Roswaal's Monologue
I am a Victim.
My existence took on a whole new meaning the moment she crossed my path. At the threshold of death, only desolation accompanied me. I can still vividly recall it, as if it were yesterday, my body skeletal, the pain of existing; of being born only to suffer.
All I longed for was the day it would end, the day my body would cease to exist. But then, her presence, like a blessing from the world, manifested before me, dissipating the darkness with her incomparable beauty.
Her figure stood out on the horizon like a dream, a celestial vision amidst my earthly nightmares. It was love at first sight, a glimmer of light on my gloomy path.
I felt my body yearning for her, longing to have her for myself. I found myself immersed in an abyss of devotion and pleasure, where every part of me craved to have her solely for myself.
In the blink of an eye, she became my universe and my reason for being. Her mere presence was like a beacon in the gloom, illuminating the darkest corners of my being.
I delved into her deep gaze, drowning in the intensity of her eyes and the softness of her lips. Every fiber of my being yearned to merge with her in a whirlwind of unbridled passion.
Then there was a clear mission. I followed her, stayed by her side, and hoped to do so beyond eternity. I told myself that I must be her protector: I must become strong, not only to protect her but to be able to possess her.
I was and still am the only one who deserves her, the only one worthy of possessing her body, holding her hands, kissing her lips. I clench my fists, listening to the rain falling, feeling my soul crying for her absence.
"I miss you so much," I whisper in the darkness of my mind, feeling my soul demanding to feel her. It's been four hundred years, four hundred long fucking years.
Four hundred years since that miserable bastard snatched her from my arms.
"Hector..." The name falls from my lips like a curse, squeezing my fists with a wild fury that threatens to consume me entirely.
I can remember it, I can feel the ominous atmosphere, his indifferent words, and his disgusting way of speaking. Just thinking about it makes me want to kill, makes me want to destroy this entire world for taking away what is mine.
My heart shattered as I watched helplessly as life slipped away from her. My hands trembled with fury and pain, unable to stop the cruel dance of fate. I felt the burning rage flood my being, consuming me from within like an infernal fire.
No... I still feel anger.
I feel the need to reach for a drawer in my desk. As Ram leaves, I take the opportunity to admire at my most precious possessions. I pick up a pen, appreciating its beauty with a pleasurable smile as I place it against my cheek.
"Echidna..." I close my eyes, thinking about how good it will feel to give it back to her. I carefully place the pen back in its container, then take a pair of black leather gloves, gloves that I myself gave her back then.
Then, an urgency grows within me.
Slowly, I gaze at them, and just seeing them, my body heats up, my mind expands, and I draw them closer slowly. Almost as slow as the eternity I've waited to see her again.
"Uh..." just by smelling them, I feel like I can feel her. Back then, I used a preservation method she invented; unfortunately, it was a one-time method. I couldn't find the creation method; however, I was able to rescue these exquisite gloves.
They preserve it perfectly: her scent, her sweet and delicate aroma. I can feel her sweat, a floral scent that cleanses my soul. Then my body shivers, starts trembling, craving more and more.
"Delicious..." I take a deep breath, to make myself feel closer to her. My words resonate in the room, like a distorted echo of my own obsession.
I keep smelling, breathing, and feeling like I'm in front of her, like I'm inside her. Like I'm running my hands over her soft cheeks pale as snow, caressing them with admirable devotion, as if trying to absorb her essence through my skin.
Like I'm smelling her white hair, intoxicated by her fragrance, as if each strand were an invitation to lose myself in her world.
Like I'm savoring her delicate neck as if it were the most delicious food in the world, letting my tongue trace circles on her skin, marking my territory of possession.
Like I'm wrapping my hands around her softness, exploring every inch of her body with insatiable eagerness, like a predator stalking its prey.
Like I'm making her tremble with pleasure with every caress, every touch, every whisper laden with promises of eternal love, while her eyes, fixed on mine, reflect a mixture of love and desire.
It's a wonderful game, a macabre dance in which I'm the only one in control, the only one capable of making her fall at my feet. And as I envelop her in my arms, I feel the entire world fading away around us, leaving us alone in our own bubble of love and passion.
"Mmm..." I can hear her sighs, her voice trembling. I can be with her in my mind, I can feel her within me. I close my eyes and dive into the fantasy of having her by my side, of making her mine in every sense of the word.
It's an ecstasy that consumes me, a burning passion that envelops me and transports me to a place where only she and I exist, where desire is the only law that governs our actions.
She's the only trophy I desire, the only thing I need. My love is for her and no one else. An obsession that consumes my days and nights, a burning flame that will never extinguish. Every fiber of my being yearns for her presence, for the touch of her skin against mine, for the union of our bodies in a frenzied dance of passion and desire.
I can feel it as if I were in an illusion. I can feel my hands firmly on her hips, I can feel myself on top of her, possessing her completely while the world is just for the two of us. My senses sharpen, every caress, every kiss, every moan is a symphony of pleasure that intoxicates me and makes me lose track of time and space.
I can see her, feel her, smell her, hear her. Feeling that wave of pleasure just by imagining when I have her in my hands like now.
My hands grip tightly, clinging to the idea of having her forever, of never letting her escape again. The need to have her by my side becomes insatiable, like a hunger that is never satisfied, a thirst that is never quenched.
Just thinking about the possibility of seeing her, of being in my arms and never letting her go again makes these four hundred years feel like an absolute gain. Every day without her is an eternity of agony, a torment that can only be relieved by her presence.
I've spent four hundred years, four long centuries with one desire: To have my beloved, my greatest possession.
To possess her body, to be on top of her and never let her go. My thoughts become more pleasurable, more beautiful as my love intensifies, like a flower blooming in the desert, finding its fullest splendor in adversity.
I pant slowly, carefully setting down the gloves and looking towards the book of wisdom. I clench tightly, anger growing within me, anger towards an ungrateful world that took away the only thing I loved.
Each page of the book is a reminder of my mission, a guide that leads me step by step towards the realization of my deepest desire: to have her back by my side, even if it costs everything else.
I gaze at my hands, stained with my uselessness, the same hands that promised to protect her. Now they are silent witnesses of my failure, of my inability to safeguard her. The gleam in my hands becomes my symbol of loyalty to her, an indelible mark of my devotion.
"I promise I'll make you mine, no matter where I have to go," my voice sounds firm, full of determination. To attain strength, I must walk the path of suffering.
And so, I find myself transformed into a fool, my actions guided by revenge and abandon, leaving behind a trail of destruction.
But even in the darkness, I glimpse a ray of hope on the horizon. A hope fueled by my desire, a hope that propels me forward in my desperate quest to reclaim what was taken from me.
A hope distorted by uncertainty, but a light, nonetheless.
"I have committed irredeemable acts," I tell myself, feeling the weight of my choices in search of a greater purpose. I have sacrificed everything for a goal that now seems elusive. But every sacrifice, every drop of spilled blood, has been a tribute to our forbidden love.
But amidst all the uncertainty, a stranger emerged, guiding me along the right path. The future is uncertain, which is why I long for their guidance, their direction.
I am blinded, deafened, and muted, I am a puppet in this dance, but I accept this role. Because in my desire I find clarity, and in my obsession, I find my true purpose.
I have the book of wisdom, my old guide in my difficult moments. "And yet, I do not control my destiny," I remind myself bitterly, as destiny mocks my efforts. But my will is stronger than any predetermined fate.
I can be used since all I care about is having her in my possession. If the reward for doing as commanded is her, then nothing else matters.
I glance at the reports on the desk, tightening my lips.
"Marco Luz..." fury grows within me. It's his fault, because of him the future is not what I desire. Since his arrival, everything has changed in ways I do not understand.
The wisdom of the true Echidna is vast, but this world is not capable of reaching it, devouring me from within. Every day without her is an endless torment, an agony that consumes me from within.
I feel the door opening, seeing my servant entering.
"Mr. Roswaal, I've brought tea for this chilly day," says Ram, and I smile, silently thanking her. Her presence, though comforting, is nothing more than a shadow of what I truly long for.
"Inde~~ed, it's quite co~~ld today," I reply, staring at her, pondering what to do with her. Initially, I thought I should use her, but slowly she became more irrelevant. Not that I don't care for her, after all, she is my possession.
But I know that even she cannot fill the void her absence left in my soul.
I observe the tray and notice a letter, sealed with a spell. I smile upon seeing it, recognizing that it's time to act. I take the letter and the teacup, marveling at the change in weather. It's been a while since I needed to act. I followed the steps she told me over six months ago.
Gathering mana and activating a weather-changing spell on a larger scale than the one indicated in the book of wisdom. I still don't know the reason, but I truly don't care.
I gaze at the steam rising from the teacup, the leaves dancing with the rain. Every detail of this world is unreal, as if I'm seeing through different eyes. I yearn to reach reality, to reach her world and be able to have her for eternity.
I want to hold her in my arms, kiss her lips, and hear her melodious voice. I want everything from her, and nothing will stop me, no matter the consequences. My desire for her is a burning fire that consumes everything in its path, leaving only ashes in its wake.
I read the letter, seeing that same description again.
"A mistake!" that stranger calls it. His words resonate like an ominous echo in my mind, a warning from the capricious fate.
But I do not fear destiny, I challenge it with every fiber of my being! If I have to destroy this world, I will, if I have to dominate it all, I will too. I feel disgust, I feel hatred for everything around me.
"My heart screams, Everything and everyone beside me is nothing but something that should have never existed!" Desires my heart, wishing to act immediately.
My hands tremble with anxiety, my fingers clench with the contained fury that burns within me. Every breath is like a breath of stale air, tainted with the stench of a reality that repulses me. The room seems to contract around me, as if space itself rejects my presence.
"Mr. Roswaal?" The voice of the pink-haired creature snaps me out of my thoughts. Its eyes gaze at me with that inquisitive look I detest so much, as if they could see through the shadows enveloping my soul.
"Just seeing her makes me nauseous, eager to end this once and for all!" I must be patient; I must maintain composure.
Soon, everything will unfold as planned. All mistakes will be corrected, including the pink mistake in front of me.
This world, everything that exists, is a mistake that must be corrected! Every breath, every heartbeat, is a reminder of my futility, of my condition as an outcast in a universe that neither understands nor accepts me.
But I am not part of this world, I am a force that challenges it from within! I am real, without a doubt, and my will is the only truth that matters!
The letter in my hands hums with ancient energy, a promise of power and redemption that makes me tremble with anticipation. The darkness lurking in the shadows stirs, waiting to be unleashed by my hand.
Every word written in that letter is one step closer to our reunion, one step closer to our eternal union. A smile immediately forms on my face.
There are dark secrets I must uncover, mysteries lurking in the shadows waiting to be unraveled by me. But I am willing to face any danger, any horror, to reach her. Love consumes me, devours me like a voracious fire, but in that abyss of passion, I find my true purpose, my reason for being.
I decide to strengthen myself, to enhance my body and accept all powers that allow me to fulfill my objectives. Every spell I learn, every ritual I perform brings me closer to her, immerses me more deeply in the darkness that is her abode.
"And there is no limit to what I am willing to do for love!" The passion burning in my chest is an insatiable fire that consumes everything in its path, leaving only ashes in its wake.
"I love it, what a beautiful feeling love is," I sigh, smiling at life itself. "My love is so immense that nothing will stop me."
I watch the rain, so delicate and beautiful, sweetening my precious soul. To be with her, I must follow the steps already written. My determination traces each word like a beacon to my destiny. Each word is a vow, a pact sealed with my own blood.
"So it must be," I whisper, though anger twists inside me. But there is no room for hatred in my heart, only space for the burning desire to have her by my side.
I have found a path where my efforts will bear fruit. I will see my beloved, my true beloved, regardless of the obstacles. Because in our love, there are no limits; there are no barriers we cannot overcome.
No matter the years, I will remain unique. The half-devil doesn't know what awaits her, but it will be magnificent. I eagerly await it. Her growth has been bothering me for months, her demeanor has become so annoying to my eyes that it has been difficult to contain my urge to kill her.
She thinks she's independent, but she's just another possession. She believes she can shuffle the cards of the future, but she's just that: a fraud, another error with legs whose insolence knows no bounds.
The only real thing is my love for her, for Echidna, it's a flame that burns brighter with each passing day, consuming everything in its path.
This world is a mistake that I must correct, only then can I travel to the true world where our love will flourish. And there will be nothing and no one to stand in our way.
"I will make you mine, Echidna," I murmur within me, feeling how love consumes me, turning me into a puppet of my admirable desires. I will be a puppet, a puppet who will do as told to fulfill his desire.
My actions may seem irrational to some, but I know that every step I take brings me closer to her, to our shared destiny. I won't let anyone else have you, you will be mine alone, a trophy to my effort.
My hands are stained with blood, but I won't stop until she is by my side. I look around and see that this world is an illusion, a lie that stands between us. Anything that is not her is a deception, a distortion that must disappear so we can be together.
And I am willing to destroy this entire world if it means I will be with her in the end.
Prologue
In Pursuit of Truth.
The rain persists, pounding the ground furiously as the sky weeps our sorrows. We take shelter in a camp, barely protected by tattered tarps that struggle against the onslaught of the weather.
The atmosphere is filled with despair as we continue to tend to the wounded who keep arriving, each with their own burden of pain and suffering. The shadows of the storm surround us, and I observe my hands covered by leather gloves, stained with a dark red that reflects the lives we try to save.
The healers work tirelessly, but I take a brief moment to rest, feeling the weight of fatigue accumulating in every part of my being. The pain is palpable in the air, every heart-wrenching cry and plea for help stabbing like a dagger into my soul, reminding me of the fragility of human existence.
My comrades show terror in their faces, reflecting the horror of what we have endured and what still awaits us. Not all the wounded have physical injuries; some carry deep mental scars, marked by the trauma and horror of battle.
"It hurts!" shouts a man, writhing in pain as the healers struggle to stabilize him.
"My leg! Please!" pleads another amid groans, his voice drowned out by suffering.
The words fade into the air, but their echo resonates in my mind, reminding me of the brutality of war and the sacrifice it entails. Marco explained it to me before: post-traumatic stress, invisible wounds that persist even after the physical ones have healed.
I watch as more wounded arrive in carriages, each one a witness to the brutality of the conflict we are immersed in. Yet, my thoughts stray to Marco, Betty, and Crusch, who have not yet returned.
Uncertainty grips my heart, fearing for their safety.
The rain continues to fall, relentless, like a reflection of our pain and loss. Amidst the darkness and chaos, I feel a deeper shadow looming over us, threatening to engulf us if we do not find light in this endless darkness.
A soldier explained to me that the enemy consumed some kind of crystal before entering that state. It was as if they were possessed by some dark force, something beyond our comprehension.
"It was just like with those I fought."
Several corpses lay twisted on the ground, oozing a black liquid that stained the earth and rotted it.
Feelings overwhelm me. The number of people reported dead keeps rising, and each new report hits my heart hard.
"I... I did not wish for this." I clench my trembling hands, aware that as a leader, I must show strength, even though inside I feel torn apart by pain.
I must act like Marco; I must demonstrate strength so that everyone can find a foothold amidst this tragedy.
I keep healing, trying to maintain composure as chaos surrounds us. Slowly, the wounded begin to diminish, but hours pass by with no news of Marco, Betty, or Crusch.
The storm finally subsides, but no information comes about their whereabouts. The war may have ended, but the silence around us is deafening. Not even in Costuul is there any news. We won the battle, yes, but at a cost too high.
We lost so many people, individuals with dreams and hopes, people who trusted us to protect them. Entire families have been shattered, leaving behind an abyssal void of pain and loss.
"How cruel destiny is!" All of this, for simple interests, for the unchecked ambition of a few.
"Is it my fault?" Once again, those torturous thoughts make their way into my mind, reminding me of the weight of responsibility I carry on my shoulders.
But I cannot allow doubt to consume me. I must remain strong, for them, for those who are no longer here and for those who are still with us.
Chapter 1
What happened?
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and as I turn around, I see Luan, covered in bandages. Her face, though tired, still holds an unwavering determination. She's strong, as well as smart.
Meanwhile, me...
"You should keep resting," I say as I rise to help her sit.
With a slight smile, she remains standing, showing strength in this heart-wrenching disaster.
"As a colonel and strategist, I must stand my ground," she points to Alsten, who is filing reports; he's bandaged up too.
Everyone seems to be doing what they must. Me too, even though it's tough, I strive for the greater good of all. It's my duty, but there's something I feel is amiss.
I force a smile to bolster myself.
"Don't worry, as long as I'm here, I won't let anyone else die," I gently stroke Luan's head and head towards Captain Lucas.
She's still young, subjecting her to such stress isn't healthy. Now, with the captain here, I must be careful about how to proceed. Lucas lost his arm before I arrived; it was crushed and there's no chance of recovery.
My healing magic isn't as effective as Knight Felix's, but there are things I can do.
He looks at me somewhat disheartened, but I maintain my smile, trying to encourage him to make his decision.
"I promise there won't be any complications," I say with a smile that tries to conceal the weight of the situation.
"It's hard to smile." My thoughts can't help but delve into the pain underlying my smile. It's hard to smile when the world seems to be crumbling around you.
Mixing medicine and magic is the only way to perform a body transplant in these conditions. Healing options are limited and reserved for the most severe cases. There's no way to mass-produce potions with Marco's machines, so it all falls on me.
The procedure for the arm transplant involves using the limb of a deceased person that is compatible with theirs. Marco barely taught me about it, unaware of the process, so I've had to experiment on my own.
Lucas looks down, evidently overwhelmed by the situation. After a moment of reflection, he nods.
"I couldn't go on any other way. I agree to the procedure," he says with a trembling voice, his lone hand shaking slightly.
His confirmation fills me with both joy and fear at the same time. I put my hand on his shoulder, making sure he sees mine, and smile with all my might, trying to offer him all my support.
"Then, let's proceed with the transplant," I affirm, calling in a team to assist us.
The healers look visibly exhausted. They all have magical and medical training, but after hours of this, I can see the fatigue on their faces. However, it's our duty to press on, for the sake of all the people who need us.
Two female aides bring in the injured body. They're girls I've worked with quite a bit. Behind them comes my assistant, a demihuman boy who joined the army as part of the healer squad.
I observe the arm, still bloodied. At the moment, there's no way to know if the blood is compatible with the body. Besides, if I recall correctly, that stagnant blood must already be rotting, so it's crucial to act quickly. The structure of both arms is the same; the only noticeable difference at first glance is the skin color, which is slightly darker.
Now, I must drain the blood from the arm to be implanted. My assistant uses water magic and manually adds salt to introduce fluid through the arteries and veins. Slowly, the blood flows outward.
The mages clean the blood, and we quickly extract Lucas's blood. Gradually, we start infusing his blood, and now comes the hardest part. To attach his arm, I must imbue mana little by little.
Now I have to cut part of Lucas's shoulder; without this step, the healing cannot proceed. I'm not a prodigy healer like Felix. I don't have Beatrice's skills. But I have passion; I've learned and strived to learn.
That's why I know everything will be fine. The muscles gradually come together, and the blood flows. Now, all I have to do is continue infusing mana.
Marco mentions that in his world, it can be done without magic, although they are extremely difficult operations. He has told me that they can even be done with hearts.
It is a pity that there was no suitable hand for Otto.
It's incredible and something I would like to witness someday. I guess it's impossible, although maybe... If Marco was brought here, what's to stop me from going there someday?
Marco hasn't shared much about his past; he talks about his world and mentions that it rejected him, but his personal history remains something he keeps hidden.
He shares anecdotes about his parents, but he doesn't reveal more than the fact that they passed away.
Once the skin is joined, I can see the arm. The first thing I do is perform manual movements to check its functionality. Anesthesia is something that doesn't exist, so the only option is to induce sleep and constantly use magic to keep him unconscious.
I must insist on conducting further research on this matter.
With strong individuals, it would be complex, as the more mana they possess or the more trained they are, their bodies can regain consciousness quickly. Pain is also a factor, but healing magic reduces the sensation of pain.
"It's done..." a girl says, murmuring tiredly, falling to the ground after using so much mana.
I take off my mask and give her a big smile.
"Yes!"
In that solemn moment, I spot a figure, swiftly approaching, their hair shining in the light. It's Otto, who comes alongside a woman. His worried look tells me that something bad has happened.
I already suspected it, but I don't want it to be what my heart is screaming.
Once we step away from the camp, Otto begins to explain:
"This girl claims she saw the balloon pass by some time ago," Otto looks at me with concern. "Due to the measures, we implemented, it was difficult for her to leave her home, but at the moment, we are contacting the families."
I try to hide the trembling in my hands and the fear swirling in my heart. I must be strong. My fingers cling tightly to the folds of my jacket, while my mind struggles to maintain composure.
"In which direction did the balloon go?" I ask, keeping up my forced smile so as not to worry her, although inside my heart beats wildly like a frantic drum.
The girl points in the direction of the Elior forest. A chill runs down my spine at the sight, but quickly She change the direction.
"No..." I look up at the sky, seeking answers that don't come, my hands instinctively resting on my chest in an attempt to calm the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me.
"The sanctuary," Otto whispers, his voice heavy with discouragement. The mention of the sanctuary only adds more uncertainty and fear to my already troubled heart.
Despite feeling relieved, it strikes me as odd that they lost control. Marco and Betty can fly, it shouldn't be a problem for them to take Crusch with them.
I feel like an icy claw is squeezing my chest. If something happened to the three of them, if any of them didn't come back... I can't afford to lose more loved ones.
Even though I don't understand. What could have happened? My mind is flooded with a thousand and one possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
"We need to talk to Roswaal." I clench my hands with determination, heading back to the camp with determined steps. If there's anything I can do to help them, I'll do it, no matter what it takes.
"I have to finish healing quickly or I won't be able to go with them," I think to myself. Time is of the essence, and every passing minute increases the anxiety inside me.
I put on my face mask and head towards a wounded person, but before I can approach, one of the healer boys stops me with a concerned gesture.
"Miss Emilia, don't worry, the situation is under control. It's best for you to rest," the boy looks at me worriedly. "We know you've been fighting, and you need to rest."
I look around at the others, who nod and look at me with determined expressions. Despite being tired, everyone seems to care about each other. This is... truly something I've never experienced before.
Since leaving the forest as a child, I never really got to know the world and its people. But now I'm determined.
"I have to go, no matter what."
"Let me go with you," Luan grabs my arm, her gaze fixed on mine with a determination I can't ignore.
"You shouldn't go, you're still recovering," I respond, trying to dissuade her.
She's been pushing her body too hard, but the look she's giving me now doesn't seem like someone who's been fighting.
Her bright red eyes and her hair tipped with red exude an energy that surprises me. It's as if she's enveloped in a warm and fiery aura at the same time.
I sigh resignedly, defeated by her determination.
"Fine, let's go."
A smile of satisfaction appears on Luan's face as we head towards Roswaal's place. In the carriage on the way to the mansion, I notice Otto's unease, he seems nervous.
"You've never talked to Roswaal before?" I ask, intrigued by his odd demeanor.
He seems distracted, as if he's worried about something. Without looking at me, he responds with a trembling voice, "No, never."
Maybe he thinks he's a bitter noble or someone to whom you shouldn't talk.
"He's a bit eccentric; however, he always helps when needed," I try to calm his anxiety, although I'm not really sure who Roswaal really is.
Now that I'm trying to understand people, everything seems so mysterious. But he always helps. No... oddly enough, he has never helped when he's needed the most.
Marco and Roswaal have already argued about it, but it's true that it's always strange. Somehow, he always seems to have his hands tied when it comes to providing support in a crisis. It's weird, but I don't think it's a reason for Marco to dislike him.
Puck also warned me a lot about him. Everyone seems to know something about Roswaal that I don't. It bothers me, but at the same time, I'm afraid of stirring up something that ends in disaster.
As I delve into my thoughts, I feel a growing discomfort. Why does everyone seem to know something that I don't?
My steps become heavier as I get off the carriage, carrying the weight of my worries with every step. The cold evening breeze seems to carry a warning echo, a warning that resonates deep within me.
I look around, observing the trees swaying gently in the wind and the golden rays of the sun filtering through the rain-dampened leaves.
"It's as if nature itself is whispering secrets to me that I can't yet understand," I mutter quietly, feeling anxiety take over me with every beat of my heart.
"Emilia, let's go," Luan's voice interrupts my thoughts, pulling me out of my momentary reverie. The determination in her eyes reflects a resolve that I can't ignore, a determination that makes me doubt my own doubts.
Her words echo in my mind as we approach Roswaal's mansion.
"Should I trust him?" I ask myself once more, feeling the weight of uncertainty growing heavier with each passing second.
The journey through the mansion's long corridors to Roswaal's office stretches out like an endless maze. Every step I take resonates in the oppressive silence that seems to envelop me, as if the walls themselves are whispering secrets that elude my understanding.
But I must press on, I must face whatever awaits me on the other side of that door. I am different from before; I must be strong, keep my composure, and be a wall upon which everyone can rely.
Once I stand before Roswaal's door, I notice Otto is slightly trembling. I place my hand on his shoulder, trying to convey some calm with my gesture, although it's me who desperately needs that calm.
"Everything will be fine, right?" I say with a forced smile, trying to convince myself as much as him.
I open the door and encounter Roswaal, with his characteristic serene smile that never seems to leave him. But I know that behind that smile there is something else, something I can't fully comprehend.
"I su~~ppose it's over," Roswaal smiles as he adjusts some papers, but his tone of voice doesn't inspire confidence in me.
"Yes, but I haven't come for that," I respond with determination, entering his office and mentally preparing myself for what's to come.
I must keep calm, as Marco taught me. But it's difficult when I feel Roswaal's eyes watching me with an unsettling intensity, as if he could see through me and read my deepest thoughts.
"Well~~, what could bring Miss Emilia to my office then?" he asks with curiosity, but his gaze makes me feel uncomfortable, as if he were piercing my soul with just one look.
I begin to explain the situation, trying to maintain composure despite the anxiety consuming me from within. But as I speak, I notice Roswaal's expression subtly changing, as if he were processing information he already knew beforehand.
"I heard that Marco had trouble with the balloon. It's not confirmed, but it's possible it's headed towards the sanctuary," my words seem to spark sudden interest in Roswaal, who reacts almost immediately.
"We sho~~uld head to the sanctu~~ary as soon as po~~ssible," he rises from his chair, directing his gaze towards Ram, who seems to anticipate his orders before he even speaks to them.
Ram nods solemnly and leaves to fetch a carriage, while we prepare to face whatever awaits us at the sanctuary.
The unease stirs in my chest, but I know I must be strong and push forward, no matter the dangers that may await us on our path.
I feel uneasy thinking that Roswaal made that decision so quickly.
"Could it be that he's truly involved in this?" No, I mustn't let those thoughts take shape. He has offered his help unconditionally; distrusting him is something new I'm experiencing.
I wasn't like this before, but also... Someone interrupts my reflections.
"I think it would be practical to go with a squad," Otto speaks up, overcoming his fear. "It may be necessary to ensure our safety."
Roswaal looks at Otto, his smile fades. Now, it feels like something genuinely surprises him. Otto realizes he hasn't introduced himself and bows.
"Treasurer of Irlam, Otto Suwen." Otto gives a formal salute, his legs slightly trembling.
Could he feel as much fear of Roswaal as to make his legs tremble like that?
The atmosphere in the room becomes tense, as if we're on the verge of a conflict. But before I can reflect further, Roswaal speaks with a calm yet slightly grave voice.
"Your proposal is interesting, Otto Suwen." His words resonate in the room, filling it with an air of seriousness. "But at this moment, our priority is to go with Marco and the others. If it's just a squad, there shouldn't be any problems."
Otto nods, visibly relieved that Roswaal has taken his suggestion into account. But in his eyes, I can still see the trace of fear that seems unwilling to disappear.
The conversation continues, but my mind keeps spinning around the suspicion that has taken root in my heart.
I don't know what to think, I don't know if I can fully trust Roswaal. But for now, I must keep my composure and move forward. I can't allow fear to dominate me; I have to be strong for the sake of everyone.
Roswaal approaches Otto, who extends his hand, and Roswaal's smile returns.
Does Otto know something about Roswaal's secret?
"Pleasure to meet you," Roswaal and Otto lock eyes, then Roswaal turns his back.
We step out into the courtyard to wait for Ram, and Otto quickly calls for a squad. Responding to the call, a carriage arrives in a few minutes.
When I meet the captain of the squad, a sense of fear washes over me. He's always been a mysterious figure that gives me bad vibes, although Marco insists he's noble and that the feeling is just a product of my imagination.
"General, Captain Bright at your service," the entire squad salutes and gets ready. I don't understand why Otto requested a squad, but he also seems to be aware of something that escapes my knowledge.
While Luan chats with Otto, I fix my gaze on the sky.
"Puck, I need your strength. I feel like I'm on the verge of falling asleep for a whole month. Everything has been terrible, a disaster."
My hand rests on my face, covering it, as I feel the overwhelming weight upon me. I long to sleep, to lock myself in my room and forget everything that has happened.
I cannot understand how people can be so cruel. I find it hard to understand what drives them to resort to evil. That monster, which being who was once human, ordinary.
On the other hand, the uncertainty about what happened with the balloon consumes me.
As I had thought before, it's unlikely that Marco couldn't control it, especially with full mastery of flight magic. The idea that he ran out of mana is a possibility, but it's incredible considering how cautious he is. Besides, Betty could have intervened.
My thoughts become agitated, and the anxiety within me grows incessantly.
Ram appears with the carriages, and we quickly board. Luan sits beside me, her warm aura calming my heart a little. I know she holds Marco in high regard, and he almost considers her part of his family.
Luan has told me that she sees him as an older brother, and that comforts me immensely.
Marco is truly a fool, always going out of his way to take care of people he sees in loneliness, striving to pull them out and give them purpose. He did it with me, with Rem, with Betty, with Luan.
Otto also seems to receive his help. Even in the village, always in his free time, he especially cares for young people in situations of abandonment.
That's something I like about him.
I smile, taking advantage of the fact that there's no one from the army around to pat Luan's head.
"Miss Emilia?" she asks, visibly surprised.
With a smile, I try to make her feel more secure.
"Don't worry, the three of them will be fine, and even if they're not," I look at her with determination, "as long as I'm here, I'll be able to heal them."
Luan smiles and nods. She's a girl who forces herself to be strong, but in the end, she's still a child.
"Hehe, it seems like I'm starting to think like Marco."
Roswaal hands me a necklace, saying that I should keep it on at all times. It looks like a pyroxene crystal. It's curious, but it doesn't seem dangerous.
"You'll fe~~el a shock in your bo~~dy, in the worst case, you'll fa~~int; it will only be momenta~~ry."
I nod, and in an instant, I feel like something wants to escape from me. My vision blurs, and I feel like I'm about to faint, but in an instant, the sensation turns into a painful nuisance.
Somehow, I'm aware.
I feel a warm sensation coming from my right hand, and upon looking at it, I notice that Luan is gripping it tightly while seeming to suffer a similar pain. Her warmth seeps into my body, and I quickly manage to calm down.
Luan mentions that she felt something too. This surprises me, and Roswaal is the first to speak.
"Interesting," Roswaal's gaze pierces through Luan, whose hair begins to glow with an intense red.
The heat intensifies, and Roswaal uses his mana to soothe the sensation. Luan's hair quickly returns to its natural white, and she starts to pant tiredly.
"I don't understand what happened," Luan says, her eyes shining brightly.
"It's the ba~~rrier, a barrier that pre~~vents the demihu~~mans living here from esca~~ping."
Luan looks at Roswaal in surprise, but quickly calms down.
"That means I..." Luan seems surprised, however, at this moment, I must focus on what lies ahead.
"We'll figure out what's going on, but first, we must concentrate on what's to come," I look at Luan with a confident smile, reassuring her. Yes, now we must find out if the three of them are here.
The carriage stops, and the first person I see is a young boy. His sharp teeth and spiky golden hair bring back memories of someone.
Quickly, I walk toward him, taking his hands.
"Are you Frederica's brother?" I ask, causing him to look visibly surprised. "You're Garfield, right?"
"Who the heck are ya?" He steps back, so I realize I got a little too excited.
With a smile, I put my hand on my chest.
"Emilia, candidate for the throne." I look at Garfield confidently, and he seems a bit overwhelmed by the situation.
Then, I notice the little person beside him, a girl who looks like an elf. Her gaze seems tired, but her health doesn't seem to be the issue.
"Wow, what an energetic person we have here. I guess you're here for the people Garbo found."
I widen my eyes, feeling like my heart is about to burst out of my chest.
"Indeed," Roswaal steps out of the carriage, and Garfield looks at him with some annoyance. "We want to see him."
She smiles and leads us to a house. My heart keeps pounding hard, not knowing what we're going to find. She opens the door, and then I see them.
Covered in wounds, blood on the bed, and an ominous feeling.
However, what worries me the most is that someone's missing, someone I don't sense anywhere.
"Betty?"