...
{3rd Pov}
Roswaal sat motionless in his large chair, the dim light of the study casting sharp shadows across his face.
He silently listened to Ram's report about everything that had transpired during his absence.
Her words were sharp and unfiltered, dripping with the same venom she often directed toward Subaru.
With every detail she delivered—especially the ones about what Natsuki Subaru had said to Emilia and how he left immediately afterward—Roswaal's expression steadily darkened.
Anger simmered beneath his usual composed demeanor, his patience thinning with each passing second.
Meanwhile, outside the room, Rem approached with Emilia beside her.
She gently knocked on the door, her knuckles barely making a sound, yet Roswaal immediately responded in a calm but commanding tone, "Come iiiiin."
Rem led Emilia inside.
The moment she entered, Rem bowed respectfully before stepping aside and standing silently like a loyal attendant.
"Lord Roswaal, I have brought Lady Emilia as you instructed," she said with her usual politeness, though there was a faint worry lingering in her eyes.
Emilia clutched her hands together nervously as she looked at Roswaal, already suspecting the reason she had been summoned.
She took a small breath before speaking, her voice weak and tired, "This is… about Subaru, isn't it?"
She didn't realize just how much pain slipped into her tone as she said his name.
Roswaal's mismatched eyes focused entirely on her.
His bright smile was nowhere to be seen—instead, his face was serious, almost disturbingly cold.
"It's good that youuuuu already understand the reason why you were called here," he replied, his voice stretched in that peculiar manner of his, but the amusement normally present was completely absent.
"Subaru said… really, really awful things to both me and Puck," Emilia admitted, her voice quiet but steady.
She looked down at her hands as she continued, "But I also know that what he told us about the Witch Cult was true. The Witch Cultists really did attack, and he was the one who confronted them and dealt with that danger."
Roswaal let out a long, tired sigh as he leaned back in his chair, his brightly colored gaze focusing sharply on her.
His hand came up to rest against his forehead with exaggerated slowness.
"You managed to understand at least that much… I must say, I am genuinely impressed, Emilia-sama," he remarked, his tone initially praising yet laced with sarcasm.
However, in the very next moment, his demeanor shifted noticeably.
The amusement vanished, and his eyes grew colder and more severe as they locked fully onto Emilia.
The temperature in the room felt as if it dropped.
"Then why," Roswaal asked, his voice now dangerously quiet, "did you not stop him from leaving?" His question pushed a wave of confusion onto Emilia's face, her silver lashes fluttering in surprise as she tried to process what he was implying.
Before Emilia could even form a response, Ram stepped forward with a sharp motion, her expression full of disdain.
"Lord Roswaal, I truly fail to see why we must concern ourselves with someone as utterly pathetic as Barusu," she declared, spitting Subaru's name with venom.
"He humiliated both you and Lady Emilia in the capital. Someone like him—someone so lacking in worth and dignity—should not be allowed to stay by Lady Emilia's side or burden us any longer—"
"Raaaaaaam."
Roswaal's elongated utterance slashed through her words.
He didn't raise his voice, yet the authority and warning in it were unmistakable.
"I do not recall giving you permission to speak in this matter."
Ram froze immediately, her body stiffening as though she had been struck.
Her crimson eyes widened slightly before lowering, her mouth clamping shut despite clearly wanting to continue insulting Subaru.
Roswaal's gaze, filled with suppressed fury and barely restrained rage, returned to Emilia.
His intent was unmistakable—he wanted an answer, and he wanted it now.
Emilia could feel the weight of the question pressing down on her, and the room's tension grew suffocating as his eyes demanded an explanation she wasn't sure she could give.
"I… I just don't understand," Emilia said quietly, shaking her head in uncertainty.
"Subaru said such hurtful things to us, terrible things that I still don't know how to handle… He disobeyed direct orders, caused so much trouble for me in the capital, and made everyone misunderstand our position. So… I thought it would be better for him—better for all of us—if he left."
She tried to justify herself, though even she sounded unsure of her own reasoning.
Roswaal inhaled sharply and gasped in pure exasperation, staring at her as if she had spoken absolute nonsense.
"Tell me this, Emilia-sama… You do recognize that he killed Witch Cultists with his own hands, do you not?" he asked, his voice rising with each word.
Emilia slowly nodded, confusion written all over her face.
"Yes, I know that. But Subaru already received praise and a reward for that in form of the Royal Gold Coins, didn't he?" she answered, still not seeing what Roswaal was getting so furious about.
Roswaal's patience snapped completely.
He slammed his palm on the table, standing with such force that his chair scraped loudly against the floor.
His eyes burned with rage.
"Are you—" he paused, breath trembling as if restraining himself, "—are you fucking stupid, Emilia-sama?"
A stunned silence consumed the entire room.
Even Ram's eyes widened slightly, and Rem covered her mouth in shock.
Emilia instinctively recoiled, her hands tightening against her chest in fear as his words pierced her.
"What…? What do you mean?" Emilia managed to speak, her voice shaking.
"Did I do something wrong? Did I… make a mistake somewhere…?" She frantically searched her memories, feeling panic rise the more she failed to understand.
Roswaal suddenly let out a chilling laugh, not out of humor but disbelief—like someone reacting to a hopelessly ridiculous situation.
Then the laughter ended, and he took a slow but intimidating step toward her, his long coat rustling behind him.
"You clueless, idiotic half-elf!" Roswaal roared, his voice filled with fury and frustration.
"You just destroyed the only advantage you had, the one chance you possessed to win the Royal Selection! And now you stand there, looking confused, and have the audacity to ask me what you did wrong?!"
His words hit Emilia like a physical blow, and she flinched violently, trembling as her violet eyes widened in growing dread.
"I-I…" Emilia stuttered helplessly, desperately trying to piece together what she could possibly have done wrong.
Her voice wavered as panic spread across her face.
"I just… I don't understand…"
Roswaal's glare sharpened, becoming even more vicious and judgmental. His breath came heavier, chest rising and falling as if he was restraining himself from exploding even further.
"That boy—Natsuki Subaru," Roswaal began, jabbing a trembling finger toward her, "killed an entire group of Witch Cultists! Not just lowly cult members—he defeated a Sin Archbishop!"
His voice thundered through the room with raw emotion.
"And if that wasn't already more than enough to skyrocket your reputation, he even successfully slew the White Whale! A legendary calamity that has plagued this kingdom for centuries! He accomplished what no other knight or hero in this nation has ever been able to do!"
He leaned forward, voice dropping into a harsh growl filled with fury and disbelief.
"Do you even comprehend what it means to have someone like him willingly standing behind your banner? Do you have the slightest idea how far our influence and standing would have risen if he had remained in our camp?! He was the greatest advantage we had—and you let that slip away!"
His words crashed like thunder, leaving the room suffocating under their weight.
Ram and Emilia both stood frozen, stunned and overwhelmed by the revelations.
Until this moment, neither of them had been aware that Subaru's achievements reached such an unprecedented scale.
They already knew he somehow eliminated the Witch Cultists near Arlam Village, and even that had seemed extraordinary… but defeating a Sin Archbishop?
And the White Whale?
That was beyond anything they had imagined Subaru capable of.
Their minds struggled to accept that Barusu—the incompetent, troublemaking boy—could have accomplished such miracles.
Meanwhile Rem's shock stemmed from a different fear entirely.
Her eyes widened slightly, panic rising behind her calm façade.
'But I never told anyone about the White Whale… Sir Otto and I agreed to keep his involvement quiet until Subaru returned,' she thought, a cold sweat forming on her neck.
'How did Lord Roswaal find out something only a few of us should know? Did he… meet Sir Otto along the way? Or… is there something else at work here?'
Her heart raced as she realized that Roswaal clearly knew far more about Subaru's actions than anyone had expected.
"Do you honestly believe that with your current list of insignificant achievements, you have even the slightest chance of winning the Royal Selection?!" Roswaal roared, his voice echoing against the walls like the crack of a whip.
He stepped closer, each accusation delivered with venom.
"What is your brilliant strategy? Smile politely? Speak kindly? And then everyone will just hand over their votes to you out of pity? Is that what you think?!"
Each harsh word struck Emilia deeper, exposing every insecurity she tried desperately to hide.
She had always known how the public viewed her — a silver-haired half-elf who resembled the Witch of Envy far too closely.
People recoiled from her mere presence.
They judged her not for her actions, but simply for existing.
Even so… she believed if she worked harder than anyone else, if she studied endlessly, if she kept a perfect composure and never caused trouble… she could slowly earn their acknowledgment.
She believed that one day they would accept her.
But hearing Roswaal say this — say it with such certainty — shattered that fragile hope.
Every doubt that she tried to suppress resurfaced with crushing force.
Roswaal slammed his palm on the desk and leaned forward, his eyes narrowed with contempt and disappointment.
"I already knew very well who the fifth royal candidate was," he spat.
"And rather than using that knowledge to back someone with a more realistic chance of winning — even if she were nothing more than a pickpocketing gutter rat crawling through the filth — that person still possessed better odds than a silver-haired half-elf despised by the entire kingdom!"
His voice shook with anger as he pointed directly at Emilia.
"And yet, despite knowing this, I chose you! Do you have the slightest clue why?!"
Emilia's breath hitched.
Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
For a long time, she believed that Roswaal was different from the rest of the world.
She trusted him.
Even if he was eccentric and difficult to understand, he never showed prejudice toward her appearance or heritage — or so she thought.
She believed his support came from a genuine belief in her potential.
To Emilia, Roswaal was someone she looked up to.
A guide who shaped her path.
After Puck, he was the person whose reassurance she clung onto the most.
Whenever she doubted her decisions, Roswaal was the one who would reassure her she hadn't made a mistake… and she believed him.
She forced herself to believe him.
Roswaal wasn't just a sponsor.
He wasn't just her employer.
He was like a teacher — someone she thought saw value in her when no one else did.
Now, the foundation of that trust was being ripped apart right in front of her.
"Are you going to cry now?" Roswaal barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through Emilia's composure like a blade.
He stepped forward, eyes blazing.
"Do you seriously think a few tears are enough to fix the colossal disaster you've created?! Crying won't rewind time, crying won't undo your mistakes, and it certainly won't bring back what we just lost!"
Emilia flinched, her shoulders trembling. Roswaal pointed directly at her, his face twisting in fury.
"Listen very, very carefully, you foolish half-elf," he continued, every word coated with a venomous scorn that made even Ram's breath hitch.
"I never believed you could win the Royal Selection through your own abilities. Not for one second!"
Emilia's tear-stricken voice cracked as she stammered, "T-Then why? Why would you support me at all? Why choose me if you believed I had no chance…?"
Roswaal's expression warped into a mocking smile, one that showed nothing but contempt.
"Why?" he echoed, spreading his arms dramatically.
"Because of that boy, Emilia-sama! Because Natsuki Subaru was hopelessly, pathetically infatuated with you — willing to throw away his life again and again just to be helpful. That blind devotion of his was the weapon that would have guaranteed our victory!"
His voice rose to a mad scream, echoing across the room like a violent storm.
"And now, thanks to your astounding inability to understand what you had — he's gone! Gone because you pushed him away! Gone because you treated him like a burden! Gone because you failed to recognize the worth of the one person who could have turned the entire Royal Selection in our favor!"
Roswaal slammed his fist onto the table, his breath ragged, barely containing his rage.
"That boy killed Witch Cultists. He defeated a Sin Archbishop of Sloth. He was even responsible for slaying the White Whale — an achievement legendary enough to reshape the kingdom's entire power structure!" Roswaal jabbed a trembling finger toward her face, his voice cracking with desperation and rage.
"And you let the one man capable of doing the impossible walk out of here without a single thought about what that meant for your future!"
His glare sharpened, cold and merciless.
"I don't care what excuse you have. I don't care what it takes. You will bring Natsuki Subaru back into this camp even if you have to suck his cock," Roswaal hissed, his tone dropping into something dark and commanding.
"Do you understand? Your role… your usefulness… your entire worth to me depends on him being by your side!"
He leaned in, eyes wide with frenzy.
"I. Want. Natsuki. Subaru. Back."
Each word hammered into her like a physical blow — filled not only with urgency, but with a hatred that made it brutally clear:
To Roswaal, Emilia's value existed only as long as Subaru loved her.
Puck materialized in a burst of icy mana, his small form hovering protectively in front of Emilia.
His usually soft and playful eyes were now hardened into a chilling glare, meeting Roswaal's hatred without a hint of fear.
"You painted clown…" Puck hissed, his voice laced with a deep, murderous rage rarely seen from him.
"How dare you speak to my Lia like that and make her cry?" The temperature in the room plummeted instantly as countless ice spears formed behind him, each one aimed directly at Roswaal's heart.
"Apologize to her this instant," Puck demanded.
"Grovel, beg for mercy — or I'll erase you where you stand. Threaten her again, and I won't hesitate to kill you."
His voice was steady and absolute, making Ram and Rem instinctively tense, their bodies rigid and ready to act despite knowing they stood no chance if Puck attacked.
Yet the man being targeted by Puck's killing intent didn't even flinch.
Roswaal's expression remained locked in disdain, a sneer pulling on his painted lips.
"Oh? You want me to apologize?" Roswaal replied mockingly.
"Do you have the faintest idea what you're saying, beast spirit? If I withdraw my sponsorship, your precious Emilia-sama will be crushed in an instant. Without my backing, how exactly do you expect her to continue participating in the Royal Selection? If you kill me here, she'll lose her only supporter and be expelled from the candidacy for the throne before she can even blink!"
"I don't care about your threats," Puck snarled.
"I only care that you made Emilia cry — and for that alone, you die."
The spears of ice sharpened further, crackling with lethal magical energy.
But at that moment, Emilia went completely stiff.
The words Roswaal threw out — as cruel as they were — hit her like a hammer.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Her hands trembled at her sides.
She never cared for crowns or riches.
Emilia would have been content spending the rest of her life in that quiet cabin in the Elior Forest, living peacefully alongside Puck and the villagers, even those said villagers hated her.
But she couldn't afford to choose peace — because her people needed help.
The frozen elves — trapped in that icy prison— were waiting for her to save them.
The only way to cure them was through the dragon's blood.
Nearly all dragons were extinct, and the one that remained — Volcanica — was the guardian of the kingdom.
Whether she could win or not against such an entity was an different matter.
Hunting him was unthinkable and would make her no different from the monster the world accused her of being.
If she wanted to save the elves without bloodshed, without repeating the sins history had tied to her image… she needed authority.
She needed the throne.
She needed legitimacy.
She needed power that was recognized by the entire kingdom.
The Royal Selection was her only path.
And Roswaal… was the only noble who dared sponsor a silver-haired half-elf.
If he withdrew his support, there was no one else who would step forward.
Without him, she wouldn't simply struggle — she would be rejected immediately.
Expelled.
Laughed at.
And every dream she carried for her kind would crumble into dust.
Emilia gripped her trembling hands together, her eyes wide with dread.
She could not allow Puck to kill Roswaal.
She could not let her single chance vanish.
She must save her people — no matter what the world thought of her.
Emilia's eyes widened in alarm as she saw the tension building between her beloved spirit and the eccentric lord of the mansion.
She couldn't let this spiral out of control—not when so much was at stake.
With a firm voice that carried the weight of her determination, she stepped forward and raised her hand, her silver hair swaying slightly with the motion.
"Puck, stop! Do not attack Roswaal!", she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument..
Puck, the small cat-like spirit floating in the air with his paws extended and a faint glow of magical energy surrounding him, froze mid-motion.
His large, expressive eyes turned toward Emilia, filled with a mix of surprise and bewilderment.
He tilted his head slightly, his fluffy ears twitching as he processed her words.
"Lia, what are you saying? He insulted you! That clown of a noble just mocked you right to your face. He must be punished for such insolence!", Puck replied, his voice a blend of childish indignation and fierce protectiveness, the kind that always surfaced whenever anyone dared to slight his cherished contractor.
He hovered closer to her, as if seeking reassurance that she was truly okay with letting this slide.
Emilia shook her head resolutely, her amethyst eyes locking onto Puck's with unwavering resolve.
She placed a hand on her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart as she explained her reasoning.
"If Roswaal ends his sponsorship of me because of this, how will I ever have the resources to save the elves? You know how important this alliance is, Puck. We can't afford to lose it over a momentary argument."
Her words were straightforward, born from her innate sense of responsibility and her deep-seated desire to prove herself worthy in a world that often viewed her with suspicion due to her half-elf heritage.
She glanced briefly at Roswaal, hoping her plea would diffuse the situation without further damage.
Puck's glow dimmed slightly as he absorbed her logic, his small form lowering a bit in the air.
He let out a soft, reluctant sigh, his tail flicking back and forth in mild frustration.
The spirit knew better than to defy Emilia's wishes when she spoke with such clarity, especially when it concerned their greater goals.
Without another word of protest, he retracted his magical aura and floated silently beside her, though his eyes still shot daggers at the nobleman.
Roswaal, standing tall with his multicolored robes draped elegantly over his frame, observed the exchange with a sly, knowing smile creeping across his painted face.
His mismatched eyes—one blue, one yellow—gleamed with amusement and satisfaction.
He adjusted his stance slightly, clasping his hands behind his back in a pose of feigned nonchalance.
"Maaaybe you do understand your position after all, Lady Emilia," he drawled in his characteristic sing-song manner, drawing out the vowels for dramatic effect.
Internally, he was pleased; this was exactly the kind of leverage he enjoyed wielding, reminding her of the delicate balance of power in their arrangement.
Emilia took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and regret as she turned her gaze inward for a moment.
She fiddled with the hem of her white dress, her fingers twisting the fabric nervously.
"I-I think I am indeed in the wrong here," she admitted softly, her voice carrying the sincere humility that made her so endearing to those who knew her well.
"Subaru was only trying to help me out of kindness. He didn't mean any harm. I need to make things right with him... I will get him back, no matter what it takes."
Roswaal's grin widened even further, stretching into something almost predatory, though he masked it with his usual theatrical flair.
He nodded slowly, as if bestowing some grand approval.
"Yeees, that's the spirit~ How delightful to see you taking responsibility like a true candidate for the throne," he replied, his tone dripping with that exaggerated politeness returning, though everyone has seen his true face earlier.
He was content for now, watching as Emilia grappled with her emotions, knowing it served his own convoluted plans.
But then Emilia hesitated, her brow furrowing in genuine confusion as a particular phrase from the earlier confrontation lingered in her mind.
She looked up at Roswaal and Puck with wide, innocent eyes, her expression one of pure, untainted curiosity—like a child piecing together a puzzle far beyond her sheltered experience.
Her small fists clenched at her sides, not in anger, but in earnest determination to understand.
"It's just... I don't quite get it," she said, tilting her head slightly.
"What exactly is a 'cock,' and how should I suck it so that Subaru will return to us? I want to do whatever is necessary to bring him back."
Her words hung in the air, delivered with the wide-eyed sincerity of someone whose knowledge of the world was still so limited, shaped by years of isolation and the pure-hearted guidance of her spirit companion.
For a long, stunned moment, the room fell into absolute silence.
Puck's eyes bulged comically, his tiny mouth opening and closing without a sound as he processed the sheer innocence behind her question.
He floated there, utterly flabbergasted, his protective instincts clashing with the awkward reality of the situation.
Roswaal's satisfied grin faltered, his painted eyebrows shooting up in surprise before his expression shifted dramatically.
The nobleman's face darkened.
Then, without warning, Roswaal raised his palm toward Emilia, his fingers splaying out with deliberate calm.
The air around him crackled faintly with gathering magic, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of exasperation.
"Al goa!" he intoned, unleashing the spell in a burst of raw energy.
Chaos erupted immediately—Puck sprang into action with a startled yowl, shielding Emilia as flames and shadows danced wildly through the room.
Emilia gasped, stumbling back in confusion, while the once-orderly confrontation dissolved into a whirlwind of magic, shouts, and clashing wills, pulling everyone into the fray once more.
...
A few hours later, Roswaal sat upright on the edge of his bed, his entire upper body wrapped in thick layers of bandages.
The earlier conflict had taken a heavy toll on him.
His reckless decision to attack Emilia without warning had escalated into a brutal confrontation.
In the chaos, he ended up locked in direct combat with Puck, and the resulting clash tore apart a significant portion of the mansion.
Even Rem and Ram, who rushed in to try and restrain the situation, suffered injuries in the process.
If Emilia hadn't stepped in at the last moment to force Puck to stop, Roswaal would have unquestionably fought to the bitter end—either killing Puck or retreating only after he reached the point of absolute disadvantage.
The consequences were severe: Emilia's trust in Roswaal had been shattered completely.
However, despite her anger and fear toward him now, she was painfully aware she still had no choice but to rely on him if she wanted to protect the elves depending on her.
Puck, on the other hand, remained an unpredictable obstacle, likely to oppose Roswaal at every turn from here on.
Ram tied the final knot of the bandage with precise, practiced hands, ensuring no gaps remained.
Then she stepped back and nodded with her usual composed expression, hiding the concern behind her eyes.
"Lord Roswaal, the treatment is complete. You should refrain from sudden movements," she instructed calmly.
Roswaal slowly turned his head toward her, the faint paint across his face partially smeared from blood and sweat.
His voice croaked at first, then regained its familiar theatrical cadence.
"Raaaam," he called, dragging out her name in that exaggerated way only he could manage.
Ram straightened her posture immediately, placing a hand over her chest in a respectful maid's stance.
"Yes, Lord Roswaal? Do you have any further orders?"
Roswaal closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again with a strained but serious look.
"Once Subaru-kun haaas returned… I want you to apologize tooo him," he instructed, each extended syllable cutting sharply through the air.
Ram's expression visibly stiffened at the name.
"With all due respect, my Lord… asking me to do something like that to Barusu—" She stopped the moment Roswaal's gaze hardened.
"Raaam," he interjected, his tone suddenly coated in chilling authority.
"That waaasn't a request. It was an orrrder."
His mismatched eyes gleamed coldly, flashes of true menace leaking through the clownish affectation.
"I dooon't enjoy hitting my staffff… so don't make me dooo sometthiiing so unnecessary, okaaaay?"
Ram's breath caught, the faintest tremor running through her hands before she pressed them together.
She bowed deeply, voice tight yet obedient.
"Understood… Roswaal-sama. I will comply."
Roswaal exhaled, leaning back slightly as though the conversation had drained what little strength he had.
Ram glanced at him one last time—her loyalty unwavering, but her heart twisting with silent conflict—before she quietly stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
The corridor felt colder than usual as she walked away, her thoughts lingering on Emilia, Subaru, and most painfully… the man she had sworn her life to serve.
...
Meanwhile, deep within the Forbidden Library, Beatrice stood alone at the center of the room, tightly clutching the Tome of Wisdom in both hands.
The atmosphere was silent, save for her shaky breathing.
Tears streamed down her cheeks in an uncontrolled, messy flow that she didn't even bother to wipe away.
Her eyes were wide, glittering with disbelief and overwhelming emotion.
"Fi-finally…" she whispered with a trembling voice, staring down at the open pages as though afraid the words might vanish if she blinked.
Betty's small body quivered.
For hundreds of years she had been bound by the contract — four entire centuries of waiting, watching, and enduring unbearable loneliness.
Each passing day had been filled with uncertainty, doubt, and anger at a destiny she never chose.
Yet now, after so long, the answer she had desperately sought was right in front of her.
"Betty has waited… Betty has waited for so, so incredibly long, in fact!" she cried out, her voice breaking halfway as she squeezed the tome tighter, the paper rustling loudly from the pressure.
"All alone… Betty was always alone… just waiting for that one person to come…"
She let out a choked sob.
For the first time in over four hundred years, genuine relief washed over her entire soul.
The weight that had crushed her heart for so long finally lifted, if only a little.
And on the page before her… the words written by the Witch's authority were bold, permanent, and impossible to misinterpret:
[Natsuki Subaru is "That Person"]
Beatrice's breath hitched again.
Her tears drenched the corners of the tome as she leaned forward, staring at Subaru's name like it was the only truth that had ever mattered.
"So it really is him… That person Betty has been meant to meet… meant to wait for…" she muttered in a cracked voice, a faint, hopeful smile tugging at her lips for the first time in centuries.
The loneliness that had chained her existence… finally began to crumble.
And the library echoed only with her uneven breathing, her trembling joy, and the soft sound of tears hitting ancient magical paper.
To be continued...