Upon awakening, I am greeted by the graceful countenance of Emilia. Her long, silver eyelashes frame her smooth and delicate complexion, harmonizing with the tranquil morning air as her gentle breath graces the serenity. It is a magnificent sight that nourishes my senses upon rising.
To my astonishment, Emilia has draped her arm over me, enveloping me in an affectionate embrace, with Beatrice remaining betwixt us.
Were anyone to happen upon us at this moment, they might easily mistake us for an inseparable couple.
A smile plays upon my lips at this delightful twist of fate, and after admiring this peculiar tableau for a few moments, I tenderly caress Emilia's cheek.
Beneath my tender caress, her eyelids flutter, and she gradually begins to open her eyes, as if emerging from a deep slumber.
I maintain my radiant smile as she slowly awakens.
At a certain moment, she seems to become aware of my presence, for her eyes open wide with strength and intensity, searching for my presence right before her.
Before Emilia can utter a single word, I place my index finger upon her lips, indicating something below her. Curious, Emilia directs her gaze downward and discovers Beatrice, embracing her with tenderness.
In that very instant, a solitary tear escapes from Emilia's eye, laden with profound emotions.
Emilia delicately withdraws her arm from my form and enfolds Beatrice in a warm embrace. The light gradually intensifies, allowing me to clearly contemplate this beautiful scene bathed in the fullness of day.
"They appear as sisters," I comment, filled with emotion. "You were speaking in your sleep, and Beatrice decided to approach and comfort you."
A smile graces Emilia's countenance as she comprehends the underlying sentiments behind Beatrice's affectionate gesture. She tenderly caresses Beatrice's head, eliciting a gradual awakening beneath the gentle caresses.
Beatrice raises her head to meet the radiant gaze of Emilia. The latter smiles with affection and genuine happiness upon seeing her wake.
"Good morning," Emilia greets in a soft but warmly filled voice.
Upon realizing her present state of consciousness, Beatrice blushes faintly and releases her hold before turning her back to me.
"Good morning, I suppose," she timidly responds in barely audible murmurs.
It seems they have, in some way, forged a deeper connection. I hope that in the future, Beatrice will open up even further to Emilia, allowing both to share a more profound bond.
"Good morning to both of you. It appears you have rested well," I comment as we nod and leave the bed.
I stretch slightly to fully awaken, observing how Emilia remains absorbed in her thoughts, probably still somewhat drowsy.
Suddenly, Emilia directs her gaze toward Beatrice and takes her hands, surprising her with this unexpected proposal.
"Let's have a bath together!" Emilia exclaims with enthusiasm, met by Beatrice's bewildered expression.
"What...?" Beatrice stammers, unable to articulate a response to Emilia's impulsive and irresistible outburst. Emilia's eyes gleam like shooting stars, while Beatrice finds herself swept up in Emilia's spontaneous initiative.
Beatrice regards me with a certain incredulity, but I merely shrug resignedly. There is nothing I can do to halt Emilia's unwavering determination.
"Yes! Come!" Emilia exclaims, pulling Beatrice toward the door. "Hehe, I shall take a bath with the charming Betty."
"What did you just call me, in fact?" Beatrice attempts to object but is practically swept away by Emilia's overflowing excitement and enthusiasm.
Emilia pauses and fixes her gaze on Beatrice. She then slightly parts her lips and narrows her eyes, further enhancing her beauty with each gesture. Her voice resonates with profound emotions as she responds with a celestial smile that leaves us both astonished.
"Betty, the sweet spirit with an exceedingly beautiful heart."
Both of them exit the room, leaving me alone with the lingering echo of that magical moment. I walk to a drawer and retrieve the garments worn during our ceremony.
I had wished to examine them more closely, but if cloning them is currently impossible, it is best to put them to good use in another form.
Several hours later, I find myself standing on a platform before my soldiers. They all watch me expectantly, their gazes brimming with determination. Although they have worked diligently as never before, I can sense palpable vitality in each one of them.
"Soldiers! As you are well aware, today is the day when the candidates for the throne of Lugunica will make their presentation. For this reason, we will be heading to the capital. However, we are unaware of the dangers that may lurk on our journey, so we shall select those most suitable to accompany us on this voyage to Lugunica."
Each squadron has been assigned a number. I am not adept with names and seize this opportunity to instill greater order within our ranks, ensuring I can clearly identify each group. Although each squadron bears distinctive nicknames associated with its members.
All gaze with surprise and anticipation as they await my words. Some maintain neutral expressions, but all brim with determination.
Upon the completion of the selection, everyone regards me with solemnity and commitment.
"That is all!" I exclaim forcefully, prompting all of them to salute in unison.
"Yes, General!" they respond instantly, their voices melding into one.
The choice of Captain Lucas as the leader of the squadron was quite straightforward, owing to his unparalleled dedication and exceptional skills.
Apart from being a man of seriousness, Lucas' squadron is the most well-balanced in terms of abilities, complementing each other's weaknesses.
Lucas is a person endowed with great prowess, and although he may exhibit occasional sensitivity, he generally maintains unshakable strength.
"The selected individuals are to report to Lord Roswaal L. Mathers' mansion in one hour," I announce, extending my arm to issue orders. "Dismiss!"
I make my way to my office, where I find Otto working alongside Rem. They seem to be getting along better and better; Otto has experienced notable growth under Rem's tutelage, and she, in turn, has helped him address his deficiencies.
"Both of you, come here for a moment," I call to them. They stand before me, and I extract one of the communication devices from my jacket. Rem extends her hands to receive it with evident curiosity.
"This device will aid us in maintaining communication while I am away," I explain in detail. "It is imperative that we make use of it."
Rem gazes at me with surprise.
"Am I not accompanying you?" she inquires.
I immediately shake my head.
"The administrative situation is not particularly stable, and I need both of you to remain here to support the people. Since Roswaal is absent, someone must oversee all matters from here."
She quickly comprehends and nods understandingly.
Otto appears to notice the uncomfortable tension and attempts to make a light-hearted comment.
"In any case, with a candidate for the throne, we will have plenty of work," he says, striking a peculiar pose that captures both of our attention. "And what better way to give it our all?"
At that precise moment, Alsten bursts into the room. For a few seconds, his gaze lingers on Otto, who remains in his peculiar stance.
"General, I have come as you requested," Alsten ignores Otto and approaches me.
Otto tilts his head and reflects on his recent actions, while Rem offers a fleeting, small smile, and heads to her desk. I watch Alsten as I hand him the device and explain its function and purpose.
"Understood!" Alsten exclaims with determination. "The carriages and weapons are prepared and meticulously inspected."
With that, the preparations are complete, although something is still missing. My gaze falls upon an elegant black wooden box resting on my desk. Inside, there is a small gift intended for our valuable business partner.
A prelude to the commencement of our collaboration.
After an hour, I stand before the squadron at the mansion. All are clad in their uniforms with unwavering determination as they gaze at me intently. This is a squadron comprised of highly skilled individuals, possessing remarkable abilities.
"Our primary mission will be to gather information from the people," I inform them with solemnity. "I need you to be vigilant and prepared for any unforeseen circumstances."
The squadron's gazes betray no hesitation, except for Lucas. Each soldier possesses unique qualities in their own way. As Captain, Lucas commands all of them in this elite military unit. However, I chose not to select only captains for this specialized group.
Lessed is a robust man with prominent muscles, dark purple short hair, and impressive stature. He stands out for his exceptional physical abilities and unwavering endurance. On the other hand, Bert is one of the captains assigned to the squadron, but I decided to include him because this group represents a new force that requires the best from our army.
Arne, a mage specializing in earth elements who volunteered to join the army, possesses diverse abilities and leverages his mastery of magic for tactical advantages.
"Yes, General!" they respond in unison with determination.
I hand the staff to Lucas, and the squadron heads toward the prepared carriages. As we are more numerous this time, we require two carriages to fulfill our mission. In one, Emilia, Roswaal, Ram, Beatrice, and I will travel, while the other carriage will transport the squadron.
Emilia and Beatrice engage in animated conversation as they board the carriage. On the other hand, Roswaal and Ram embark with barely a word spoken.
"Let's go!" Emilia exclaims, inviting me to step inside.
With a resolute stride, I join them in the carriage, and we embark on our journey, filled with uncertainty toward the unknown.
The moment to emerge into the light has arrived, and now we must become an unstoppable force. Just before boarding the carriage, my gaze shifts to the mansion, where I see Luan observing from a window.
I smile at her and bid farewell with a gesture, wishing her a good day.
Once I take my seat, we set off for the capital.
The preparations are complete, and this time, everything will proceed without hitches. Measures against the whale have been taken; I need only speak with Alsten if necessary.
Furthermore, Rem is also in Irlam, so all will be well.
My priority now is to meet the guild of recommended blacksmiths by Baltazar and recruit them. Once we have them on board, we can hire people from nearby villages to transport them to Irlam.
If all goes as planned, Lugunica will have a new competitor in its industry.
I gaze at the landscape through the window as we travel. Each time I traverse this world, I can't help but ponder its flat nature: how the wind operates or how gravity functions here.
There must be something else regulating all of this; although some believe it's the Odd Laguna, I sense there is something deeper.
Being a flat world, if I ascend high enough, I should be able to see the limits of the horizon; however, when I attempted to do so with Beatrice, I saw nothing beyond.
In that fleeting moment, I spot something out of the ordinary through the window.
"Halt the carriages!" I exclaim with determination.
The carriages come to a halt, and I swiftly disembark. I walk a few steps until I stand before an extraordinary plant. This plant boasts a tall, upright stem, reaching up to two meters in height.
Its leaves are large, oval, and intensely green. They are arranged in a rosette around the stem, creating a dense and lush appearance.
I pay no heed to the words of the others as I gaze upon the plant with astonishment.
"What are you doing?" Emilia inquires, surprised.
"He's mad! I always knew it," Ram adds with disdain.
This plant is undoubtedly...
"Tobacco," I whisper, taken aback.
The existence of tobacco plants in this world has completely caught me by surprise. Tobacco, primarily cultivated for its nicotine content, possesses both relaxing and addictive effects.
This discovery could open up a new and promising market, something distinct from the pipes commonly used in this era, which only contain aromatic herbs.
"At what distance are we from the village?" I inquire of the driver with curiosity.
"We are not far, approximately an hour's distance," he replies.
The process of manufacturing tobacco is not particularly intricate; it involves drying the leaves, fermenting them, and repeating the drying process. However, I am unaware of how it might impact human health.
"My apologies for my previous reaction," I bow in a gesture of apology before rejoining the carriage.
Once inside, all eyes turn to me with expectant curiosity, even Roswaal appears intrigued by my unusual behavior.
"In my world, these plants are used to soothe the mind and calm the body. They are widely recognized, and their presence here has greatly surprised me."
After explaining how tobacco is processed and its various uses, accusatory gazes subside. Only Beatrice remains serene and unperturbed; undoubtedly, she is an angelic being.
As we spend time traveling to our final destination, I continue gazing out the window, organizing my thoughts.
"We will arrive just in time to witness the commencement of the elections. Tomorrow, we will have to meet with the blacksmiths," I say, checking the clock, indicating that there are only a few hours until noon.
"Indeed, Betty wishes to purchase some books," she looks at me longingly while holding my arm.
Beatrice has always had a deep love for reading; her mother's books were all research works and ancient tales. I am keen to acquire some novels to immerse myself in the literature of this place. Of course, my priority is books related to magic.
"I also wish to buy more books. We can go at sunset," I respond while affectionately stroking her head.
Finally, we arrive in the capital, and from a distance, I can sense the constant hustle and bustle of the place. The houses and everything around us exude life, fully justifying its title as the capital. Undoubtedly, this frenzy is primarily due to the elections that are about to begin.
We continue advancing until we reach the magnificent residence that Roswaal owns in the capital. Located near the imposing main castle, this house is a true treasure of beauty and spaciousness.
There is no doubt that Roswaal is extraordinarily wealthy in all material aspects.
The grand main castle stands majestically before us from this vantage point. Though launching an assault on the capital would be a supremely challenging endeavor, it also appears deceptively simple due to its strategic location.
Yet, I wonder what protective measures they have put in place to safeguard it.
"We must arrive as soon as possible," Roswaal fixes a determined gaze upon me, conveying his words with unwavering resolve.
My task will be to analyze potential cultists and those afflicted by the miasma, as well as to assess the internal situation independently. The only complication lies in my lack of noble status; hence, my interactions may be constrained.
I observe my soldiers, their faces eager for instructions.
"You shall be responsible for gathering vital information," I assert firmly. "I need you to consult with the merchants about the types of products recently imported and the most demanded goods."
Since we are not an officially recognized force, it is impossible for my men to enter directly. Only those formally invited, along with their attendants, have authorized access.
"Understood, General!" they respond in unison, determination etched upon their faces.
Roswaal approaches me and whispers solemnly:
"I have obtained permission for these individuals to enter."
It is not surprising that Roswaal has secured such authorization, given his influence. However, what is perplexing is that I never requested such permission. It is possible that this is a trap.
"Is their entry truly necessary?" I inquire cautiously, while desperately seeking an appropriate excuse.
"Gathering commercial information will be more straightforward through some well-acquainted merchants," Roswaal responds with conviction. "Undoubtedly, the most crucial aspect is their recognition and networking capabilities."
My mind races to find the best approach to navigate this uncertain situation.
His words unveil an undeniable truth, yet Roswaal is not the kind of man driven by a desire to assist. Regardless, upon entering this place, I knew our rifles would come to light.
The real concern lies in the risk of them attempting to steal our weapons. In that regard, being here is even safer.
"Understood. Thank you for your assistance," I convey to Roswaal as he proceeds to converse with the estate's attendants.
My attention then turns to my soldiers.
"We have a change of plans," I announce firmly. "Lord Roswaal L Mathers has granted us permission to enter the castle; we must demonstrate what we are made of."
My words resound with strength, and a wave of excitement courses through everyone. They likely never imagined having the opportunity to set foot inside the capital's main castle, but now it is entirely possible.
Roswaal decides to exchange the carriages for ones with a more elegant appearance, featuring formal designs that are not excessively ostentatious.
Without further ado, we set off towards the castle, and it takes us less than ten minutes to enter. The place is undeniably beautiful: statues adorn its interior, and several fountains are strategically placed.
Upon stepping out of the carriage, the magnificence of the place is immediately apparent; compared to this imposing fortress, even Roswaal's mansion pales in size.
Several vigilant knights watch closely as nobles come and go.
The servants are easily distinguishable by their attire, following the same style used by Roswaal. I choose to remain in my military uniform to make it clear that it was the Irlam army that triumphed, not just me.
Emilia also wears the elegant military attire crafted by Rem, giving her a serious and formal appearance. The only difference is her carefully crafted hairstyle by Rem to accentuate her distinctive ears and eyes.
As we start walking, all eyes are on us; it's evident that the attention is focused on Emilia. However, we all maintain a neutral expression. Once inside the grand hallway of the castle, the gazes become more intense.
Whispers accompany the unfriendly looks directed at us.
I can't see Emilia's face, as I must stay behind her, but her posture hasn't changed. She walks with determination as we head to the reception where the formal electoral process will commence.
The reception room is narrow in comparison to the castle's grand corridors. The paintings and artworks adorning the walls are sophisticated, with a detailed and realistic style that transcends the abstract.
My soldiers cannot enter, so they must remain outside.
They line both sides of the hallway, ready to act if something happens outside the room. Roswaal converses with the knight stationed at the door, who gives me a brief glance before opening the way.
Before crossing the threshold, Emilia approaches me with a slightly nervous look.
"Could you stay behind me throughout this time?" she asks, her hands fidgeting.
I understand her desire to find solace in this tense situation. However, I cannot behave as she might wish. She knows this well, but perhaps she only sought to hear it said aloud.
Placing my left hand over my chest, I take her right hand in mine. I gaze directly into her eyes as she fixes her gaze on me.
"Regrettably, I cannot grant your request," I respond solemnly. "I am prepared to face any consequences later. Now is the time for you to shine and illuminate everyone with your unparalleled grace and beauty. I know you will perform flawlessly, for you possess a will and strength superior to any other."
My soldiers follow my words by raising their military salute towards Emilia, expressing with determination:
"Miss Emilia, the army and the people of Irlam wish you success in your presentation."
"Do your best, I suppose," adds Beatrice.
Emilia looks surprised at everyone present. Her hands cease to tremble, and a confident smile graces her face.
"Yes! Thank you, everyone."
Emilia turns and heads to her position. Roswaal accompanies her there. All eyes converge on her; some are tinged with disdain while barely audible whispers fill the air. Some knights cast disdainful glances, and nobles display expressions laden with profound scorn.
Emilia maintains her smile, walking with confidence as Roswaal accompanies her.
Ahead stand Crusch and Anastasia, their backs held straight in compliance with protocol. I make my way to where the knights are stationed and come across Reinhard. Upon seeing me, he smiles and signals for me to join them.
Brimming with assurance, I stride alongside Beatrice toward the group of knights, immediately capturing the attention of Felix, who is the first to greet.
"Marco! Hello! Nya!" Felix exclaims with joy, then turns his gaze to Beatrice. "Who is this adorable child you've brought with you, Marco?"
Felix's eyes widen in surprise, and he positions himself behind me.
"Is she your daughter?" he asks, not even giving me a chance to respond.
However, Reinhard gazes at Beatrice with astonishment and inclines slightly in a show of respect.
"You must be a great spirit, am I correct? Please pardon my presumption," Reinhard says with reverence.
Beatrice watches Reinhard, clearly agitated, probably because she can sense him absorbing the ambient magical energy just by standing there.
"I am, indeed" Beatrice retorts sharply.
Felix reacts swiftly to Beatrice's words and smiles at her.
"Nya! What is Marco doing with a great spirit?"
Beatrice firmly holds my hand as she responds.
" I have no reason to answer that question, I suppose" I reply with a smile.
I proceed to explain to both Felix and Reinhard that I recently entered into a contract with Beatrice. Reinhard mentions Beatrice's renown among the nobility, as several have attempted to contract with her.
"That would explain some of the looks," I murmur as I shift my gaze to the section of nobles at the top of the hall, where some divert their eye contact with me.
From the outset, I noticed certain gazes directed at me and thought it was due to being an unknown figure, but it appears it's because of Beatrice.
"Regardless, I'm glad to see both of you well," I comment with a smile.
Felix observes both of us with a smile, taking advantage of the moment when everyone is getting organized.
"Miss Crusch said you would come, but I didn't expect to see you here," Felix remarks curiously.
Reinhard glances at Beatrice and asks, "Do you two already know each other?"
Felix directs his gaze to Reinhard and responds without hesitation, "Marco and Miss Crusch have business contracts, so there are occasions when we see each other, nya! Although it's been a few times."
I look at Reinhard, adding something without saying much, "We can talk calmly once this is over."
Reinhard nods, and we both take our positions. In front of him stands a knight with purple hair, whose elegant demeanor and sophisticated appearance make him seem like the very embodiment of the ideal knight.
The knight turns towards us and appears surprised to see us, immediately bowing to Beatrice. She shows surprise at this gesture but cannot take her eyes off Julius, who returns a confident smile.
"It is a great pleasure to have the company of a great spirit," Julius says with a serious and calm tone.
Julius's assured attitude surprises some of the people present, though due to the current tense situation, he offers only this brief greeting. Beatrice seems to be breathless, likely due to the divine blessing that Julius possesses.
At that very moment, the doors open once again to usher in the next candidate for the throne.
Priscilla Barielle, with her long reddish-blonde hair shining like the sun itself, flows from a single hairpin before cascading down her back.
Her crimson eyes have a glint of determination that betrays her dominant personality. Her skin is pale and fair, and her lips are slightly rosy.
She walks with grace, never breaking her gaze, exuding an aura of confidence as she approaches to take her position. Her aristocratic black and red gown is luxurious, with draped sleeves falling from her shoulders and a red ankle-length skirt with a generous hem.
She wears a black petticoat, a large black ribbon with red stripes around her waist, and an ornament adorned with black embroidered flowers in emerald jewels on the opposite side.
Once positioned, everyone begins to settle in to commence the event.
Her dress is also backless and adorned with several emeralds attached to the skirt. It's a design favored by the Vollachian royalty, making it excessively elegant and imposing.
Behind Félix stands his knight, whose robust build and bulging musculature give him a formidable presence.
My gaze is immediately drawn to his left arm, incomplete from the forearm down, wrapped in bandages concealing the stump where it used to be. Several scattered scars adorn his body, including a pair of claw-shaped marks on his right forearm.
His unkempt appearance, disheveled attire, and unshaven legs while wearing sandals give him the semblance of a bandit or some other marginalized figure.
Undoubtedly, his appearance starkly contrasts with that of his mistress, Priscilla Barielle.
Once all of us have arrived, the Council of Elders makes their solemn entrance. Elderly men proceed to their seats; they are the ones who govern Lugunica in the absence of the king.
As they slowly walk, one of them briefly shifts his gaze to me before continuing on to Beatrice. I hadn't foreseen that my companion would attract so much negative attention.
Finally, when everyone is seated in front of us, the Chief Supreme Knight, Marcos Gildark, assumes a serious stance and directs his gaze towards the candidates as he begins to narrate:
"For a long time," he explains, "members of the royal family have been concealing..."
But Anastasia interrupts abruptly with an arrogant and impatient tone:
"Wait a moment," she interjects, "I understand you might want to put on a spectacle or something, but I'm a very busy person," she gazes at Gildark while waving her hand impatiently. "As they say in Kararagi, time is money. I don't see the need to add these narrations that contribute nothing in the end. I have many things to do, and the last thing I want to do is waste my time."
Crusch shrugs at Anastasia's words, but then speaks with gravity:
"I concur with her."
Gildark questions whether someone like her should express herself in this manner, but Crusch rebuts, arguing for the clear importance of traditions and formalities.
"The time of all those present is limited," she adds, causing Anastasia to look toward her in approval.
The reason for Crusch's haste is unveiled as preparations for the whale's appearance, and her final words confirm my worst suspicions.
The whale is about to make its entrance.
"It would be prudent for us to inform ourselves immediately, as we are here," she concludes, prompting one of the sages to speak.
An elderly man with a luxuriant well-groomed beard and completely white hair, along with the evident wrinkles on his face, betrays his advanced age.
"Miss Crusch, do you know why we are here?"
Crusch smiles proudly as she nods affirmatively.
"It's a celebration. In this way, even though we are rivals, we can establish relationships," she responds with assurance.
The truth is, I don't know what to make of it. It's impossible to believe that she is unaware of the true purpose of the event. Her response is unheard of; I suppose she must have other hidden intentions beneath that friendly facade.
The great sage promptly dismisses her explanation and turns his gaze towards Felix. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and I offer him a faint smile as he awaits instructions to provide explanations.
Felix expounds upon the matter expeditiously, and Crusch hastily offers her apologies. Nevertheless, Anastasia leaves no room for any possible reconciliation.
Her stubbornness has only succeeded in squandering more time than necessary.
"Excuse me! You may regret your words right now, but I do not regret mine," she asserts, turning her gaze toward Emilia and Priscilla. "Is it not a waste of time, perhaps?"
Emilia remains silent, keeping her gaze forward. There is no need to add anything more when the people around you are embroiled in discussions.
Silence is the best possible response.
Priscilla, on the other hand, speaks with a stern and confident tone:
"Let it continue; after all, they will insist on explaining their reasons," she adds without directing her gaze at anyone in particular. "Continue, Gildark."
Gildark proceeds to explain the primary reason for our gathering. A new prophecy has been inscribed on the Dragonstone, stating that five priestesses marked by the Dragon must come together. Once selected, they will be the candidates to ascend to the throne of Lugunica.
At that moment, the room is filled with confusion because there are only four candidates present.
"Sir Reinhard Van Astrea! Step forward!" Gildark exclaims, causing Reinhard to change his expression to a confident look. He strides to the front with determination, capturing everyone's attention. In an instant, he kneels on one knee, places his hand over his heart, and proclaims with certainty:
"Honorable members of the council of sages, I... Reinhard Van Astrea, a member of the Imperial Knights, announce the fulfillment of my mission."
Rising with elegance and firmness, he adds:
"The fifth and final Dragon priestess, and candidate for the throne," after a dramatic pause, he exclaims: "Has been found!"