The negotiations with **Priscilla Barielle** ended in failure, and this time all paths were truly closed.

**Crusch** and **Priscilla** had rejected me without a second thought, while **Felt**, who had **Reinhardt** on her side, was nowhere to be found. I couldn’t bring myself to approach **Julius**, whose faction was one that could only be considered enemies, and **Natsuki Subaru**, with his poor reputation among the knight order, had tossed aside any hopes of appealing to the higher-ups.

In other words,

“Does that mean I can’t secure the military force I aimed for…?”

Overwhelmed by feelings of despair and helplessness, Subaru mumbled as he touched his nose.

After being stomped by **Priscilla**, his nose had somehow healed, and the remnants of blood had disappeared, leaving him looking normal again. However, after receiving treatment from **Rem**, who warned him to “please stay still,” he was currently sitting tight.

The location had shifted from the noble district to the commercial area of the lower quarter of the Royal Capital.

There were crowds bustling through the trading street, and amidst the sea of people, Subaru was seated at a snack shop.

Chewing on a meal comprised of some kind of bread stuffed with pork-like meat and lettuce-like vegetables, Subaru silently filled his hunger.

He’d wasted the earlier hours at **Priscilla’s** mansion, and it was now about noon. There were roughly seven or eight hours left until the deadline he’d set for leaving the Royal Capital, meaning he had even less time than before.

Yet, the situation wasn’t just stagnant; it was progressing backward.

Considering that a reasonable solution had been crushed, it could be said that at least it narrowed down his choices.

“Thinking I’m advancing just because I’ve narrowed my options is a delusion. Damn it, that arrogant woman… forgetting the debt she owes me for helping her…”

Recalling how he had saved her from being surrounded by villains during their first meeting, Subaru sneered as he expressed his frustration.

While it was true that her demeanor suggested she felt no gratitude, he hadn’t expected her to respond so dismissively when he sought her help in such a desperate situation.

In the end, she had kicked him, insulted him with some nonsensical theory reminiscent of **Crusch’s**, and thrown him aside without care. And then there was **Al**, who, instead of saying anything about his master’s outrageous actions, remained heartless. What was the purpose of having someone from the same hometown if they proved useless?

“To hell with all of them! Those who know nothing and understand nothing… can’t protect anyone but are always getting in my way…!”

Grinding his teeth, he angrily tore apart the bread and meat.

With his mouth filled with rough-chewed food, the flavors were lost amidst his anger and humiliation.

He needed to think of a second-best plan, yet all Subaru could focus on were the feelings of resentment and accusations towards the people he had encountered before.

In his quest to protect everyone and save them, they were the ones preventing his progress, assisting the vile actions of **Petelgeuse**.

“Honestly, I wish every one of my obstacles would just die—”

“Excuse me for keeping you waiting, **Subaru-kun**.”

Just as Subaru was about to make that sinister remark, he was interrupted by a blue-haired girl in an apron dress—**Rem**.

She sat down in the empty chair across from Subaru and said,

“You have some sauce on your face, **Subaru-kun**.”

Reaching out, she gently wiped the corner of Subaru’s mouth with her cloth.

Submitting to her while remaining silent, Subaru silently sought a report from **Rem**. It was only natural for him to wonder why she had been acting independently.

That was because,

“I reported to the knight’s station that the **Witch Cult** was active. I mentioned **Roswaal**’s name, so they didn’t turn me away immediately, but…”

As her explanation trailed off weakly, Subaru bit his lip.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to visit the knight’s station, but **Rem** had gone in his stead, acting as **Roswaal’s** messenger.

Subaru thought that if she could hint at the existence of the **Witch Cult**, perhaps he could compel the knight’s order into action, but,

“It hasn’t gone well.”

“It seems that several similar reports have surfaced within the knight’s order. Because the background of the **Witch Cult** isn’t clear, if they find something suspicious, all such reports tend to pile up.”

“Ah, I see. It’s like the old days of witch trials. To use their fear as a disguise—that’s worrying.”

The number of people potentially fearful of the **Witch Cult** only bolstered their phantom activities. In this manner, the fear was distilled into the knight’s order, overwhelming the true value of real information until it faded into nothing.

While **Rem** hung her head apologetically, Subaru had no intention of rebuking her.

This was not **Rem**’s fault; it was the negligence of the knight’s order and the wretchedness of the **Witch Cult** that mattered. The knight’s order should verify the accuracy of incoming information, and the **Witch Cult** essentially represented a true evil.

As he gritted his teeth against these inconveniences, Subaru made his decision.

“If gathering military power is impossible… it’s regrettable, but it can’t be helped.”

“What will you do?”

“It’s obvious. I’m going back to the mansion. I’ll return and take **Emilia** and **Ram** out of there. Whether it’s in the Royal Capital or wherever **Roswaal** is going, that place is dangerous.”

The mocking laughter of **Petelgeuse** echoed in Subaru’s mind, and he clenched his fists in frustration.

However, even as much as he wanted to crush that skeletal-faced figure, his reach wasn’t enough. He vaguely knew where they were hiding, but even so, he lacked the forces to launch a surprise attack, and if he confronted them with his current strength, **Rem** would be left standing at the forefront of danger.

That was something he absolutely couldn’t allow to happen.

He could not bear the thought of **Rem** getting hurt or, worse yet, losing her life due to his actions and considerations.

If he couldn’t muster up any fighting strength except for **Rem**, then he shouldn’t consider stirring up trouble with them.

His insides were boiling with murderous intent, and an endless curse of hatred echoed in his head—endlessly ringing. But,

“There’s still a day and a half—if we leave the Royal Capital now, we can reach the mansion by the morning of the third day. That gives us enough time to take **Emilia** and the others away.”

Recalling the timeline from the first world, Subaru had scrutinized the limits of time multiple times.

He had spent three days idly at **Crusch**’s mansion. Then, hearing the troubling signs in **Roswaal**’s territory, he and **Rem** had taken one day and then, along with **Otto**, whom they picked up along the way, another half day. Afterward, they walked towards the location, culminating in a deadly sunrise on the fifth day.

In other words, if he could still arrive by the third day, time was on his side.

“The second time… damn it! How many days was I out of my mind!?”

On the other hand, there was no value in organizing the chronology from the second world.

Having returned, Subaru couldn’t remember anything of the journey back to the mansion while being taken care of by **Rem**. He had no memory of how many days they spent at **Crusch**’s mansion or when **Petelgeuse** had taken him.

In any case,

“I can’t waste time thinking. **Rem**, let’s arrange a flying dragon carriage. We can’t rely on **Crusch** this time… but what should we do in that case?”

“To arrange a flying dragon carriage, we need to use a shop specializing in it. Though, it is currently quite busy, so I’m not sure if we can secure one right away.”

Taking in **Rem**’s uncertain response, Subaru finished the remaining food and stood up, saying, “Anyway, let’s go take a look.”

Ideally, they would rent a fast, long-distance flying dragon carriage. However, he’d still have to consider the possibility of switching mid-journey if need be, just like in the first world.

Implementing these ideas while grabbing his belongings, Subaru strode forth quickly, exhausted by the reality that nothing was going his way.

Behind him, **Rem**, unable to match his pace, struggled to keep up. Unaware of her efforts, Subaru moved on, determined to take even a second more seriously.

—

“Today feels rather tense along the trading street.”

Leaning against a familiar wall, Subaru remarked on the atmosphere amongst the throngs of people.

Although his experience in this area was only a few hours combined over the past few days, it was enough for him to feel the strange intensity in the air.

“That’s because word of the **Royal Selection** is spreading, and people are gathering from all around.”

Responding with a sigh to **Subaru**’s murmurs was **Scarf Face**, the burly fruit shop owner, **Kadmon**.

He glanced at Subaru, who had halted at his shop front, as if it were a daily occurrence.

“Changes in the Royal Capital mean that as the people change, what sells must change as well. With you standing there, my busy season is about to slip away, so you should disappear.”

“Even with the clientele changing in the Royal Capital, your appearance remains unchanged, so the shop’s sales won’t change either. Besides, there are definitely more people now, right?”

Throwing a sharp retort in response to **Kadmon**’s complaint, **Subaru** pressed further. The shop owner frowned deeper but then, recalling his own facial scars, replied, “Yes.”

“There are many merchants who’ve just arrived. You see, the key to business is to catch opportunities as they come. If you join too late, you miss out on the juicy profits. Those who have a nose for these things have already moved in to spread their goods and make their earnings.”

“Knowing how big a chance it is right in front of you, I wonder what goes through the mind of a shop owner with no sales, who continues to display unselling **Ringa** at the entrance. Ah, I just can’t figure it out.”

“Do you have some kind of grudge against my shop? Is it a part of your routine to spout insults when you show up?”

Joking with dull wit, **Subaru** took in the scene again.

Indeed, just as **Kadmon** had said, amid what he saw, there were more vendors—those who were looking to find a place to display their goods than those who rushed around looking to buy.

Their footsteps naturally led them toward the places where stalls would open up, while others drew towards the noble quarter, dragging themselves along with their carts.

“I get that vendors set up stalls, but what’s up with the carts heading toward the upper district?”

“They probably want to supply products directly to the nobility. If they handle it well, they can make more than via the shops, and they’ll get recognized by the big shots. But if they mess up, they might get noticed and could even be kicked out.”

Seemingly unimpressed by others’ business exploits, **Kadmon** spoke in a disinterested tone. As he offered a casual reply to him, **Subaru**’s gaze remained fixated on the passing carts.

If only he could borrow just one of those carts, that would be ideal. Failing to secure a flying dragon carriage would require considering theft as an option.

If he could settle matters with money, then it should be done that way; it wasn’t worth a life. But if the situation escalated beyond that, then committing a petty crime in the name of protecting lives would be justified.

This was different compared to stealing a bike from the parking lot, but **Subaru** resolved to accept that as a possibility. Just then, noticing **Subaru**’s stare at the carts, **Kadmon** seemed to take it as an interest in the cart’s cargo and said,

“With more people drawn by the **Royal Selection**, both supply and demand are surging. However, particularly sought after now are metal goods, weapons, and armors. They’re being bought from both those transporting them in and the shops that were established originally in the Royal Capital.”

“Metal and weapons… that almost sounds familiar.”

He scratched his chin in thought and recalled a conversation from the first world he had with **Otto**.

In a scenario where metal goods could sell high in the Royal Capital, **Otto**, loaded with oil, had faced a dilemma whether to drown himself in liquor or not.

With that in mind, it seemed **Otto**’s predicament had begun well before this moment.

All the same,

“Swords and armors… if they’re gathering metals, does that mean they’re preparing for war or something?”

“Well, fortifying their defenses… although it’s a bit strange. If that’s their intention, typically you’d do that in your own territory. Collecting too much in the makeshift Royal Capital could hinder their mobility.”

“You seem to know the name of the one doing the gathering?”

Casually catching onto **Kadmon**’s dialogue, he asked, and he shrugged, complying with, “Yes.”

“It’s **Crusch Karsten**, the candidate for the **Royal Selection**.”

“**Crusch**…?”

When a name he hadn’t expected to hear came up, Subaru furrowed his brows in confusion. But thinking back, it did align with some observations.

There had been a lot of visitors to **Crusch** lately. Subaru had assumed those were part of her diplomatic efforts to connect with influential figures, yet in reality, there might have been negotiations with merchants bearing such goods.

According to what **Subaru** knew, the last person **Crusch** had met recently was a merchant deeply involved in the economy of the Royal Capital— **Russell**.

Just as he was about to think deeper into the matter, his thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey, isn’t that your friend waving over there?”

Following **Kadmon**’s point across the street, **Rem** was sprinting toward them, waving. She reached right up to **Subaru** and bounced on her toes, displaying a brightness visible only to those familiar with her.

“I found it! We might be able to rent a long-distance flying dragon carriage after all!”

“Really? That’s fantastic news! Considering that shop was bustling a bit ago, I was losing hope…”

It seemed negotiations had been difficult at the rented flying dragon carriage shop, so once **Subaru** realized he couldn’t do much there, he decided to leave it to **Rem** and visit **Kadmon**.

Now, **Rem** was wearing a grin of mild pride for managing to carry the negotiations through.

“Yes. The shopkeeper was rather stubborn, but I managed to come to an agreement by paying a little extra. I’m sorry for dipping into the travel fund without permission.”

“No, that was a smart move. Now’s not the time to hold back on money for our goal.”

Apparently, the shop would deliver the flying dragon carriage right to the entrance of the Royal Capital.

They’d already informed them they’d join shortly, so it was time for them to start moving.

“Okay, that’s how it is. It’s been a short stay, but thanks for everything, old man.”

“You’re leaving the Royal Capital? That’s unfortunate for the girl, at least.”

The gruff but affectionate ribbing from **Kadmon** was genuine since **Rem** had helped out by manning the shop multiple times, resulting in a massive increase in revenue.

Despite his condescending attitude towards **Subaru**, the reason he didn’t chase him off was largely due to his good nature and past achievements. Regardless,

“Thank you for everything, **Kadmon**. I will definitely stop by the next time I’m in the Royal Capital.”

“Grateful words, huh? Although, in reality, that girl must be of a considerably high status, yet she loves talking back.”

“It’s alright. Currently, **Rem** is **Roswaal**’s attendant, but above all, she is **Subaru**’s, so please treat her as you have been.”

“…I’ve started to dislike you even more.”

**Kadmon** grimaced at **Rem**’s response, creasing his scarred face and handing **Rem** a paper bag. Peeking over at the contents, **Subaru** spied a variety of fruits inside.

“That’s a token of gratitude for your contributions and patronage. Be careful on your trip.”

“…Old man, this is why your sales remain low. Your wife and daughter will grow tired of you.”

“I didn’t give you that, I gave it to **Rem-chan!** Now hurry up and go!”

Being hurried away by his rough kindness, **Subaru** and **Rem** hastily left the site.

Until the very end, their parting with **Kadmon** was without any grudge. For that bit, it provided him slight relief—**Subaru** tightened his previously loosening cheeks.

There was no need to laugh, nor any need for tranquility, right now.

Once everything was settled, he could laugh without restraint.

For that to happen, he needed to feel that emotion now.

It wasn’t necessary.

—

The **Earth Dragon** pulling the flying dragon carriage that **Rem** had rented boasted a larger physique than those previously seen, thundering through the grasslands with its powerful hind legs.

The dust it kicked up coated the air, diminishing visibility somewhat, but as the speed increased, **Subaru** squinted against the grainy haze beside **Rem** at the driving seat.

“It’s fast… which is nice, but is there any way to fix this?”

“This dragon is meant for hauling heavy loads. Thus, it’s not built for passenger comfort, nor can it effectively run quietly.”

“Guess I can’t complain since we lucked out by getting a dragon that runs nonstop. But still, this dust is rough. Isn’t there anything we can do?”

Fiddling about and nearly reduced to tears, **Subaru** searched through their luggage, but found no effective tools.

Reluctantly, he took a thin towel and wrapped it around his mouth to create a makeshift dust guard, doing the same for **Rem** who was grasping the reins.

“There, that should help. With this, we shouldn’t get grit in our mouths, so it should be a bit better, right?”

“Yes. As for sight, we’ll have to endure.”

Though they both looked like some kind of gang from a bygone era with their toweling, there was no luxury for light banter at this moment.

As the concerns began to drop away from his thoughts, **Subaru** settled into working through his worries steadily. The green plains unfolded endlessly around them, an unchanging sea of grass, with changes only in the clouds drifting in the sky and the gradually moving sun—signifying the passing of time, it began to weigh on **Subaru’s** mind.

Their time management seemed to be moving favorably.

A day and a half spent in the Royal Capital had been undeniably wasted. However, managing to leave two days in was significantly beneficial.

Even so, starting from the angle of the sun beginning to tilt down, racing half a day down the road should put them at the mansion sometime around tomorrow morning. If that was by the morning of the third day, it meant he would arrive half a day earlier than when he left **Crusch’s** place in the first world.

He should have ample time to get **Emilia** and the others out from the mansion.

If there was a problem—

“There’s the chance we could encounter the **Witch Cult** mid-journey like last time…”

While he couldn’t clearly recall memories from the second world, he remembered awakening in a cave, which had been the enemy base, likely situated amidst the path to the mansion.

During their return journey aboard the flying dragon carriage, they’d been ambushed by the **Witch Cult**, and as a result, **Subaru** got captured while **Rem** came to rescue him only to be killed.

In hindsight, he speculated it had taken roughly a day and a half for him to escape the cave afterward.

“So they’ve been wandering around the mansion for several days now.”

While unable to figure out the precise dates, if the timeline of the second world matched the first,

The massacre around the mansion and the village was on the morning of the fifth day. Calculating **Subaru’s** capture at around a day and a half, this meant the encounter with them occurred between the third and fourth day. In other words,

“If we plan to arrive by tomorrow morning, then the possibility of running into them is not eliminated…!”

Clenching his teeth for the umpteenth time, **Subaru** felt blood oozing from his jaws.

Had their departure been completed yesterday, this concern would’ve been greatly alleviated. But the current travel time dug them into a dangerous zone. Optimism was out of the question.

—

Out of the corner of his eye, **Subaru** cast a glance at **Rem**, who was focused on driving while holding the reins.

If a battle against the **Witch Cult** were to occur, he would once again have to rely on her. Alternatively, he could forewarn her of the potential encounter with the **Witch Cult** to prompt her to stay alert, possibly preventing them from repeating the same mistakes as before.

However, as he opened his mouth to speak, **Subaru** noticed he couldn’t make a sound.

The fear of experiencing that agonizing, suffocating pain felt like a vile mist clutching at his heart—this was terrifying.

What made his heart race was not the pain itself.

Even recalling it brought dread that he could imagine turning his hair white with each awareness of his body being pierced with torment. It wasn’t something one could simply withstand with a sane mind. Even harnessing that pain had led to an overwhelming overflow of emotional explosions. Asking him to do it again? He would shake his head no.

However, what stifled **Subaru** from confiding in **Rem** about the **Witch Cult** wasn’t that pain.

—It was whether or not **Rem** would believe him.

“—!”

Merely imagining that sent chills down his spine, and he pulled his shoulders in as if to ward off the creeping dread.

His heart raced unreasonably, and wave upon wave of nausea surged, squeezing at his insides. In the extreme state of mental stress, coupled with his fatigue from not sleeping, it gnawed at **Subaru’s** spirit and strength.

For **Subaru**, in this world, the one he could trust most was none other than **Rem**.

Having been abandoned by **Emilia** and treated with contempt by **Crusch** and **Priscilla**, **Subaru’s** mind fell into a state of paranoia, making it impossible to trust anything.

It was unimaginable for trust to be restored concerning **Crusch** and **Priscilla**; even with **Emilia**, until she killed **Petelgeuse** and ensured safety, he couldn’t envision laughing and conversing face-to-face.

That’s why—**Rem** was the only one he could rely on.

He could hand over everything to her, sigh in relief, and call her a companion.

But if he confided in her about the **Witch Cult**, just the thought of seeing doubt cloud her face filled **Subaru** with terror.

“I can’t let fear stop me…”

Trying to dispel his cowardice through words, the sound that emerged was closer to a whisper than anything resonant. The quiet tone was swept away by the rumbling of the **Earth Dragon**, making it inaudible even to himself.

Nevertheless, he had to confide it.

Given the possibility of crossing paths with the **Witch Cult**, remaining in the dark would mean repeating previous mistakes. **Subaru** had lost his life only to return to grasp a better fate.

Therefore—

“**Rem**… I need to talk about the—”

“**Subaru-kun**—there are people gathering up ahead.”

However, his resolved declaration was cut short by **Rem**’s sharp voice.

“What?” **Subaru** quizzed as he followed her gaze, spotting multiple shadows standing out ahead along the route the **Earth Dragon** galloped.

—Could it be an ambush by the **Witch Cult**!?

The alarming prospect almost made **Subaru’s** heart leap out of his chest, but as those shadows drew closer, their true forms resolved into something clearer.

It was—

“Hey! Could you stop the earth dragon for a moment? I’d like to exchange information!”

In the middle of the street, waving both hands and calling out loudly for the stop was none other than merchant **Otto**.

—

“Ah, I’m so sorry. Thanks for stopping! Even though a lot of people are heading toward the Royal Capital, not many are coming out from it right now. I’d been wanting to talk to folks like you.”

Welcoming the two who had brought the dragon carriage to a halt, young **Otto** beamed with a smile.

He was neither drowning in drink nor clad in a forlorn expression. Moreover, he appeared uninjured, adequately alive as merchant **Otto**.

Having abruptly left him behind in the first world was a tiny thorn in **Subaru**’s heart. But considering the horrors of the village afterward, that may have been the best decision for him.

Still,

“Is everyone gathered here merchants or something?”

“Exactly that! All these folks are merchants hoping to hit it big in the hot topic that is the Royal Capital,” **Otto** answered, rubbing his hands in excitement.

Peering past him, **Subaru** noted that multiple carts were parked alongside the street, with a group of men, seemingly the owners of those carts, huddled around. There were roughly a dozen of them, ages ranging from **Otto**’s youth to men in their forties. It even included the gaunt man who had introduced him to **Otto** in the first world.

Once **Otto** finished greetings, the others soon surrounded **Subaru** and *Rem*, introducing themselves and diving into conversation.

They discussed the current state of the Royal Capital, the shifts taking place before and after the **Royal Selection**, and changes in currency value—a topic that naturally interested merchants.

To be honest, **Subaru** was unwilling to waste time conversing, but seeing **Otto** put an end to the option of merely walking past.

Fortunately, with confirmation of his safety—which was to be expected on the third trip—**Subaru** intended to depart immediately once the dialogue concluded.

“Are you two getting ready to leave? Night’s falling and it’s dangerous. We’re camping here tonight… if you’d like to join us?”

Just as the conversation, dressed up as an information exchange, came to an abrupt end, **Otto** halted **Subaru** and **Rem**.

Indeed, the sun had sunk low in the sky, the remnants barely visible, while dusk began to cloak the grassfields.

The **Leafaus Highway** would soon be engulfed entirely by night, leaving only the light provided by crystal lanterns as guidance.

The gathered merchants had already begun setting up for camp, and they had even prepared a fire in the center of the area where multiple carts were stationed.

With that many people gathered, it was likely they weren’t worried about wild dogs or bandits that might surface by the road. While he admired their collective wisdom, **Subaru** was still pressed for time and couldn’t afford to spend precious moments on uselessness.

“Just what are you talking about, **Otto**? Are you just hoping to hastily reduce your oil inventory, pretending to be helpful?”

Just as he was about to reject the offer, someone shouted that out. Laughter erupted from behind, making **Otto** purse his lips as he replied with a feigned grievance.

“I’m not trying to do that! I genuinely exhibit goodwill. Well, I wouldn’t mind if you brought along some oil, food, or lanterns… though the desire for that is hardly non-existent.”

“Is there something wrong with the oil?”

As **Otto** sank in defeated pride, **Rem** asked inquisitively. Raising an eyebrow and shrugging exaggeratedly, he explained.

“Turns out I’ve miscalculated for this business opportunity. I’m stuck holding value-less oil as stock. It should have turned into big money up north in **Gusteco**, but now it’s unclear how much of a loss I can recover here in **Lugnica**.”

Based on that worried demeanor, it was likely **Subaru** could infer some sympathy, but it also suggested a hidden intent to garner some minimal high-priced sales.

**Rem** surely saw through that, expressing her sympathies but holding back any deeper feelings, simply saying, “I see. That sounds tough.”

“Even if I reach the Royal Capital, I’m not sure I can sell this stock. If I wind up having to unload it for scraps, I’ll go bankrupt. —Bankrupt!”

He repeated “bankrupt” as if it were an important point, though **Subaru** lacked the generosity to purchase all of it outright.

Even if he had been helped in the first world, their connection was tenuous at best now. Wishing happiness upon him wasn’t a bad gesture, but ensuring their own future took precedence.

Currently, their priority was to speed past the long road and enter **Meisters Territory** as quickly as possible.

The potential to encounter the **Witch Cult** and figuring out how to ensure **Emilia** and the others could escape safely occupied all his thoughts as he prepared to voice his farewell—only to realize suddenly.

If he could use money to move something, perhaps he should take that route.

“**Otto**… I have a proposal—no, a business deal.”

With a suddenly serious expression and a whisper, **Subaru** caught **Otto**’s attention, and upon discerning the earnestness in his tone, **Otto** quickly straightened his posture.

“If you have a business proposal, please tell me, my customer—what do you need?”

“I’ll buy every single drop of oil you have in your carts. In exchange, lend me your legs.”

Indicating **Otto**’s cart—a familiar dragon carriage—**Subaru** spoke clearly, pitching his voice so the merchants around them could hear.

“Anyone here with carts and willing to sell their legs for gold, come to me now!”

“`

 

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