...
{3rd Pov}
It should have been an ordinary day at Karsten Manor, no different from any other.
The only real change, however, was that Crusch Karsten had been quietly and systematically gathering weapons, armor, and every resource she deemed necessary for her long-planned hunt of the White Whale.
She made sure the preparations were discreet, but even then, Anastasia Hoshin had already caught the scent of what was happening.
By taking advantage of Subaru's naivety and his desperation to accomplish something meaningful, she managed to extract enough information to understand that Crusch was preparing for a major military operation.
Once Anastasia confirmed the details, she took the time to think the matter through from every angle.
If Crusch Karsten succeeded in slaying the White Whale—a monster that had terrorized the world for centuries—then the resulting fame and political momentum would be enormous.
Crusch's reputation would soar overnight, and her standing in the Royal Selection would rise in equal measure.
Anastasia knew very well that she was already considered one of the strongest candidates, if not the strongest.
But if Crusch were to gain the legendary achievement of eliminating the White Whale, that accomplishment would become a massive advantage, one powerful enough to potentially propel Crusch straight toward victory in the Royal Selection.
At the same time, Anastasia understood that she could not simply sabotage Crusch's preparations or manipulate events to make her fail.
Such tactics would be reckless and counterproductive.
Trying to obstruct Crusch's acquisition of equipment, supplies, or manpower for the upcoming battle would not only be difficult—it would risk damaging Anastasia's own carefully built reputation.
Any hint that she had interfered with a major subjugation effort would draw criticism from nobles, commoners, and merchants alike, branding her as someone who jeopardized public safety for personal gain.
This was not one of her ordinary business negotiations, where clever wording or subtle manipulation could turn a profit.
This was essentially a war for the throne, a struggle involving national interests, public perception, and the kind of large-scale politics that required far more than her usual merchant tricks.
For Anastasia, this situation demanded a calculated approach—one where she had to consider alliances, timing, and the long-term consequences of every move she made.
So, after weighing all the risks and potential gains, Anastasia decided that the best course of action was to approach the Duchess directly and push her into forming a temporary alliance.
Her goal was simple: if the two of them worked together, they could hunt the White Whale as a united force and then share the benefits that would come from such a monumental achievement.
From Anastasia's perspective, the logic behind this plan was solid.
They were both among the strongest contenders in the Royal Selection, and the White Whale was not an opponent that could be brought down easily.
Crusch possessed the resources, discipline, and military strength to outfit her forces with exceptional weapons and armor, making her army more capable of handling the brutal fight ahead.
In addition to relying on Crusch's preparations, Anastasia could also offer considerable support of her own.
She had access to a reliable elite team, immense financial resources to fund the expedition and buy all the necessary tools and weapons, a group of well-trained mercenaries, and of course, Julius—the finest knight under her banner.
Combining Crusch's disciplined troops with her own high-quality forces would give them the safest and most balanced lineup possible for confronting the White Whale.
Considering the creature's reputation for slaughtering the previous Sword Saint and wiping out an entire army, they would need every advantage available if they hoped to survive, let alone win.
Initially, Anastasia had considered staying out of the Duchess's campaign entirely, leaving Crusch to carry out her own plan without interference.
She would have observed from a distance and decided later how to react to whatever outcome the operation produced.
But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that letting Crusch accomplish the feat alone would be risky for her own ambitions.
The amount of fame and political leverage Crusch would obtain from slaying the White Whale by herself was simply too great to ignore.
In the end, Anastasia Hoshin concluded that remaining uninvolved would put her at a disadvantage, and therefore, she ultimately chose to step in and involve herself directly.
And so, the two of them now sat face to face at a small table, silently evaluating each other.
Crusch wore a stern and composed expression, her posture reflecting the seriousness she treated all matters with.
Anastasia, on the other hand, had a sly glint in her eyes, and a confident smile tugging at her lips.
She had already finished explaining her intentions clearly, laying out the benefits of the alliance and her reasons for approaching Crusch in the first place.
"Now then, Duchess," Anastasia said with a gentle, well-rehearsed smile, lightly tapping her closed fan against her chin in a calm, confident rhythm.
"If we were to join hands, the subjugation of the White Whale would be all but guaranteed, and we could achieve it while keeping losses on both sides to an absolute minimum. And once that's settled…" Her eyes narrowed slightly, the soft smile twisting into something sharper and more foxlike.
"We'd leave the other three royal candidates far, far behind. Don't you think that's a rather appealing proposal?"
Crusch listened carefully, weighing the pros and cons without rushing to answer.
Internally, she was cursing whichever careless individual had leaked information about her preparations, but frustration wouldn't change the situation.
What had already been exposed couldn't be hidden again, and she understood that she needed to adjust to the circumstances rather than pointlessly dwelling on what had gone wrong.
To be fair, Crusch Karsten wasn't inherently against the idea of forming an alliance.
She believed firmly that she and her army possessed the strength, discipline, and resolve necessary to bring down the White Whale even on their own.
However, she also recognized that the support Anastasia Hoshin could bring—additional forces, supplies, elite combatants, and logistical aid—would increase their chances even further while drastically reducing the number of potential casualties.
The benefit was practical and obvious.
Although the alliance wouldn't immediately grant her a guaranteed path to the throne, it would still narrow the list of true competitors down considerably.
With such an achievement under their names, only Anastasia would remain as a serious rival.
The other three royal candidates would effectively lose any realistic chance of winning once Crusch and Anastasia claimed the accomplishment of slaying one of the Three Great Mabeasts.
No amount of political maneuvering or speeches could compare to a feat of that scale.
But above all political gain, the most important factor in Crusch's mind was the lives of her soldiers.
A stronger combined army would mean fewer lives lost, reduced risk, and a faster and more efficient subjugation operation.
Crusch Karsten valued her men deeply—every knight, every soldier, every support worker.
Their safety mattered to her far more than any title or political advantage.
That, more than anything else, was the reason she found herself genuinely willing to consider Anastasia's proposal for an alliance.
"Very well… I am willing to form a temporary alliance with you. However, before anything is finalized, we must carefully discuss the specific roles that both of us will take in this operation," Crusch Karsten said firmly.
She already had several conditions in mind—most notably her desire to lead the army herself—and she intended to place these demands clearly on the table before agreeing to anything further.
Anastasia's lips curved into a thoroughly satisfied smile, clearly pleased by Crusch's acceptance.
"Well then," she replied, snapping her fan shut with an elegant flick, "why don't we move right on to the details, hmm? Let's talk about the roles we'll each be playin' in this little alliance of ours."
She leaned forward slightly, ready to negotiate with her usual composed confidence.
However, just as the discussion was about to continue, the door to the room burst open with a loud thud, startling both women and interrupting the atmosphere.
The abrupt noise immediately drew their attention.
"What is the meaning of this rude behavio—" Crusch began sharply, but her words froze halfway when she saw who had entered.
Felix, a soldier under her command, and Wilhelm van Astrea—the Sword Demon himself—stood there, all three wearing unusually serious expressions.
The tension on their faces made it clear that this was not some trivial interruption.
"Lady Crusch…" Wilhelm spoke first, his voice low and strained.
His eyes narrowed slightly, and even with his usual discipline, it was obvious his emotions were in complete disarray. "We have received some rather shocking news."
The soldier who had come with him stepped forward and added with a firm nod, "The corpse of the White Whale has been found lying on the plains near the Flugel's Tree!"
The moment the words left his mouth, both royal candidates jolted to their feet in perfect sync, their chairs scraping loudly against the floor.
The shock was so overwhelming that they shouted in unison, "WHAT?!"
…
Upon receiving the report, both royal candidates immediately prepared to depart and verify the situation for themselves.
Even while making their arrangements, they argued back and forth about the possibility that the news might be false or even part of an enemy's trap.
After all, the information about Crusch Karsten's preparations for hunting the White Whale had already leaked once, and it was entirely possible that it had leaked again.
If a third party had learned of their plans, they might have staged this situation to deceive or ambush them.
However, in the end, the sheer absurdity and urgency of the claim—the White Whale allegedly being dead without warning—overwhelmed their doubts.
The possibility that this enormous event had truly occurred pushed them to investigate at once.
With Anastasia's elite mercenary group, Wilhelm, Julius, Felix, and a small contingent of reliable soldiers accompanying them, both candidates departed from the Capital in a coordinated but hurried manner.
They remained confident that even if it turned out to be some kind of elaborate trap, their small but powerful force would be more than capable of handling whatever threat awaited.
Each member of the group was highly skilled, and even the weakest among them, Felix, was not only a capable knight but also the kingdom's most gifted healer.
With such a lineup, they had little reason to fear an ambush or hostile force.
After traveling for some time, they reached the outskirts of the area described in the report.
Even from a considerable distance, they could make out the unmistakable silhouette of a massive body lying on the ground.
The shape was enormous, unmistakably inhuman, and instantly recognizable.
It took only one glance for all of them to understand what they were looking at.
The White Whale's enormous corpse was sprawled across the plains, shocking them to their core.
Wilhelm, who was riding his ground dragon at the front of the formation, reacted faster than anyone.
His eyes widened, and without hesitation he whipped the reins, urging the ground dragon to sprint at full speed toward the fallen creature.
He was the first to reach the site, and he dismounted almost immediately, nearly leaping off the saddle.
Standing before the corpse, Wilhelm stared at it in stunned silence.
Up close, he could examine the fallen mabeast in far greater detail.
The White Whale's gigantic body had been severed into two massive sections—the main body and the head—clearly separated by an enormous, devastating force.
Dry, darkened blood had soaked into the grass surrounding the creature, indicating that it had been dead for quite some time.
A long, deep trail in the dirt stretched behind the corpse, suggesting that it had crashed violently from the sky before finally stopping at this spot.
Wilhelm stood still, his expression unreadable, as he silently observed the lifeless remains of the White Whale.
The same monster that had taken his wife's life… the very creature that had torn apart the peaceful, happy world he once cherished… now lay dead right before his eyes.
Its enormous, lifeless form rested on the ground as if mocking him, and its dead eyes were bulging outward unnaturally, swollen to the point where they looked like they might burst at any moment.
Wilhelm stared at it again, forcing himself to accept what he was seeing.
There was no mistake.
The White Whale was dead—completely, unquestionably dead.
But the reality that followed hit him even harder.
It had not died by his hands. It had not fallen to his blade, nor to the vengeance he had spent decades building up.
The hatred, the resolve, and the years of obsession he had carried meant nothing now, because someone else had delivered the killing blow.
A wave of violent frustration surged through him.
"Ughhh!" Wilhelm roared, his voice cracking with fury as he lunged forward and drove his fist directly into one of the Whale's bulging eyes.
The dead organ burst under the blow, splattering dark fluid across his glove and the surrounding flesh.
His teeth clenched so tightly they could have shattered as he continued striking the corpse without restraint.
He hammered his fists into its massive body again and again, each impact fueled by emotions he had kept buried for so long.
"You were supposed to die at my hands!" he shouted, his voice trembling with rage and grief.
"You were supposed to feel my wrath! Mine alone!"
Overcome, Wilhelm drew his sword in a single, furious motion.
Without hesitation or pause, he began slicing into the Whale's corpse, hacking at the already lifeless flesh as if trying to reclaim the vengeance that had been stolen from him.
He slashed again and again, refusing to stop, refusing to calm down, fully consumed by the reality that his long-awaited revenge had been taken before he could fulfill it himself.
Crusch Karsten and the others soon arrived on their ground dragons, slowing to a stop as their eyes fell upon the massive corpse of the White Whale.
The sight was overwhelming, and their attention was immediately drawn to Wilhelm, who was still hacking at the creature's body in a near-mad frenzy.
His blade rose and fell repeatedly, each movement filled with rage and anguish.
Crusch bit her lip hard, struggling to process the situation.
Her target—the White Whale, one of the Three Great Mabeasts that had terrorized the world for over four hundred years—was undeniably dead.
Its enormous body lay motionless, its massive frame split apart, proof that the deed had already been done long before she arrived.
But it had not been accomplished under her leadership.
Not by her command, not by her army's hands, and not through the operation she had spent so much time preparing.
Logically, it should have been a moment of celebration.
The monster that had brought fear and tragedy to countless people for centuries was finally gone. Its death should have been heralded across the nation, a victory for all of Lugnica.
Yet Crusch couldn't stop the frustration rising in her chest.
All her extensive preparations—the gathering of supplies, the mobilization of her troops, the cooperation of her allies, and the careful strategies she had created for the subjugation—were now meaningless.
Everything she had planned for gaining momentum in the Royal Selection had crumbled in an instant.
Someone else had slain the White Whale before she even set foot on the battlefield. Whoever they were, they had stolen the achievement she had aimed for.
Meanwhile, Wilhelm's state only worsened.
He slashed at the White Whale with even more intensity, screaming as he tore into the flesh. His swings were wild, powerful, and filled with raw emotion.
"How dare you die?! How dare you die like this after killing my wife! How dare you?!" Wilhelm roared, ripping huge chunks of flesh from the already ruined corpse.
Each slice was sharper and more forceful than the last, as if he was trying to punish something that could no longer feel pain.
"Wilhelm! That's enough!" Crusch finally shouted.
Despite her own unwillingness to accept the situation, she was still the commander here, and she had a responsibility to bring order back to their group.
She forced her tone to remain firm as she gave the command, even though she could feel her own disappointment weighing heavily on her.
She remembered clearly the promise she had made to Wilhelm.
She had sworn to support him in his quest to avenge his wife, to give him the chance to finally face the monster that had destroyed his life.
That promise had been one of the main reasons the Sword Demon had joined her camp in the first place. It was a bond of trust and purpose that she had taken seriously.
And now, standing before the corpse of the White Whale, Crusch was forced to acknowledge a painful truth—she had failed to fulfill that promise.
"What a mess, Duchess," Anastasia muttered, her usual confidence slipping as she stared at the scene with a sour expression.
Even she couldn't hide how irritated she felt. Her perfect opportunity to skyrocket her reputation, secure overwhelming influence in the Royal Selection, and showcase her capabilities to the entire kingdom had been completely shattered.
Everything she had planned, everything she hoped to gain from this alliance, had been ruined before it even began.
And the worst part was the uncertainty.
The more she thought about it, the more she worried that another camp might be behind this.
The idea that another royal candidate could have killed the White Whale and taken all the credit made her stomach tighten with anxiety and annoyance.
Meanwhile, Wilhelm had not stopped.
He continued wildly hacking away at the White Whale's corpse, his blade swinging again and again in a vicious rhythm.
His entire body was drenched in shredded flesh, cold blood, and torn tissue.
The sight was disturbing, but no one could bring themselves to interrupt him—except one person.
Julius quickly moved beside Wilhelm, grabbing him firmly by the arm to halt the next strike.
"Get away from me!" Wilhelm snapped, glaring with pure fury at Julius. His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice shook under the weight of his emotions.
"Sir Wilhelm," Julius said steadily, refusing to back away.
"This kind of behavior does not suit a knight of your caliber. I understand the pain you're feeling. I truly do. But taking your anger out like this… at this stage, it serves no purpose. It will not give back what you've lost."
"You speak as if you understand me? My feelings?!" Wilhelm roared, his voice cracking as he jerked his arm, though Julius held firm.
"Do you even understand how I've lived the past fifteen years?! Every single day, I've burned with hatred. Every day, I've mourned the death of my wife. Every day, I've carried grief so heavy that it felt like it was crushing my soul!"
His breaths grew shaky, and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"The only thing that kept me moving forward was the vow that I would not die until I avenged her. That I would hunt down this beast and erase this scourge from the face of Od Laguna!"
Tears began to gather at the corners of his eyes, spilling down his cheeks despite his attempts to remain composed.
"But now…" He choked on the words, his voice breaking as all the years of restraint finally snapped.
"When I finally stand ready, when I have devoted my entire life to this moment… I find the monster I sought to kill—the one that stole my dear wife from me—is already dead. It died… to someone else's hand."
Wilhelm's blade slipped from his grip and fell to the bloody ground with a dull thud.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees, staring blankly at the corpse before him.
"My only chance to avenge my wife is gone," he whispered, his voice trembling with despair.
"What is even left for me now?"
Watching Wilhelm—a man known for his unshakable strength and fearsome skill—break down in tears shook everyone present.
Even those who had never met his wife could not help but feel the weight of his grief, and a deep, painful sympathy spread through the group as they witnessed the collapse of a man who had lived for revenge and now had nothing left to hold on to.
No one dared to make a single comment, and Crusch Karsten finally exhaled a long, tense sigh.
"Felix, go and inspect the corpse closely… We need to determine how many hours have passed since it died. Any detail might help us understand the situation."
The femboy demi-human healer nodded with a serious expression and immediately got to work.
He crouched near the massive corpse, examining the patches of dried blood splattered across the flattened grass and comparing them to the still–slowly leaking cold blood seeping from the Whale's enormous wounds.
He circled around the gigantic body, checking its underside and searching for anything unusual that could give them even the slightest clue.
After a few seconds, he suddenly froze, his ears twitching.
Then—
"Crusch-sama! Meowyh found something!" Felix shouted, his voice filled with obvious shock that echoed across the quiet battlefield.
Everyone's attention instantly snapped toward him.
Even Wilhelm, who had been lost in grief and despair only moments earlier, momentarily stopped everything and looked over with trembling eyes, as though hoping the discovery might explain something—anything—about this situation.
"What's the matter, Felix?" Crusch asked as she dismounted her ground dragon, followed by the rest of her camp.
They hurried toward Felix's position, their boots squishing into the damp, blood-stained earth. When she finally reached him, she stood at his side and looked down at what he was indicating.
"~Nya! Everyone, please look at this! There's a name carved on the Whale's head!" Felix said. Even with his usual tone, there was no mistaking the disbelief leaking through his voice.
The entire group, including the devastated Wilhelm, moved around the massive corpse and followed the direction of Felix's pointed finger.
The moment their eyes focused on the carved letters etched into the White Whale's flesh, they all stiffened in shock.
Their expressions shifted instantly—from confusion, to disbelief, and finally to something close to outright bewilderment.
"You gotta be kiddin' me," Anastasia muttered, unable to stop herself.
Her disbelief was understandable, because the name carved into the corpse of one of the world's most dangerous and legendary mabeasts did not belong to any renowned knight, elite mage, royal candidate, or war hero.
Instead, the name brutally scratched into the flesh of the world-terrorizing White Whale was—
Natsuki Subaru.
The name of someone who, by all known standards, was painfully weak.
To be continued...
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