Roswaal did not answer immediately.
The silence that followed was long enough to become uncomfortable.
Long enough for the lantern flame to crackle.
Long enough for me to hear the faint footsteps waiting outside the cabin.
Long enough for Roswaal's visible eye to narrow...
...then widen...
...then settle into something unreadable.
Finally—
"Very weeeell..."
His voice was soft.
Measured.
Almost amused.
"If you can truly accomplish all of that..."
"...without sacrificing one for the other..."
"...then perhaps..."
"...my Gospel..."
"...was mistaken."
For one glorious, impossible second...
...my brain stopped functioning.
Then it restarted at approximately nine hundred percent capacity.
YES.
YES YES YES YES.
HE DIDN'T KILL ANYONE.
PLAN SUCCESSFUL.
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.
I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY NEGOTIATED WITH THE WORLD'S MOST DANGEROUS CLOWN.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—
Externally...
Nothing.
Not even a twitch.
Professionalism.
I was a prophet.
Prophets did not celebrate externally like they had just won the lottery.
I simply smiled.
Just enough.
"Good."
Roswaal watched me.
The smile remained on his face.
But it no longer looked theatrical.
HHEHEHEHEH
It looked...
...thoughtful.
Almost uncertain.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
This means I can win 4D Chess.
Neat.
Therapy remains unavailable.
He quietly reached toward the small silver bell resting beside his bed.
Ring.
The soft chime echoed through the cabin.
A moment later—
The door slid open.
Ram entered first.
Expression perfectly composed.
Behind her came Emilia, Otto, and Garfiel.
Nobody looked particularly suspicious.
Good.
Apparently nobody had spent the last several minutes imagining that a private conversation between a prophet and Roswaal might involve psychological nuclear weapons.
Roswaal smiled exactly as he always did.
Elegant.
Relaxed.
Perfect.
"Now then..."
"...shall we continue?"
...
Outstanding.
Thirty seconds ago he experienced a complete existential collapse.
Now he's back to customer service voice.
This man deserves either an award or immediate psychiatric intervention.
Probably both.
[ ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ]
Roswaal folded his hands together.
"As Emilia-sama has already sensed..."
"...this land is known as the Sanctuary."
Emilia nodded quietly.
"...It doesn't feel peaceful."
"Nooo."
"It is protected by a barrier created by Echidna."
He gestured lazily toward the forest.
"The barrier prevents qualified individuals from leaving."
Otto frowned.
"Qualified?"
Garfiel answered before Roswaal could.
"Half-bloods."
He crossed his arms.
"Half-elves."
"Demi-humans."
"People like me."
He jerked a thumb toward Emilia.
"And her."
Emilia instinctively touched her chest.
"...So..."
"...I can't leave?"
"Not until the barrier falls."
The room grew quiet.
Roswaal continued.
"The people of Irlam Village."
"Ram."
"Myself."
"We are effectively under house arrest."
Otto blinked.
"...Including Lord Roswaal?"
Roswaal gave a light laugh.
"My injuries were earned attempting to force my way through the Trial."
"I failed."
My eyes briefly drifted toward the thick bandages.
Canon confirmed.
Excellent.
One less variable.
Garfiel scratched the back of his head.
"The rules're simple."
"Only someone with mixed blood can challenge the Tomb."
"If the Trial ain't cleared..."
"...the barrier stays."
He shrugged.
"...Nobody leaves."
Silence.
Then—
Every pair of eyes turned toward me.
...
Excuse me?
Why are you looking at me?
I don't have the required racial DLC.
I do have permission from Echidna but like none of your business
I looked directly at Emilia.
Smiled politely.
Then made a small presenting gesture.
"Well."
"That means... Emilia."
"You're up."
The room froze.
Otto blinked twice.
"...You're just handing it to her?"
I shrugged.
"She's the one who can do it"
Emilia stared at me for a second, then looked away, a little flustered.
"...I guess I am."
"Yes."
"That sounds like a lot of responsibility."
"It is."
Garfiel frowned.
"...The hell's he talking about?"
Otto sighed.
"I don't actually know..."
"...but somehow it sounds important."
"I'll explain later."
"I hope not."
Reasonable response.
Emilia covered her mouth.
A tiny laugh escaped.
The tension eased immediately.
"...You're strange."
"I've received similar performance reviews."
Roswaal quietly watched the exchange.
His smile remained.
But I noticed something.
He wasn't manipulating the conversation anymore.
He was...
Watching.
Observing.
Me.
Good.
Keep wondering.
[ ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ]
Later the afternoon after that day—
I watched the Sanctuary's central clearing slowly fill with people.
The villagers of Irlam emerged from the wooden houses.
Tired.
Worried.
Homesick.
Children clung to their parents.
Parents searched every arriving face.
When they finally spotted us—
Relief swept through the crowd.
"Subaru-sama!"
"We're glad you're safe!"
"What about everyone back home?"
"Is the village alright?"
I stepped forward just enough to answer.
"The Witch Cult has been driven back."
"The village remains standing."
"The evacuation group returned safely."
A collective sigh escaped the crowd.
Good.
One problem solved.
I immediately stepped backward again.
Not my meeting.
Not my spotlight.
This one belonged to Emilia.
One elderly villager stepped forward.
"Emilia-sama..."
"The other day..."
"...you bowed to us."
"We rejected your hand."
A painful silence settled over the clearing.
"If you're helping us because you want support in the Royal Selection..."
"...we understand."
"But..."
"...if there's another reason..."
"...please tell us."
"We want to understand you."
I remained completely silent.
No optimization.
No intervention.
No corporate translation.
Some speeches couldn't be improved.
Emilia took a slow breath.
"...I..."
"...don't have an amazing answer."
"I don't know how to give inspiring speeches."
You really don't.
A nervous laugh escaped her.
"But..."
"...I spent time with your families."
"I laughed with them."
"I ate with them."
"I worried with them."
Her hands tightened.
"And it reminded me..."
"...families belong together."
Wow such a genuis revelation
She looked across the gathered villagers.
"I want to return you to them."
"Nobody asked me to."
"I just..."
"...wanted to."
She smiled shyly.
"So..."
"...please..."
"...allow me to help."
Silence.
Then—
The elderly villager bowed.
"The pleasure is ours."
"Please..."
"...take care of us."
One after another—
The villagers bowed as well.
I quietly updated the ledger inside my head.
Public relations objective.
Status: Completed organically.
Client confidence restored.
No intervention required.
Remarkable.
And cringe, kinda.
Sometimes...
Authenticity actually outperformed optimization.
Who would've thought.
[ ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ]
Evening arrived.
The Sanctuary grew quiet.
SHHHHHHH QUIEEEET.
The entrance to the Tomb glowed with a pale blue light.
Cold.
Ancient.
Silent.
Emilia stood before it.
Her fingers rested lightly against her chest.
Around her, several tiny lesser spirits drifted through the evening air.
I stood beside Otto a short distance away.
No spreadsheets.
No contingency plans.
Nothing left to optimize.
This part...
Was entirely hers.
Emilia looked back at me.
"...Subaru."
I looked up.
"...Maybe..."
She smiled nervously.
"...I want one last push."
"...From you."
...
...
Bruh, the fck you mean you want a last push. What the fuck does that even mean? I should push you? ALMIGHTY PUSHHHH!
I scratched the back of my neck.
So, maybe something like cringe. That'd give me second hand embarrassment. Yeah
"...You've already done the difficult part."
Emilia blinked.
"You chose to walk forward."
I regret it already
I smiled.
"So..."
"...keep walking."
AHHHHHHHHH! THIS IS MENTAL TORTURE.
I stepped aside dramatically, extending one arm toward the glowing entrance.
"Clear the runway."
"Our challenger has work to do."
Otto pinched the bridge of his nose.
"...You almost sounded profound."
"I know."
"I accidentally became sincere."
Emilia laughed.
The nervousness faded from her shoulders.
"...Thank you."
You're welcome though I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.
She turned.
Walked toward the ancient doorway.
The blue light embraced her.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Then...
She disappeared into the darkness.
Bye-bye. Sweet Trauma Awaits.