Our Will
The soldiers on the wall look up in astonishment, shielding their eyes from the sun to make out the hot air balloon. Many people start pouring out from behind the walls, eager to see the sight. Our arrival had been announced in the newspaper, all for this very moment.
Emilia gazes in awe and excitement, and with good reason—it's the first time her name has been cheered outside of Irlam.
"Candidate Emilia is coming with the Hero!" they shout at the top of their lungs. The excitement grows with each passing second, their expressions filled with joy becoming clearer, and for the first time, I see genuine faces.
Unlike the encounter with the whale, this time they're supporting us for who we are, for what we've achieved. The deep-seated racism isn't broken yet, but it's a step forward.
Emilia's eyes shine with excitement.
She, on the verge of tears, can only cover her mouth.
"Look, Marco, they're saying my name..." Her voice trembles, overflowing with happiness and emotion.
I sigh, knowing it's one of her dreams finally coming true.
"Don't get tired, because from now on, your name will echo throughout the world, my queen." I open the hatch door, bowing and taking her hand to help her down.
The soldiers keep people from getting too close, but everyone's so thrilled that I doubt anyone would try anything.
There are many reasons for these reactions. From the way they're dressed, it's clear these people have been supported through the Brotherhood Guild. Naturally, this entrance was planned; we'd be fools not to use this opportunity to campaign.
'Though, this is a secret from Emilia.'
Clothing, food, jobs, medical and financial assistance were all provided to these people. At first, I wanted to use this for gaining power, taking advantage of the aid as a campaign move, but the person next to me almost broke my face.
'My help comes because I want to, not because I need their help.'
I didn't completely agree, but I had to accept it. Clientelism is a common practice in my world, but I've never thought it was entirely bad. You offer assistance and share your government plan. I know it can be exploited for evil, but as long as no citizen is forced, I don't see the issue.
"Queen Emilia! Queen Emilia!" they shout, coming closer and closer.
Emilia waves enthusiastically, extending her hand and smiling from ear to ear.
"Don't get too close! It's dangerous!" the soldier's yell.
Even if we wanted everyone to approach, it's better not to allow it. At this moment, we don't know who our enemy might be. Among these faces full of excitement, there could be an assassin ready to give up their life to kill.
Several kingdom soldiers start arriving, pushing the crowd back and guiding us to our carriage.
"A few words! Queen Emilia, a few words!" they all exclaim, and Emilia takes my hand.
I smile, because this is exactly what I wanted.
While I knew they'd welcome Emilia, I didn't expect such acceptance from the people in the lower districts. They've received aid from us, but I never thought they'd be this grateful.
With a single leap, both of us climb onto the roof of the carriage, where I see even more people gathered. The last time I felt this was when we went to Irlam after fighting the whale.
I thought I'd grown accustomed to these events, but even now, I feel that thrill.
Emilia places her hand on her chest, looking at everyone with seriousness.
"We will fight! We will fight against injustice! Against hunger and evil!" She extends her hand, clenching her fist. "We'll fight for a fair kingdom, one filled with opportunities for everyone!"
"WOOOO!" The crowd roars in unison, their voices vibrating through my body.
The people thank Emilia because she's the one who came to help them. She decided on her own to visit every few weeks, to check on them and offer her medical services for free.
Emilia must be feeling on top of the world right now.
We return inside the carriage.
The carriage starts to move slowly, keeping pace with the crowd. This situation will serve as a different kind of warning. While the other candidates gain the support of high society, we win over the will of the lower classes.
That's not always a good thing, but as long as we play it right, we can use it to our advantage.
"GET OUT!" we hear, as several demihumans start emerging from their homes. "MURDERERS!"
The consequences of war are evident, and even though all these people initially supported us, nothing guaranteed it would last forever. Minds are fickle when knowledge is lacking.
But it doesn't bother me.
"See? These are the people we need to win back to our side." Emilia nods at my words, and she simply waits.
The carriage comes to an abrupt halt, and Emilia and I look on in surprise. The carriage door opens swiftly, revealing Captain Bright.
"Mr. Mayor, my apologies! There's a multitude of protesters in the square," Bright says with a serious expression, and we decide to step out of the carriage.
Emilia looks cautiously around, while I stay by her side. This is a test for her; as a ruler, she must be able to handle these situations on her own. The fact that this happened is a good thing; it'll help her grow.
"You've got this. It doesn't have to be perfect, but you have to do it," I say, my tone matching the gravity of the moment.
"Murderers! You killed my father!"
The shouts are mixed, and it seems there are many people from Costuul. Our arrival was announced by the newspaper, so I expected some trouble. However, there are way more people than usual here.
My eyes widen as I grasp the situation.
"Harald..." The only explanation for this is that Harald brought these people here—relatives of those imprisoned, to create chaos.
I expected it, but not to this extent.
The knights begin approaching the protesters, trying to keep them away without resorting to violence. Causing a commotion in the capital would be disastrous for our image, so we need to turn this situation around.
Emilia starts running, and with a leap, positions herself on top of the water fountain, creating an ice flower that lifts her even higher. Now in the center of everyone, people abandon their pursuit of the carriage and gather around the fountain.
"WITCH! Half-devil!"
The shouts are harsh words Emilia has heard hundreds of times. She looks at them all, and her pained expression tells me something.
It's not the words that hurt her; it's the fact that these people have lost their families.
To be honest, I'm furious. While I understand their situation, I'm still angry. The war was decided by those in power. If they lost loved ones, they should blame Harald, the one who started this war with his attempts to bring down Irlam.
'I'd love to punch these people, but I need to be empathetic with their situation too.'
"Let's break some heads, General!" Garfield cracks his knuckles beside me, and I nod in agreement.
This kid gets me.
"Unfortunately, we can't." I clench my fists, and Crusch stands by my side.
"Yeah, neither of us can." She doesn't seem happy about it either, but there's not much we can do. "These people are just being manipulated by the pain of their loss. We should be more understanding."
I cross my arms, looking away. "Still, they know it's not our fault. They just see us as an easy target."
People, even when they act stupidly, never fail to follow their instincts. It's easier to criticize those who are trying to rise as pacifists than a duke who has the power to legally crush them all.
That's how people are, and Harald exploited it to his advantage.
Lessed and Arne watch the situation unfold without intervening. Both fought hard during the war but chose to stay with us. From our elite squad, only Lucas and Luan are missing.
Lucas took some leave to spend time with his family and recover.
"It pisses me off how they speak to our queen," Lessed grumbles, clenching his fists, his enormous muscles threatening to tear through his military uniform. "If only they knew the truth."
"I agree. The horrors we witnessed aren't justifiable, much less to be exploited like they're doing now." Arne, who usually keeps quiet, looks just as pissed off.
Arne is a highly capable and intelligent fighter. In terms of combat, he could be compared to Lucas, but his true strength lies in his mastery of earth magic. After studying, he managed to integrate earth magic with a more effective technique.
That means his power now isn't just about manipulating the earth.
Every member of the elite soldiers excels in a specific field, making each one an outstanding fighter in their area.
That includes Alsten, probably the strongest of them all.
I turn my head to see Alsten just watching over the carriage where Erick is. His gaze sweeps over everyone moving around, but he looks... irritated.
"Seems like something's bothering him," Lessed mutters quietly, crossing his arms. "Colonel Alsten doesn't seem so happy about the knights."
That phrase reminds me of when I appointed him as colonel. When I emphasized that it would be an organization separate from the knights, he said this:
'I'd rather be a prisoner than a knight.'
"I see." I stroke my chin, focusing my attention on Emilia. As long as he stays professional, I don't mind his hatred for the knights, but I'll need to dig deeper to help him if necessary.
"People of Lugunica!" Emilia's aura cuts through all the shouting.
The crowd freezes: the moment Emilia speaks; everyone shuts up and stares at her. A chill runs down my spine, and I realize her presence is like a magnet, drawing attention and silencing the chaos.
The human body knows when a threat surpasses its own power. Like prey in the face of an overwhelming predator, the instinctive reaction is to stay still.
But we're not animals.
"Are you trying to threaten us?!" a demihuman yells, throwing a wooden banner at Emilia. His face, lined with wrinkles and shadows, reflects a mix of defiance and fear.
The best way to avoid violence and prevent harm was to stop them by showing they need to listen. Emilia tried to be gentle while showing respect, but these people are blinded by hatred.
That's why they can't read body language.
"ENOUGH!" Emilia's shout makes everyone step back. She catches the banner and holds it up. "No more massacres of demihumans," the words on the banner are clear. "For years, we've lived in isolation. For years, as an elf, I've endured inequality and the hatred of both demihumans and humans."
Her face is calm, her voice relaxed. It's almost like she's connecting with everyone, sharing their pain, their hatred.
"War is a pain that will remain in my heart forever." She places her hands on her chest. "I know my appearance is hated. I know my mere presence reminds people of past tragedies, tragedies that linger in everyone's hearts."
I approach the crowd, and the air thickens with the hateful stares, all aimed at Emilia. Among them, mothers hold their children in their arms; some protect infants between them. Every one of these people has lost a loved one.
Despite that tragic fate, a man in a suit manipulated their emotions for his own gain.
"I understand what you're saying, I know that our decisions caused the death of your loved ones," Emilia says, her hands trembling. Even though tears threaten to fall, she maintains a firm expression. "I can't make up for what happened, because life is priceless."
The crowd's gazes grow heavier. On their faces, I see the recognition of a bitter truth: nothing they do will change what's already happened. Among them, there are people who stole just to survive, others who made mistakes driven by poor decisions.
People who deserved a second chance.
"Those who died also deserved a new opportunity. But because of a few, that chance is gone."
What I admire most about Emilia is her ability to empathize even with those who hate her. She doesn't just understand their pain; she feels it deeply. That kindness is what allows her to connect with others, even in the middle of this chaos.
"First, although I don't deserve it, I ask for your attention," she says, closing her eyes as the spirits begin to glow with a bluish light that fills the area. "Let's take a moment of silence for your loved ones."
An unexpected warmth spreads through the square. People start sobbing; children cry in their mothers' arms, while the women stroke their heads with a serene strength.
A single prayer, just one prayer, has unleashed all of this.
'If it's war they want, war is what they'll get.'
I can't say it was a mistake. If we hadn't gone to war, Irlam would have been annihilated. I don't regret fighting, but that doesn't mean my decision isn't weighed down by its own burden of pain.
Emilia clenches her hands tightly. People watch her in astonishment, observing as a few tears slip down her face. Slowly, she steps down from the ice flower she was standing on until her feet touch the water of the fountain.
"Thank you for your attention," she says, her eyes still filled with sadness, yet maintaining her composure. "Now, I'd like to say a few words."
Silence falls. The only sound is the soft sobbing of those around us, while even the ones previously busy with their affairs pause to listen. I turn my head and notice that everything has come to a halt, as if time itself has decided to pay attention to her.
I smile with pride, seeing how her words manage to touch the hearts of everyone listening. It was the same in Irlam. Emilia's determination to protect people, even when they've belittled, insulted, or rejected her, always shines through.
"I can't bring the dead back to life, but I can show you the truth," Emilia declares, clenching her fist as she points to the sky. "I won't let the guilty go unpunished. I won't allow more chances to be stolen from us."
Suddenly, she points at me, and all eyes turn in my direction. I can see the pain and resentment in their gaze—it was me who chose to wage this war.
"He is Marco Luz, the mayor of Irlam, a man who genuinely cares about the well-being of his people," Emilia announces firmly, but the crowd's stares remain full of hatred, now aimed at me.
The weight of their suffering is undeniable. I can feel their judgment pressing down on my shoulders, but I can't back down.
"I offer you my sincerest apologies," I say, bowing to acknowledge their pain. "However, I acted with the intention of protecting the lives of my citizens. I understand the suffering this has caused, and I want to do everything in my power to ease it."
I straighten up, letting the determination show in my eyes.
"In Irlam, we will establish a center to support those displaced by the war, and based on your needs, different forms of assistance will be provided," I explain, extending my hand toward them. "It was Emilia, the candidate for the throne, who insisted that I offer you this help."
Their gazes remain hard, but I try to convey calmness, hoping to ease some of their distress.
"Duke Harald Costuul will soon pay for his crimes. He'll face the justice he deserves for what happened during the war. We'll reveal the truth about what happened," I continue, recalling the desolate bodies and the dark mass that consumed everything. "We will seek justice, not just for the dead, but for the living as well. In one week, you can come to the ministry, where I will personally receive you. If Costuul doesn't fulfill his responsibility, Irlam will."
The crowd remains silent, still trapped in their pain. I know that Harald hasn't hesitated to manipulate their emotions, feeding their hatred to blind them from the truth.
Still, these people, even if they're just a fraction of the thousands who have suffered, deserve the same care and attention. As a governor, I also have a human responsibility toward them. They are merely victims of those in power.
But it's Emilia who's begun to tear down that wall of hatred. Although I know that many won't be satisfied, at least we've planted a small seed of peace in their hearts.
"We will win this trial, no matter what the cost, and we will prove our innocence," Emilia states, walking steadily through the crowd, which parts to let her pass. "I will become a ruler who prevents such tragedies from happening again, for both humans and demi-humans. All lives have equal value!"
After those words, the crowd doesn't respond immediately. Some people begin to disperse, calling out to one another. I can see that doubt has been sown in their eyes. And even though it's not the certainty we were hoping for, that doubt will lead them to make a decision.
We walk toward the carriage as the crowd parts for us. When we arrive, Emilia lets out a sigh.
"Phew..." She turns her head to look at me with a somewhat awkward smile. "Honestly, I thought someone might attack me while I was walking back. I was nervous."
"Seems like everyone was too caught up in your words."
"It was amazing how you managed to silence them all," Lessed is the first to react, looking at Emilia with excitement. "It reminded me of when we were at the royal selection—it gave me chills."
We all start laughing at Lessed's enthusiasm.
"Those were good words," Crusch says, placing a hand on Emilia's shoulder. "It was pretty impressive."
"Thanks. It's partly because of you that I can speak like this." Emilia smiles, and Crusch returns the gesture.
"Hmph! We shoulda just punched some faces," Garfield huffs, looking away as if reconsidering his words.
With that little exchange, we continue on our way to Roswaal's old mansion in the capital.
Old, because now it belongs to me.
When we arrive, I see we're greeted by about half the servants from before.
I expected this, but I'm glad at least half of them chose to stay. My initial plan was to dismiss everyone, but we'll take advantage of Crusch's blessing to find out if any of them are spies for Roswaal.
This way, they won't lose their jobs, and we can clear up any doubts.
Erick is escorted by the soldiers. He'll get to rest today, as they've been instructed to keep watch all night so he can sleep without worries. Meanwhile, I meet with Crusch and the twelve remaining servants, ready for a little chat.
Each of them looks immaculate, radiating an air of sophistication, but I notice a slight nervousness on their faces, as if they're afraid I might harm them.
I don't think Roswaal killed any of them, but I need to find out if those who left did so willingly... or if they were eliminated.
"Roswaal L. Mathers has abandoned us," I begin, my voice firm but calm. "Not only that, as you saw when he visited this mansion, he doesn't seem to be in his right mind." I recall when Roswaal visited all the mansions looking for something, something I discovered thanks to the note Annerose left before disappearing from the Miload mansion. "I want you to tell me, honestly, did the other servants leave of their own will, or did Roswaal intervene?"
Their expressions fill with unease. Something isn't as simple as it seems, as they remain silent for a few moments, just like the servants at the Miload mansion.
After stabilizing us, Emilia went to rescue Annerose, but when she arrived, there was nothing left. The books were destroyed, the plans burned, and many servants had disappeared.
Emilia searched for traces of blood but found nothing, not even the spirits could help. It took Frederica a whole day to calm her down, assuring her that Roswaal wouldn't harm Annerose, at least not yet, since she's too young to be of any use to him.
A demi-human servant, a young man who seems new, breaks the silence. His eyes, sharp like a cat's, his ears, and his retracted tail reveal that he's scared. He clasps his hands, struggling not to speak.
"You can say it," a maid beside him intervenes, taking his hand with a calm look and a smile that gives him strength. The young man begins to cry but then nods, wiping his tears.
"For the past few months, all the servants have admired you, Mr. Marco," he begins with a trembling voice, but it's full of determination. "Our loyalty was always with Mr. Roswaal, but we started to admire your actions and those of Miss Emilia." The boy smiles shyly, intertwining his fingers. "You managed to create a city free of racism in a kingdom that has been racist for centuries, and not only that, but you did also it in an astonishingly short time."
His testimony fills me with a mix of relief and responsibility. These servants have seen something beyond fear and chaos, something that inspired them to stay.
Anyone who commits an act of racism is subjected to a trial. If they pass, they're sent to work in the mines. However, not every act is considered racist, not even the simple fact of hating demihumans.
Each person has the right to hate whoever they want, but not to express that hatred in a way that affects others.
"That, along with the help they've given us, the new tools, and the financial support we received," the young man smiles, looking at me with gratitude. "All of that gave us the strength to fight against injustice."
Suddenly, his expression changes, his hands start trembling, and his lips tighten.
"When Lord Roswaal came, we were excited, we served him as always. But my superiors said something..." His voice becomes more serious, and I notice the servants around us tensing up immediately. "Lord Roswaal wasn't in his right mind."
The boy can't hold back his tears and breaks down crying. The maid beside him, a human woman with a warm appearance and serene expression, embraces him. She, too, begins to cry, and in that moment, I understand the gravity of what happened.
"I'm so sorry." I bow, lips pressed together. "I should've been more considerate. My sincerest apologies."
"No!" A tall man, with an elegant demeanor and firm gaze, grabs my shoulders, stopping me from bowing any further. "Forgive my boldness, but we don't want to see our hero apologizing."
'Hero?' The way they look at me, the respect in their gestures, makes me realize their words are sincere. Even if Crusch won't confirm it, I know these feelings are real.
The suffering these people have endured pains me deeply. They've suffered under the yoke of a madman with power.
"As the future owner of these lands and the next marquis, it's my duty to protect you and make sure you smile again." I speak with determination. "Roswaal has given me all his properties, so you no longer need to fear him. I'll protect you with all my power."
These people weren't close to me; I didn't even take the time to get to know them when I arrived. But somehow, they've kept in their hearts something of what we've done together.
"Roswaal came with Mr. Clint. They both seemed to be looking for something," began the man who stopped me earlier. "They opened a secret door, but one of our servants followed them by accident." He looks down, his white mustache trembling as he presses his lips together. "Afterward, they gathered all of us."
Roswaal seems to have left pieces of something in every mansion he visited. This leads me to think it must be some kind of device or metia; I don't think it's just money since that's well protected in another place.
Whatever Roswaal's purpose was, it has cost lives.
"They killed those closest to the lord and left me alive just to tell you," The man beside me whispers. "Fate will bring us together again sooner than you think—those were his words."
I embrace him, trying to offer some comfort.
"My wife..." he murmurs before collapsing to his knees.
The senseless death fills me with rage. All of this happened just because of my mere existence. I know it. They died to try to break my mind and those around me. These people have suffered simply for being here.
It's incredibly unfair.
'It's so stupid.'
But I can't stop. I have to keep fighting and change this world. It's the instability that has caused all this corruption.
Let's bring chaos.
And with chaos, hope, because in chaos, anything is possible.
"I'll make him pay, I promise you," I say, with barely contained fury.
Crusch places a hand on my shoulder, looking at me with concern.
"Don't make that face, you have to be strong."
...
'Am I making a bad face?'
A deep thump resonates in my chest, like a silent warning that leaves me breathless. The hatred has escaped, and I've let my darkest thoughts take over, distorting my judgment.
Still, I have to keep going.
I grip the shoulders of the man in front of me, who can barely contain his tears, just like me.
"I can't recover what's lost; it's too late," I admit, my voice tinged with raw reality.
"But I can prevent it from happening again." I look at them all with determination, so I hope not to fail them this time. Crusch, at my side, helps the man stand while my words find their echo in the hearts of those around me.
"Once the trial is over, I ask all of you to head to Irlam." I pause, observing Crusch's reaction, clearly surprised by my proposal. "To make sure this tragedy isn't repeated, all servants will receive training in handling weapons."
"Those who wish to stop being servants and have lost a loved one will receive a monthly salary without the need to work for six years," I add, looking at each of them seriously. "We will provide you with a home and the chance to live a different life."
Weapons aren't a perfect solution. Some enemies might be too strong, but if we train everyone, any small chance of survival will be worth it.
The servants look at each other, their faces still marked by tears. Slowly, they rise, and with renewed firmness, they bow before me.
"We will follow the orders of Count Marco and General Crusch," they respond in unison, their voices charged with conviction.
As I watch them leave, I think about what I must do. 'I need to visit the secret mansion, the one near the mines in the desert.'
"You may go," I say aloud, and one by one, they walk away to resume their tasks.
With the servants gone, Crusch and I take a seat. We look at each other in silence, no words needed. In her amber eyes, always full of determination, I see a spark of fire, that internal flame that burns brightly.
"Was he always a monster, or did they turn him into one?" she asks directly, without hesitation. "I never saw any of this in him."
Roswaal's facade has always been flawless, but it hides a truth many don't see.
"Roswaal L. Mathers was always a monster." My words are resolute. "He's not someone you smile at or trust with anything. He killed and sacrificed his own generation to take their souls. He doesn't care about human life, only his own goal."
Just the thought that I somehow share something in common with him fills me with disgust.
"Thank you for not showing that side of yourself to those who expected to see you strong," Crusch says, moving closer. She wraps her arms around me, resting my head on her shoulder, a comforting gesture I wasn't expecting.
"Crusch..." I murmur, a bit taken aback by her warmth.
"Whatever you plan to do, try not to get hurt too much. You always end up injured when something happens," she says, with a small smile meant to give me strength.
"You and Emilia said the same thing," I reply, managing a weak smile. "You're both right. But still, I'll probably end up hurting again, especially now. That's why I need you to protect me."
Crusch returns my smile, and for a moment, I feel like I can face anything.
"Do what you have to, just don't die," she tells me, her tone a mix of firmness and concern.
"I'll try," I respond, knowing the risk is inevitable.
I head to the mansion's office. When I arrive, I find it practically empty, with just a few scattered books. I sit down, taking a piece of paper and a quill. The air is thick with tension, but my thoughts are focused on what's to come.
I open the Metia, and Miklotov appears instantly, his face impassive.
"You seem to have improved quite a bit. I'm glad," he says, although his expression remains strangely neutral, not revealing much of what he truly feels. The slight arching of his eyebrows is the only hint that something has changed.
'Something's happened,' I think.
"The trial is already set. Your arrival was reported, and they're preparing everything to begin before nightfall. We expect to conclude it by morning," he informs me precisely. "The problem is what you'll have to endure."
In this world, trials don't drag on. Decisions are made quickly, based on the evidence available. It's not a bad system, but it doesn't favor us entirely.
"I understand. Did you do what I asked?" I ask with some tension, though I know I can trust him.
Miklotov gives a slight smile.
"They should be arriving at the mansion right now," he replies, and his confidence reassures me.
The plans need to be executed perfectly, which is why I chose the right people. Suddenly, I hear voices coming from the hall. Emilia sounds excited, meaning they've already arrived.
"I'm going to greet them. We'll see each other soon," I tell him, staring at him intently. "Take care of yourself, Miklotov. I wouldn't want them conspiring against you."
Miklotov sincerely worries me. I know his ambitions are great, even greater than mine. He's a man who has sacrificed everything for the kingdom, and I fear he might be planning something beyond what I can see. I worry about his safety.
He narrows his eyes, analyzing me as if he's seeing another person.
"Young people shouldn't worry about the old," he says, with a faint smile. "It's our duty to protect your generation."
"On the contrary, it's the duty of the young to protect the elderly," I reply seriously, closing the Metia. "I need to get him an estate for his retirement."
I stand up and walk to the window, gazing out at the capital. From here, the houses look small, a view that, while not as majestic as the palace, is still moving.
"Roswaal..." I sigh as I leave the office. "Natsuki Subaru..."
They're both playing with my Return by Death, using it to correct their mistakes. But the problem is, I only have one more attempt left before I lose it completely. My power is limited, and if I exhaust it, I'll lose my only way back.
I didn't want to use it; I feared it would damage my mind.
However, I must accept the power given to me. I just need to establish rules to avoid going mad.
As I walk through the mansion's corridors, a servant accompanies me, guiding me toward the room where laughter and giggles are coming from. When we arrive, he opens the door and bows.
"Good morning," I greet with a wide smile at the people inside.
I was expecting only two guests, but it seems someone else has joined.
"Wow! You look more muscular than the last time I saw you! Looks like they've been feeding you well! HAHAHA!" Rom bursts into loud laughter, and I can't help but feel happy to see him so lively.
'He's in good shape,' I think, relieved.
"You look younger, old man," I joke as I approach and bump my fist against his.
"I'm in the prime of my youth!" he replies, with the same energy as always, and his laughter fills the room.
We fist-bump enthusiastically, happy to see each other again. I wasn't expecting him to come, but I'm glad he did.
"Don't forget about this lady!" Felt shouts.
"Ugh!"
Before I can react, a kick from Felt makes me step back. She's visibly upset about being ignored. Holding her voluminous skirt with one hand, and seeing her so seriously, I can't help but laugh.
"Ha! You look like a doll."
"Who are you calling a doll?!" Felt tries to catch me, but I grab her hands before she can. "You think you're so smart just because you've fought a few monsters!"
I grin smugly, a smile that makes my victory clear.
"At least I don't dress like a doll."
"I'm gonna smash your face in!" Felt yells, throwing a kick in my direction. But before she can reach me, a hand stops her foot in midair.
It's Reinhard, the kingdom's strongest knight, who effortlessly stopped the attack. Felt wobbles as her foot slips out of her heel, and she falls to the floor.
"Miss Felt, you must show the proper courtesy for someone of your rank," Reinhard says elegantly as he kneels down and puts her heel back on.
"Mr. Marco..." she begins to say, but before she can continue, a familiar voice interrupts.
"Marco!" Emilia runs over and grabs my ear.
"Ow! Emilia!" I struggle to break free from her grip, but with her strength, it's impossible. "Okay, okay, I'm stopping!"
With a mock look of indignation, Emilia lets me go and turns her back on me.
"Hmph!" She crosses her arms, but it's not long before everyone in the room starts laughing. Even Reinhard, always so serious, shows a faint smile.
"It's a relief to see everyone is okay," I say as I slump onto the couch and gesture for the others to sit. "Honestly, I didn't want to get you all involved, but I think I owe you an explanation."
They gather around me, and everyone's expressions quickly turn serious. Reinhard's gaze is particularly intense, as if he has something to say. Emilia sits beside me with a calm smile on her face. She already knows a bit about the situation, but it's better to clear everything up in this meeting.
"As Miklotov mentioned, this is about Felt's origin."