Crusch could hardly launch an open assault on them within the Royal Capital itself. And even if she did, so what? They had more than enough firepower to handle it. Worst case, if the fight turned south, no one alive could stop them from leaving.
"According to my sources, the Witch Cult has been unusually active lately. Frequent movements, most of them within Lugunica's borders."
The Witch Cult.
Gojo's interest sharpened. He'd heard the name more than once, the fanatical sect devoted to the Witch of Envy. The bizarre incidents surrounding Natsuki Subaru had already drawn his attention toward the Witch, and Elsa's people had their own tangled connections to the cult.
"What does the Witch Cult have to do with Emilia?"
"Oh? I assumed you and Emilia were close." Anastasia's smile turned playful, as though she'd stumbled onto something amusing. "You didn't know? The moment Emilia stepped into the public eye, everything changed. A silver-haired Half-Elf... that identity alone is enough to stir up all kinds of trouble."
"Ah. They've connected her to whatever it is they worship."
"The specifics, I couldn't say. Nobody wants ties to the Witch Cult if they can help it." She paused. "Though I've also heard that Roswaal's domain has begun making moves of its own."
Gojo nodded. Both pieces of intelligence held value. Compared to the other candidates, who had full organizations feeding them information, his faction's intelligence-gathering was sorely lacking.
"Well then. Deal's done."
"I do hope we'll have the chance to do business again, Mr. Gojo. Peacefully, like this."
"Count on it. Until next time."
His smile was warm and easy. Conflict held no appeal for him. He'd rather spend that time drinking tea and eating pastries.
Anastasia turned to leave with Julius at her side. As she reached the edge of the training grounds, she paused near Crusch and offered a gentle smile.
"A small piece of advice. Don't make deals with Mr. Gojo. The price is steeper than you'd think."
She didn't wait for a response. Didn't look back to see Crusch's reaction.
"That was a lie."
Crusch watched the merchant's retreating figure, her voice flat and certain.
"She's trying to mislead us, meow."
"The question is which part was the lie."
Crusch pulled her gaze away from Anastasia and strode directly toward Gojo.
"Lady Crusch."
Wilhelm called after her, but she waved him off without breaking stride.
"A queen who would replace the Divine Dragon cannot afford to be more timid than a merchant."
Her mind was made up. Wilhelm said nothing further, falling into step beside Felix as they followed her onto the field.
"Welcome, welcome." Gojo's mood brightened visibly when he saw all three approaching without hostile intent. "Looks like Anastasia already told you about the deal. Saves me the trouble."
"A deal?"
"You know why we're still here, Mr. Gojo. Does that qualify as tradeable information?"
Crusch was composed, direct. Anastasia's parting words flickered through her mind.
"Of course. I'm guessing the thing you're most curious about is my ability, the one that prevents anyone from getting close or making contact."
"I can sign a Vow and explain it to you in full. In return, you'll need to offer something I find worthwhile."
"Anastasia paid quite the premium..."
"Mr. Gojo, allow me to interrupt. Given our respective positions, there's no need for dishonesty. Lies cannot deceive me."
Gojo's expression stiffened. He scratched his cheek, grumbling internally.
Specialized Divine Protections. Another annoying thing about this world.
Without a Divine Protection that revealed other people's Divine Protections, you never knew what the person standing in front of you was carrying. Even trying to inflate a price a little was an uphill battle.
"Then I'll offer the same price Anastasia paid. Is that acceptable?"
"When you put it like that, what choice do I have?"
He spread his hands in resignation.
"Twenty Holy Gold Coins and two pieces of valuable intelligence. Preferably about the other Royal Candidates. And if the information overlaps with what Anastasia already gave me, I reserve the right to request a replacement."
The moment she heard the price, Crusch understood something with perfect clarity. Anastasia's parting warning, the part about not making deals with Gojo... that had been the truth.
Twenty Holy Gold Coins was a steep sum by anyone's measure. But for a Royal Candidate's faction, it was manageable, even with two pieces of intelligence thrown in.
Which meant the real advice, the genuine warning, was exactly what Anastasia had said aloud. Don't deal with him. The return on investment was terrible.
And yet, knowing full well that Anastasia had been sincere, Crusch couldn't afford to walk away. On matters of intelligence, especially something like this, she refused to fall behind a rival candidate.
"Agreed. Let's sign the Vow."
Clean and decisive. She sent Felix to fetch the payment.
Once the Vow was sealed, Gojo explained the Limitless Cursed Technique.
Crusch's brow furrowed. When he finished, silence hung between them.
The feeling was hard to describe. She held intelligence of undeniable importance. The Vow hadn't triggered. Her Divine Protection confirmed he wasn't lying.
And she couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. The concepts blurred together, leaving her with only a vague, foggy outline of understanding. No wonder Anastasia had said what she'd said after completing her own trade.
"Your turn, Crusch."
Gojo watched the subtly complicated expression playing across her face and felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward.
"Two pieces of intelligence. First: the White Whale, one of the Three Great Mabeasts, has recently been sighted again within Lugunica. Based on analysis of its movement patterns, it may pass near the Royal Capital. The exact time and location remain unknown."
"Second: you may choose. Would you prefer information about Priscilla, or about Reinhard's father?"
Gojo glanced across the grounds toward Reinhard. He hadn't expected that option.
Now that he thought about it, during all the time he'd spent at the Astrea household, Reinhard's father had never once appeared. Not at home, and not at the assembly either, despite holding the rank of Deputy Commander. That was strange.
"Reinhard."
The choice confused him.
So he did what came naturally. He turned toward Reinhard and waved both arms overhead, shouting across the field.
Reinhard jogged over.
"Gojo, what is it..."
"Reinhard, do you know where your father's been? What he's been doing lately?"
"I... I'm sorry. I don't."
He shook his head, regret plain on his face.
"The intelligence you're offering is something even Reinhard doesn't know?"
"That's correct."
"Then I'll take that one."
The decision was instant.
Under normal circumstances, he'd have chosen the other candidates. Knowing your rivals was the foundation of competing against them. But this was different.
Reinhard was one of their own. If this information could serve as a bridge, maybe it could mend something between father and son, ease whatever had fractured between them.
And if Reinhard's father could be brought around to their side? All the better.
"Heinkel is currently near the Barielle domain. He's reportedly searching for a group of thieves and a Silver Cup said to cure any disease."
Crusch's tone was neutral, matter-of-fact. But at the mention of a cup that could cure any disease, something dimmed behind Reinhard's eyes.
"I see."
"Well then, deal's done. A very satisfying transaction."
Gojo stretched, arms reaching overhead, contentment written across his face. The entire day's work was finally wrapped up. They'd earned a healthy pile of Holy Gold Coins and gathered solid intelligence, but spending an entire day at the training grounds had taken its toll.
"Felt, I expect overtime pay for today."
"You shameless... Betty was the one fighting all day!"
"Now, now, Betty. You're still young. As your contracted Spirit Arts User, it's my duty to hold onto those Holy Gold Coins for safekeeping. What if someone swindles you? Like, say, a certain money-obsessed girl."
The art of offending two small girls with a single sentence. Gojo had refined this particular skill to a masterwork. Before the words had finished leaving his mouth, Betty and Felt were already huddling together, plotting his punishment.
"If the deal is concluded, we'll take our leave. I'll have Felix deliver the coins to the Astrea household."
Crusch gave Felt a lingering look, then excused herself.
Once the outsiders were gone, Felt dropped all pretense of composure, stomped on Gojo's foot, then spun toward Reinhard with stars in her eyes.
"Reinhard, do you think the knights will come back for more tomorrow? I saw that Felix guy healing all their injuries."
She was already cracking her knuckles. "If they come again, that's another few hundred Holy Gold Coins."
"After what happened today, I doubt they'll be challenging anyone for a while."
Reinhard shook his head, remembering the carnage. The entire knight order hadn't managed to get past Betty. Challenging Gojo after that? The idea was laughable.
"What? Why not? Because they can't win?"
"Betty, what if you hold back a little tomorrow? Give them the illusion they're close to winning."
"Makes no difference to me. They're all beaten opponents anyway."
"And if that doesn't work, we'll have this idiot stand outside the Knight Fortress and taunt them. Tell them the knights are a bunch of cowards who lost once and don't have the guts to try again!"
Felt was on a roll, her mind a whirlwind of profit schemes.
"Or we could hire people to spread the word! They wouldn't want to be called cowards forever, right?"
Reinhard smiled weakly. The liege he'd sworn himself to was determined to squeeze his former colleagues for every last coin. If she went through with this, the entire order's reputation would be in shambles.
"If you're going to fleece them, at least don't target the same flock over and over." Gojo fixed Felt with a righteous stare. "Even if the knights aren't tired, don't you think I might be? That Betty might be?"
"What's tiring about making money?"
"Easy for you to say. You don't do any of the work."
"Who says I don't? I'll go drum up publicity tomorrow myself!"
"You're serious?"
"Fine, we won't even make Betty fight. Let them challenge you directly. If you think it's too much hassle, tell them to come at you all at once. Wipe them out in one go."
In the span of a minute, Felt had rattled off half a dozen proposals.
"Honestly, you only ever show this much initiative when money's involved."
Gojo shook his head. "Let's table this for now. You might not care about running Betty into the ground, but I do."
"Felt is talking about you," the Great Spirit of Yin said coolly, delivering a ruthless backstab to her own Spirit Arts User. "This has nothing to do with me. I think you're looking for excuses to be lazy."
"Exactly!"
"Then it's settled. I'm going to the Slums tomorrow to spread the word!"
Felt's resolve was ironclad. The plan was simple enough: exchange a few copper coins, make a lap through the Slums, and let the gossip network do the rest. Within a day, the entire Royal Capital would know.
"By the way, Reinhard. What are you thinking?"
Gojo turned to him, the question casual but pointed.
He didn't spell it out, but Reinhard understood what he was asking.
His father. Heinkel.
"Want to go help him?"
"If you don't mind, I could also take a look at your mother."
Reinhard's mother had fallen ill when he was two years old, struck by a strange disease that had defied every attempt at treatment. Like the royal family's affliction, it had persisted for years without a cure.
They called it Sleeping Beauty Disease.
Those who contracted it fell into an endless slumber. Their bodies didn't age, didn't deteriorate. Even Felix, one of the kingdom's finest healers, couldn't undo it or identify its cause. The most thorough examinations returned the same maddening conclusion: the patient was perfectly healthy. No treatment necessary.
She simply wouldn't wake up.