a folded document bearing an unmistakable seal. "I am Ram, servant of the Roswaal Manor. Perhaps this will suffice as verification?"
The guards' postures shifted immediately at the sight of Roswaal's seal. The graying veteran stepped forward to examine it, his weathered hands careful as he unfolded the document.
"I see… this does appear to be the proper seal of Margrave Mathers." The guard looked up from the document. "I wasn't actually aware of any royal candidates, stuff from the capital, I guess? In any case, Lord Caldwell, if you and your Lady Emilia would be willing to be escorted, we can get you out of this traffic, and into a meeting with Captain Balstrom. He'll get you sorted."
"Of course," I agreed calmly, as if I'd expected nothing less. "I'm certain Lady Emilia will be pleased to meet with your captain. She does need to familiarize herself with the city's leadership, after all."
The guard nodded, already turning to bark orders at his companions about arranging priority passage through the gate.
With one last silent exchanged look between Ram and me,, I silently excused myself and made my way to the passenger door of Emilia's carriage and climbed inside.
Emilia looked up from the paper she'd been studying, and her face immediately brightened with that warm, sincere smile that somehow always caught me off guard.
Instantly, I felt the artificial cloak of confidence from my Authority vaporize. The Pride-fueled certainty, the manipulative calculation, the cold satisfaction, all of it simply... evaporated, like morning mist under sunlight.
A more genuine smile formed on my face as I settled into the seat opposite Emilia. Puck was curled up in her lap, the small spirit's eyes tracking me with boredom.
"Ethan!" Emilia set her papers aside, tilting her head with curiosity. "Did you manage to figure out what's going on?"
She rested her head in the palm of her hand while she waited for my response, those amethyst eyes focused entirely on me.
"I was successful, Lia." I announced with a theatrical flourish of my arms that probably looked ridiculous but felt right in the moment.
Emilia made an interested "ohhhh" sound while I nodded in an exaggerated, faux-smug manner.
"Unfortunately, all this traffic is because of a suspected attack on the gate by the Witch Cult almost a week ago. Now the city is slightly paranoid of anybody passing through."
I watched a small frown grow on Emilia's face.
"That's awful. I hope that not many people were hurt in the attack." She immediately emphasized with the victims, and I found myself slightly stunned.
I'd not thought about that aspect of things at all. Merely seeing the terrorist attack as a nuisance that was slowing me down. Not a tragedy that might have claimed lives.
When had I grown so callous?
"Yeah, I hope so too." I agreed, while scratching the back of my head. "Uhm, grim things aside, I do have better news. I managed to get us a priority pass to skip ahead of all this traffic."
The moment I said that, the carriage lurched slightly and began moving forward.
Both of us turned to look out the right window. One of the carriages that had been hemming us in was being maneuvered out of the way by two of the guardsmen who'd accompanied me earlier. The owner of the wagon wasn't particularly pleased, but didn't fuss much.
"See?" I said with a forced grin, gesturing at the now-clearing path.
"How did you manage to do that, Ethan?" Emilia's eyes widened with surprise and what might have been a touch of admiration.
Immediately, I was reminded that I'd kind of lied about a bunch of things to a group of people.
"I just told them we were with Roswaal and that you were a royal candidate," I explained with a casual shrug. "The guardsmen didn't seem to know anything about that, so unfortunately, you've now got a meeting with the gate captain."
Emilia looked thoughtful for a moment, her finger tapping against her chin.
"I suppose it makes sense they wouldn't know I'm a royal candidate yet. The selection hasn't publicly started, has it?" She tilted her head in that particular way she did when working through a problem, and yes, it was cute, not that I'd admit that out loud. "Do you have any idea what the gate captain might want to talk about?"
"Probably confirmation that you actually are a royal candidate," I said, ticking off points on my fingers. "Past that, my guess would be him questioning why you're actually here. Security's tight after the attack, so they'll want to know your business in the city."
Then I snapped my fingers as something occurred to me.
"Ah, but Roswaal has had this event prepared in advance, right? Maybe the captain actually knows you're coming and just wants to confirm it's really you?"
Emilia nodded slowly, seeming to accept that logic. But then she suddenly shook her head rapidly, her silver hair swishing with the motion.
"Ahh, this all feels so stressful!" She pressed both hands against her stomach. "I've got butterflies in my tummy!"
Despite her attempt to keep up that brave, confident front she'd been building, the cracks were showing. This was her first real foray into the complicated world of politics and public appearances. Of course she was nervous.
Puck, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet up until now, finally decided to make his presence known. He floated up from Emilia's lap, reaching out one tiny paw to pat her forehead.
"There's no need to stress so much, Lia," the spirit said in his softest, most reassuring tone. "You're going to do great. I know you will."
Internally, I winced.
That was the most bare-bones, generic reassurance I'd ever heard. "You'll do great" didn't address any of her actual concerns, didn't give her anything concrete to hold onto. It was the conversational equivalent of patting someone on the head and hoping they'd figure it out themselves.
'Come on, cat. You can do better than that.'
But Puck just continued hovering there with that encouraging smile, apparently thinking his job was done.
I sighed and leaned forward slightly, drawing Emilia's attention back to me.
"It's not the gate captain that has you stressed, right, Lia?" I kept my voice gentle. "It's the speech. Having to stand up in front of hundreds of people."
She nodded quietly, her fingers still twisted together in her lap.
"I've never had to do any public speaking myself," I admitted. "But I think what you need to do is just focus on the message. You're there to convey something important to these people, something you believe in. Your message, the one that hopefully resonates with them and draws them to your side."
I reached across the carriage and gently took her hands in mine, untangling her anxious grip.
"I personally approve of the entire thing, by the way," I added with a small smile. "Every word."
Her eyes met mine, wide and uncertain but listening.
"And it's not like you're incapable of articulating that message. Not anymore."
"You stopped stuttering and hiccuping after just two days of practice," I continued, rubbing my thumbs gently across her knuckles. "By the time we reached Crossveil, it felt like you didn't even need the written script anymore."
Emilia's expression shifted slightly, some of the panic easing as she focused on my words instead of her spiraling thoughts.
"Listen, Lia," I said firmly. "You failing here? It's not possible. And if you're worried that the people won't listen based on your appearance alone, remember everything we strategized to counter that."
I gave her hands a light squeeze.
"And I know you already know this, but Puck and I will be right there by your side the entire time. You're not doing this alone."
For a moment, Emilia just stared at our joined hands, her breathing slowly evening out. Then she looked back up at me, and a small smile formed on her face.
"Thank you, Ethan," she whispered. "I... I needed to hear that."
"Anytime, my partner." I grinned back before letting go of her hands.
Puck floated down, and gave me rapid nods of approval, and then a paw up.
'You bipolar cat, one moment you hate me, the next you cheer me on. You go from wanting to freeze me to death, to sleeping in the same bed as me.' I mumbled in my mind while laying a flat stare at the cat
"Ethan said it perfectly, I'll be right there with you, Lia. And if you're still worried, you still have all of today to practice a little more."
"Mhm! Thank you Puck, thank you, Ethan. I'll have to give it my all!" Emilia beamed, suddenly looking much more energetic.
—
The carriage rolled to a stop just before the massive southern gateway, and I felt my breath catch slightly at the sheer scale of it.
Costuul's walls were monumental. Easily fifty feet high and thick enough that I could probably fit three carriages side-by-side in the gateway tunnel. The stones were a dark gray, weathered by time and elements, but the craftsmanship was impeccable.
Except where the explosion had torn through.
Finally, I was seeing physical evidence of the cause for all the heightened security and traffic backed up for hours.
The damage was immediately visible. A large section of the archway's left side was scorched black, the stone cracked and pitted from the supposed fire-stone detonation caused by the Witch Cult.
Chunks were missing entirely, leaving jagged gaps that had been hastily patched with newer, lighter-colored stone that stood out like scars. Wooden scaffolding clung to the damaged sections, and I could see workers, or perhaps military engineers, moving about even now, continuing repairs.
I felt a frown form.
I'd been toying with the theory since the moment I'd heard from Melyn about whom the suspects were. Because I knew someone who matched all the details and was very likely responsible for this destruction.
'It was totally that bastard Lucan, wasn't it?'
He was certainly part of the Cult. He'd told me he was heading to Costuul. And most damning of all, he'd had a large supply of fire stones on hand when we'd crossed paths.
The pieces fit together too neatly to be coincidence.
Shaking my head in mild disbelief, I turned and offered my hand to help Emilia descend from the carriage. She took it with that growing confidence she'd been developing, her amethyst eyes immediately drawn to the damaged gateway with open curiosity.
Once on solid ground, she refused to let go of my hand, opting instead to intertwine our fingers together, and we both turned to face an approaching guardsman.
It was the same veteran who'd accompanied me earlier and led us out of the traffic jam.
"... Lady Emilia." His voice carried a note of apprehension as he finally caught sight of her, his gaze lingering on her silver hair for just a moment too long before he quickly shifted his attention. "Lord Caldwell." Suddenly his tone relaxed considerably, his focus settling firmly on my face instead. "If you would please follow me, Gate Captain Balstrom would like to see you... both."
He continued to address only me, despite Emilia standing right there.
'You rude little bastard,' was my first thought. But then I remembered how I'd wanted to cast a spell and cleave Emilia in two when I'd first met her in the capital, the guard was being rather tame all things considered.
Of course, that had only been because an hour prior I'd been tortured by the very Witch that everyone accused Emilia of being due to her resemblance.
Fear born from association was hard to overcome, even when you knew better.
Emilia's reaction wasn't to take offense at the man's clear discomfort with her presence. Instead, she offered him a polite smile that somehow managed to be both genuine and unbothered.
"Thank you for all your help in allowing us to move ahead of the line," she said, her voice gentle and warm.
The guard looked at her, and gave a stiff nod, before turning to lead us toward the gate.
Moving past the carriage, Ram gracefully dropped from the driver's seat, landing with that effortless poise she always seemed to maintain. There was a pleased look on her face, or at least, as pleased as Ram ever looked.
"Excellent work, Caldwell," she said, her tone carrying her usual dry inflection but with an undercurrent of approval. "I thought your foolish plan might land us on the execution block, but it seems we have indeed managed quicker entry."
I couldn't tell if that was a compliment or an insult.
"Glad I could exceed your rather low expectations," I replied with a straight face.
'Huh, guess I'm just Caldwell now, rather than honored guest or Sir. What changed?'
Ram's visible eye narrowed, but there was the faintest hint of amusement there. "Do not misunderstand. My expectations remain appropriately low. You simply happened to stumble into competence this time."
"Is that so," I muttered.
'Yeesh, guess any respect she feigned toward me is gone too.'
Emilia squeezed my hand gently, and when I glanced at her, she was smiling at our back and forth with that particular expression that suggested she found us both silly.
The guard ahead of us cleared his throat, drawing our attention back. "This way, please. The captain is waiting."
The man led us through the gateway tunnel, our footsteps echoing off the stone walls as we moved from the bright afternoon sunlight into the cooler shadows of the fortification.
We emerged on the other side into what I'd expected to be the city proper, but instead found ourselves in a large courtyard area still contained within the defensive perimeter.
Guard posts flanked either side, and multiple checkpoints were set up where travelers were being systematically processed.
Off to the left of the space, I managed to spot Melyn. Not being executed, just talking with a couple guards who nodded now and then as the young man rambled on and on.
"This way, please," our escort gestured toward the wall itself, specifically, toward a reinforced door set into the massive fortification. Two guards in full plate flanked it, and above the entrance I could see the symbol of The Dragon Kingdom carved into the stone.
We approached the door, and I realized with growing understanding that we were about to enter the wall's interior. The fortification was so massive that it housed entire facilities within its structure.
The plated guards gave our escort a sharp nod of recognition, then pulled open the heavy door. Cool air wafted out from the darkened interior, along with the smell of stone, oil, and metal.
Beyond the threshold, I could see a corridor lit by magic stones set into sconces along the walls. The passage stretched deeper into the fortification, and I could hear the distant sounds of activity, boots on stone, voices calling orders, the general ambient noise of a military installation.
"Captain Balstrom's command room is this way," the veteran guard said, stepping into the corridor first. "Stay close, if you please. Easy to get turned around in here if you don't know the way."
We followed the man into the wall.
The corridor was wider than I'd expected, easily enough for four people to walk abreast. The walls were the same dark gray stone as the exterior, but here they were marked with directional symbols and what looked like section numbers.
Through winding corridors and up a series of stairs we went, until finally our escort stopped before a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron bands. Unlike the rough functionality of most doors we'd passed, this one was well-crafted and bore the Lugunican crest burned into the wood.
Two guards in impeccable armor stood at attention on either side. They wore the same plate as the others, but white cloaks with red accents covered up much of it.
"Here for the captain, as requested," the veteran guard announced to the door guards.
One of the door guards nodded and rapped three times on the door with an armored fist.
A voice from within called out something I couldn't quite make out, muffled by the thick wood and one of the guards gripped the iron handle and pulled the door open, stepping aside to allow us entry.
Our escort gestured for us to enter. "Captain Balstrom will see you now."
I stepped through first, Emilia close behind me, with Ram bringing up the rear. The door closed behind us with a solid thunk.
The command room was... not what I'd expected.
Half of it was exactly what you'd anticipate from a military officer's headquarters. A large, sturdy desk dominated the center, its surface covered in neat stacks of reports, duty rosters, and what looked like incident logs.
Maps hung on the walls, detailed tactical maps of Costuul, the surrounding territory, and the border regions with Gusteko. Red markers indicated patrol routes, defensive positions, and what I assumed were recent points of interest.
But the other half of the room was slightly surprising.
Books. Shelves upon shelves of them, crammed floor to ceiling along the entire left wall. Not military manuals or strategic treatises, though I spotted a few of those mixed in, but texts on magical theory, elemental manipulation, and mana flow dynamics.
It looked like someone had taken a scholar's personal library and shoved in here.
And standing behind the desk, with a book still in his hands and a finger marking his place, was Captain Balstrom.
He was young. Considerably younger than I'd expected for someone commanding a fortress city's gate. Late twenties at most, with sharp, intelligent features and indigo colored hair pulled back in a practical tail. But what really stood out was his attire.
No armor. No military regalia beyond a single badge of rank pinned to his chest.
Instead, he wore robes. Pristine white robes with intricate black and gold trimming that ran along the collar, cuffs, and hem in patterns that crawled up the sleeves and crashed like waves along his chest.
He looked more like he belonged in a magic academy than watching a gate.
Balstrom set his book down, carefully marking the page with a leather bookmark, and straightened to his full height. When he spoke, his voice carried an easy confidence that immediately explained how someone so young held such a position.
"Welcome to Costuul." He stepped around his desk with smooth, unhurried movements. "I'm Gate Captain Marcus Balstrom. I understand you brought a security concern to my men's attention?"
His gaze swept across our group with sharp assessment, lingering briefly on each of us.
Both Emilia and Ram looked at me with confusion, and I suddenly remembered that I'd never actually explained what I'd done to get guards to follow me in the first place.
'Right. Probably should have mentioned that during the carriage ride.'
"Indeed I did, Captain," I said, keeping my tone respectful. "My name is Ethan Caldwell, advisor to Lady Emilia." I gestured politely toward Emilia beside me. "The young man now under your men's watchful supervision was merely someone in unfortunate circumstances. I couldn't stand by and allow him to potentially make a grave mistake."
I kept the explanation deliberately vague, no need to go into excessive detail about Melyn's situation unless he pressed for it.
"Is that so?" Balstrom's navy blue eyes seemed to pierce through me for a moment, before his attention shifted to Emilia and Ram. When his gaze settled on Emilia, something flickered in his expression. "Lady Emilia, you have quite the intriguing appearance. It is my understanding that you are to hold a speech here in the city, correct?"
I felt Emilia's hand tighten around mine, she'd never let go since the carriage, our fingers still connected.
She straightened up at being addressed directly, her posture stiffening for just a moment. But then she seemed to steady herself, and I felt her squeeze my hand once. The tension melted from her shoulders, replaced by a more confident bearing. Her posture remained straight, but now it was self-assured rather than defensive.
A relaxed smile formed on her face as she gave the captain a polite bow of her head, not deferential or submissive, but polite. An acknowledgment between equals. She didn't let go of my hand, and somehow that made the gesture even more composed. Like she had nothing to hide.
"That would be correct, Captain Balstrom," she said, her voice steady and at ease. "I believe my sponsor, Lord Roswaal L. Mathers, should have informed the city administration in advance of my visit. Is my understanding correct?"
I felt a small surge of pride watching her handle herself so smoothly. This was a far cry from the nervous, stuttering Emilia.
'Though… while I personally don't mind, her insistence on holding my hand in these types of meetings is probably scandalous.'
Balstrom nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. If he noticed or cared about our joined hands, he gave no indication.
"Indeed, we received correspondence from Margrave Mathers some days ago regarding a royal candidate visiting Costuul to address the citizenry." His gaze moved back to me briefly, then to Ram, before returning to Emilia. "Though I'll admit, the concept of royal candidates is new to me. The capital's political developments don't always reach us in a timely manner."
There was no embarrassment in his admission, just a matter-of-fact acknowledgment of reality.
"I can certainly understand that, Captain," Emilia said with a gracious nod. "The Royal Selection itself hasn't publicly begun yet. Lord Roswaal felt it prudent that I begin establishing myself early, hence this visit to one of Lugunica's Great Cities."
'Too much information, Lia.' I mentally chided. 'We gain nothing by telling him such things, silly.' I kept my outward appearance blank, this was a learning experience for Emilia. I didn't want nor need to carefully control her every action.
"A wise strategy," Balstrom acknowledged. He moved back toward his desk, leaning against it casually rather than sitting behind it, maintaining a more conversational atmosphere. "Though I must admit, the timing is... less than ideal."
His expression darkened slightly.
"I assume you're aware of the Witch Cult's attack on our gate nearly a week ago?"
Emilia's face immediately shifted to concern, and I felt her grip on my hand tighten again, this time from emotion.
"Yes, we heard about it on the road. I'm so sorry for what happened to your city, Captain. Were there many casualties?"
Balstrom's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"Three of my soldiers were killed in the explosion. Another dozen injured, and that's not even covering the innocents caught nearby. The southern gate is one of the busiest in the city. We had hundreds nearby when the crystals went off. " His voice carried restrained anger, not the hot and impulsive kind, but the cold, focused variety.
"The structural damage to the gate has been... significant. As you likely noticed on your way in."
"I did," Emilia said softly. "I can't imagine how difficult this has been for everyone here."
There was genuine empathy in her voice, and I saw Balstrom's expression soften slightly in response to it.
"Your sympathy is appreciated, Lady Emilia," he said. "But it brings me to my main concern regarding your speech."
He straightened, his demeanor shifting back to that of a military commander.
"A public gathering of citizens in an open plaza, mere days after a terrorist attack on this very city, presents a significant security risk. I would be failing in my duty if I didn't express my concerns about this event proceeding as planned."
The room went quiet for a moment.
I could see Emilia processing his words, feel it in the way her grip changed in my hand. It was clear from her posture that she didn't want to give up.
But before she could respond, Balstrom continued, his tone carrying a note of resignation.
"But alas, it would seem Margrave Mathers carries considerable influence in this city. The decision has already been made by those above my station."
He crossed his arms, his expression settling into professional acceptance. "We'll have additional security measures put in place for you, Lady Emilia. My authority doesn't extend far beyond this gate, but I can assure you my fellow guardsmen will do their duty."
"I appreciate your diligence, Captain Balstrom," Emilia said, and I could hear the relief in her voice despite her attempt to sound composed. "I understand your concerns are well-founded. I promise to cooperate fully with whatever security protocols you and your fellow officers deem necessary."
Balstrom's expression softened slightly at her earnest response.
"That's all I can ask for, Lady Emilia." He pushed off from his desk. "I'm certain a security liaison will meet with you tomorrow morning before the speech. They'll coordinate with your party and ensure everyone understands the safety measures in place."
He moved toward a cabinet against the wall, pulling out what looked like official documents.
"For now, I'll need to process your entry into the city properly. Documentation from Margrave Mathers, verification of identity, the standard procedures." His gaze shifted to Ram. "I assume you have the necessary papers?"
—
Subaru grinned as he held Beatrice's tiny hand in his left, while raising his right hand and aiming his palm at the tree before him.
His heart was pounding with excitement as he prepared to cast his very first magic spell.
Beatrice had explained that Yin magic dealt with things that sounded like debuffs, but there were also far cooler applications, like the manipulation of space itself. Even her Door Crossing technique was made through Yin magic.
Subaru had visions of teleporting around a battlefield while opening voids of darkness beneath his foes, becoming some kind of anime protagonist with reality-warping powers.
A sudden pinch on his left hand almost made him squeak, which would have been awfully embarrassing. Taking the hint for what it was, Subaru focused.
With Beako helping regulate the flow of mana from his gate, he felt the strange, almost ticklish sensation of energy seeping through his newly-discovered organ. The mana channeled outward through his arm, pooling at his palm, forming something tangible in the air before him.
"Minya!" He shouted with perhaps more enthusiasm than necessary.
A small purple crystal, no bigger than a shot glass, materialized and floated in the air before his outstretched hand. Purplish flames licked around the edges of the magical construct, flickering with an otherworldly quality that made the hair on Subaru's arms stand up.
With an instinctive flicker of will, the crystal shot forward like a bullet.
CRACK!
It lodged itself into the tree trunk with a solid impact. The bark surrounding the point of contact began to crystallize, spreading outward in intricate patterns like frost on a window. Then the entire crystallized section shattered, sending fragments scattering across the grass.
"EPIC!" Subaru screamed in pure, unfiltered joy, pumping his free fist in the air. "Did you see that?! I just did magic! Real, actual magic!"
"Great job, Subaru!" Rem was quick to congratulate him, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm. She'd been standing beside him the entire time, watching with that gentle smile she wore when he was being particularly enthusiastic about something.
"Hmm. That was... acceptable, I suppose." Beatrice offered her assessment with a small nod, though Subaru caught the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth despite her attempt to sound merely tolerant. "For a first attempt with such a pathetic gate, I will admit that you showed adequate focus."
In a burst of pure happiness, Subaru leaned down and scooped Beatrice up in a hug, lifting her clear off the ground. Without thinking, he spun around in a circle, the small spirit still held in his arms.
"Kyaa!" Beatrice let out what could only be described as a dignified shriek, first surprise, then embarrassment, then pure indignation at the audacity of this foolish boy who dared to pick her up like some kind of doll.
"You absolute fool! Put me down this instant, in fact!" She pounded her small fists against his chest, though there was no real heat behind the strikes. More like she felt obligated to protest rather than actually wanting him to stop.
"You're the absolute best, Beako!" Subaru gushed, still spinning. "You were totally right! I can do magic! Real, actual magic! This is the best day ever!"
His unfiltered enthusiasm seemed to short-circuit whatever complaint Beatrice had been building up. She went completely silent, her mouth hanging open slightly as she processed the fact that someone was this happy because of her teaching.
Her face, already pale, somehow managed to turn an even lighter shade as a faint blush crept across her cheeks.
"I..." she stammered, completely off-balance. "That is to say... of course I was right, I suppose. I am always right, in fact."
But her voice had lost all its usual haughty confidence, coming out almost shy instead.
"Subaru," Rem interjected gently, barely suppressing her amusement at the scene. "I think your enthusiasm might be causing Lady Beatrice some distress. Perhaps you should put her down?"
"Hm? Oh! Right, sorry Beako!" Subaru finally set her back down on the grass, still grinning like an idiot.
Beatrice immediately smoothed down her dress with exaggerated dignity, trying to recover her composure. Her face was still slightly flushed, and she refused to make eye contact with either of them.
"Hmph. Your gratitude is... not entirely unwelcome, I suppose," she muttered, crossing her arms. "But you will refrain from such undignified displays in the future, in fact!"
"No promises!" Subaru chirped, earning himself another indignant huff from the spirit.
Despite her protests, Subaru noticed she was still smiling, just a little.
—
Author's Yap Session:
We're getting dual plotlines right now, hope it's not too clashing. While Ethan finally gets to Costuul, Subaru is unleashing his true magical potential!
Lemme know if I made any errors in this one. It's kind of hard to be both author and editor. You read through a chapter enough times and it all starts to blur together.
I will be publishing a second chapter today as my form of penance for being gone for two weeks. Life gets to ya.