At the same time, outside the Roswaal mansion.
A few minutes earlier.
"How strict, meow~ What kind of important intelligence exchange is this, that Reinhard only allows Lady Crusch and the others to participate personally? Even a close friend like me isn't allowed near. And yet Subaru gets to go in, meow~"
"Because young Mr. Natsuki and the others are the hosts, while we are guests."
Standing beside the dragon carriage's driver's seat, the old gentleman calmly handed a tray to the pretty-faced cat-eared boy at his side, ignoring the latter's deliberate cuteness. He seemed long accustomed to the boy's every gesture brimming with feminine traits—or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he carried himself with the sly cleverness of a mother cat.
"Those people in the Royal Capital have truly gone too far. Even the elders of the Council of Wise Men have been blinded by profit, passing such a resolution. For the sake of short-term gains, they actually ignore the malice of the Sacred Selene Empire."
Picking up the hot tea from the tray, the old gentleman's clear blue eyes, hidden within deep wrinkles, gleamed sharply.
"It's poisoned candy—and they dared to swallow it."
"Meow~ The Council probably had no choice."
Draped in a white cloak embroidered with dragon patterns and dressed beneath it in the uniform of the Royal Guard Knights, the cat-eared boy—bestowed by Lugunica with the highest-ranking healer title, 'Blue'—let his wrist droop and sway softly like a cat's paw as he accepted the tea. He stuck out his tongue cutely.
"After all, Uncle Wilhelm, Lady Anastasia was acknowledged by the Council as a Royal Selection candidate despite being from the Kararagi City-States. The elders likely value her talent as an operator and entrepreneur. That is precisely what the Kingdom desperately needs right now."
"...Yes. Finances."
The old gentleman, addressed as Wilhelm, merely took a light sip of tea and narrowed his eyes.
"The so-called sages are not so sage. Compared to us, Count Roswaal's border territory is far more tranquil."
The Kingdom of Lugunica appeared calm on the surface, but beneath it turmoil had long been brewing.
With the royal line extinct and conflicts with neighboring nations occurring repeatedly—especially territorial disputes with the southern Vollachian Empire—years of small-scale yet high-intensity warfare had drained resources. Add to that last year's great famine and stagnation caused by mismanaged state enterprises, and the Kingdom's finances had worsened further.
Even the Royal Capital now had sprawling slums. Pickpocketing, theft, and robbery occurred frequently.
Take, for example, one of the Royal Selection candidates, Felt. Before meeting Reinhard, theft had been her means of survival. "If I didn't do that, I'd have had to sell my body."
And this was the Royal Capital—the land beneath the king's feet, the most prosperous place in the Kingdom. The internal troubles of Lugunica were plain to see.
If this were the Sacred Selene Empire, leaving aside the uneven technological conditions of its colonial worlds, in the Honkai Dimension's inner ring governor districts, if theft or robbery occurred and was reported, the responsible official would have the culprit identified and the case closed within a day.
If the case remained unsolved, the Department of Justice would mark a strike against that official's record. Too many strikes meant incompetence and dereliction of duty.
As for slums appearing in the Imperial Capital?
That would not merely be a matter of punishing a few people. Empress Selene would personally take a blade to the central officials, conducting several rounds of sweeping purges. No department would be spared. Those involved would best begin writing their wills.
After the extinction of the royal line, the Council of Wise Men, now governing in the king's stead, was already overwhelmed. Lacking the courage for drastic reform, they could only patch and mend, buying time year after year.
Faced with the Sacred Selene Empire—offering astronomical quantities of material aid without speaking of ideals, only of tangible goods, like an absurdly generous benefactor—the Council lost its bearings.
When had they ever encountered such an extravagant diplomatic delegation? They did not ask about price—only whether the goods existed. They handed over blank checks to be filled in at will.
As members of the House of Karsten and with connections to the Royal Guard Knights, the two of them were half eyewitnesses. They naturally understood the details of the Empire's visit to the Council.
In short, after the talks concluded, the elders of the Council beat their chests in regret— they had written the numbers too small.
The Council had assumed they were making outrageous demands, yet the Imperial delegation showed no intention of bargaining and signed the agreement without hesitation. Soon after, the first shipment of supplies arrived—enough grain to feed the entire Royal Capital for half a year.
That was also why the Council forgave the conflict between the Empire's delegation and the Royal Guard Knights, turning a blind eye to several halls of the council chamber being smashed to ruins.
Certain perceptive members of the Royal Guard had seen the hidden dangers in clauses about land purchases, resource surveys, and unrestricted passage throughout the realm. They fiercely accused the Imperial delegation—only to be brutally wounded and knocked unconscious by the Empire's military officer. The officer even went on to withstand the attack of the arriving [Sword Saint], Reinhard.
Perhaps the Council had never truly expected the terms to be fulfilled. But when faced with the vast resources delivered—enough to survive the famine year and even wage war against the Vollachian Empire—their bottom line was crossed step by step.
It was like a drowning man clutching at a straw. With so few options to combat the famine and finances so strained, the Council had effectively treated the Empire as a blood transfusion source.
The Empire provided supplies in installments. As long as the Council was unwilling to relinquish such easily obtained astronomical aid, they would have to agree to the implementation of the terms.
It was, on the surface, mutually willing.
But when would the Council be satisfied? Did they truly believe that once they deemed the aid sufficient, they could simply kick the Sacred Selene Empire aside?
Whoosh...
A gentle breeze stirred the ripples on the surface of his tea. Wilhelm slowly raised his head, gazing toward the high-level conference hall within the Roswaal mansion.
Forget it. I left the Astrea family long ago and no longer belong to the Royal Guard Knights. Now I am merely a butler of House Karsten and Lady Crusch's swordsmanship instructor.
Let the upper circles of the Royal Capital entangle themselves as they wish...
Closing one eye, the old gentleman lightly lifted his teacup to his lips, glancing in passing at the other two dragon carriages parked in the mansion courtyard, each with distinct styles.
A burly one-armed warrior who never removed his helmet, and a petite blonde girl in a light, gauzy outfit—subordinates of Lady Priscilla.
A handsome man also clad in the Royal Guard uniform, accompanied by a canine beastman and three small cat beastmen—a peculiar group of Lady Anastasia's supporters.
"Felix, won't you go chat with your colleague? I see him glancing this way from time to time. He seems eager to speak with you."
Noticing the enthusiastic gaze of the handsome knight, Wilhelm smiled faintly and glanced at the cat-eared boy beside him.
"Nope. In a formal setting like this, we belong to different Royal Selection camps after all..."
He was speaking in a soft, coquettish tone when Felix suddenly froze. His bright, catlike yellow eyes contracted sharply.
Vrrrrrrrrr—
Beyond the visible horizon, a peal of thunder roared in!
"Not a natural thundercloud."
Setting down his teacup, the old gentleman straightened his back. As he murmured, his blue eyes fixed on the black dots in the sky, sharp enough to seem capable of piercing the clouds themselves.
Crash!
"What's happening?"
At that moment, the windows of the high-level conference hall were pushed open. Hearing the commotion, Crusch and the other Royal Selection candidates leaned out, calling to their respective subordinates and supporters.
Shing!
Without waiting for a reply, Wilhelm's drawn sword lightly tapped off the ground and landed almost soundlessly upon the arched bay window frame of the conference hall.
The old man spoke gravely, "Lady Crusch, this is no natural thunderstorm. Whether enemy or not, we must act with caution."
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Almost simultaneously, the guardians of the Royal Selection candidates made the same decision—drawing their blades and moving to stand close beside the lords they served.
Except for Subaru Natsuki—
"Scatter!"
Grabbing the bewildered Emilia and Ram, Subaru screamed hoarsely, "Scatter! All of you! That's not thunder! A sonic boom at that level—with continuous air-ripping shrieks—it has to be military aircraft! They're patrolling nearby!"
"Reinhard, if you trust me, get out of the room!"
"Don't cluster together! Leave the upper floors! Go to the ground level near open ground! Find cover!"
As soon as he finished shouting, he dashed toward the corridor without looking back. "Ram, I'm leaving Emilia-tan to you! Call Frederica and Petra! Get to a safe position near open ground!" In his panic, he forcefully pressed Emilia's and Ram's small hands together.
"Subaru!"
"Barusu!"
"Don't worry about me." Giving a thumbs-up, Subaru dragged the two girls to the stairway before turning and sprinting toward a room elsewhere in the mansion.
Thud thud thud!
"Don't be unlucky don't be unlucky don't be unlucky—please don't let me be unlucky ahhhh—"
Racing wildly along the long corridor lined with red carpet, Subaru's already somewhat villainous-looking face twisted into something even fiercer as he muttered like a madman.
Why would Imperial aircraft be here?
After dying so many times and being tortured so often, he had long since developed the habit of assuming the worst possible scenario in anything that happened to him!
Did the Sacred Selene Empire's colonizers see an opportunity to decapitate all five Royal Selection candidates at once while they gathered at the border? I'm Emilia-tan's knight—does that make me a target too?!
"Damn it! Damn it damn it damn it!"
Warm sunlight streamed through the evenly spaced windows along the corridor. As the black-haired boy ran, faint dust seemed to rise from the carpet. In the clusters of broken light, the scene looked almost like a soft-focus long-lens shot—beautiful and serene—forming a stark contrast to the boy's frantic turmoil.
Vroooom!
The engine's roar—
Subaru couldn't help but turn his head, eyes locked onto the horizon beyond the windows.
In that moment, it was like an old film reel stuttering. Window, wall, window, wall... cycling repeatedly. Outside, against the blinding sunlight, dozens of black dots grew larger with every passing second, accompanied by the swelling thunder of engines.
Thump... thump thump... thump thump thump...
Each second felt painfully distinct. Subaru could feel his heart accelerating at an unprecedented rate. Blood surged through his veins. Every beat felt like burning adrenaline. For a fleeting instant, he clearly saw the true form of the "black dots."
Compact, sharply angled wings. A heavy fuselage that looked capable of ramming through targets. Numerous savage weapon mounts that completely disregarded aerodynamic elegance.
And the low, piercing howl now so close it made the windows tremble.
They had lowered their altitude!
As the formation shifted, Subaru's eyes nearly split open in horror. From beneath several aircraft—under their wings and bellies—guided rockets detached from their launch racks with crisp mechanical clicks.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh—
Trailing blue flames, they carved dazzling arcs through the sky—beautiful streaks of light that, to Subaru, were nothing less than lethal harbingers of death.
Through the glass window, the rockets grew larger and larger in his pupils.
"Beatrice!!"
BOOM!BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM—
The first rocket slammed into the mansion's stone wall, and the explosion erupted. In the next instant, deafening blasts chained together, shaking the entire castle with violent creaks. A savage shockwave tore the roof away. Shattered statues from the eaves burst into roaring flames and crashed down into the courtyard below in clouds of smoke.
Billowing black smoke filled every corner. Spiraling flames rose into the sky like burning clouds. Glass shattered like scattered petals, spraying outward in blazing fragments that rained across the entire estate with sharp clattering impacts.
Bearing the roaring dragon emblem of the Black Templars, the Imperial fighter formation streaked across the sky six or seven hundred meters above the estate with sharp whoosh sounds.
"Direct hit."
Inside the lead aircraft at the center of the V-shaped formation, the squadron leader—wearing a holographic fixed-wing combat helmet—glanced at the flashing red dot on the energy-detection display, now obscured by flame and smoke, and opened a channel to the theater command center.
"Calling command center. This is Lugunica Theater, Mezas Territory Auxiliary Army Ground-to-Air Search Team E. We have detected a target with high-concentration Witch's miasma. Suspected Witch Cult Sin Archbishop-level. Attack initiated. Over."
After speaking, the squadron leader casually switched to another communication channel.
"Hey! Marines, you've got work."
Static crackled briefly before the voice of a drop-assault Marine officer sounded from inside a multipurpose transport gunship. "Copy."
"Call if you need fire support. Good hunting."
"Understood. The mansion owner appears to hold significant status. We'll bring you back some souvenirs."
"Happy hunting. For Selene!"
"For Selene!"
...
Crash!
"It's all right, Princess Felt."
Using his body to shield the petite Felt beneath him, Reinhard pushed aside the slanted stone wall pressing down on them. Holding her trembling shoulders steady, he swept aside the searing smoke curtain with his hand, his expression grim as he took in the now-open, roofless ruin of the mansion.
"...Subaru. Was this aimed at you again? Why are you always the first to be targeted..."
The explosion had come from the direction Subaru had sprinted toward after urging them to evacuate.
One wing of the castle, shaped like a flattened U, had collapsed by more than half. The ground was scarred and ablaze.
However, sensing the abundant flow of mana beneath the rubble, he let out a faint breath of relief.
Just as he prepared to move, a gust of wind carrying scorching heat surged into the hall.
Thud!Thud!Thud thud!
Heavy objects landed in succession. Stone fragments and stained glass were crushed underfoot with grating, teeth-grinding squeals.
"In the name of the Sacred Emperor Selene, leave not a single Witch Cultist alive!" (Imperial Common Tongue)
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