"Can you take me there now, if possible?" he asked. "But… it would be best to go without alerting anyone. So probably no dragon carriage."
While the Witch Cult was a secretive organization, they had many followers—as well as spies. This was evident during the Sloth Subjugation: they had laid explosive traps along the fleeing route of Arlam Village after receiving intel about the evacuation.
While no one in this mansion was probably a spy, there were undoubtedly people on both sides keeping tabs on the Sword Saint. Her strength would be seen as a major liability.
"How long would it take to reach Flanders on foot?"
Looking at him like a teacher would a student who just got the answer painfully wrong, Rei responded slowly, clearly emphasizing her words:
"On foot... would take over three days. That wouldn't be possible."
She added, "A dragon carriage, assuming no rest and no problems, could arrive within two to three hours."
"Do you have a way to get there without alerting anyone?" he asked.
A smirk tugged at her lips—one that only grew as she spoke.
"If I was going alone, and wasn't worried about injuring or alerting anyone, I could arrive within five seconds."
She paused before continuing:
"But… if I have to be stealthy and not alert others—about ten minutes. Now, if I have to carry you, and we're moving at a speed that won't harm you while maintaining stealth..."
She tilted her head slightly, her grin turning more sadistic as her voice dropped to a gentle tone:
"About forty-five minutes."
Doing the mental math in his head, a dragon carriage around 60 MPH assuming 2 hours and 30 minutes would be 150 miles divided by 45 would be 200 miles per hour for that long!
"Wait—carrying me?" Toyota stammered. "I don't think this is a good idea."
Tilting her head mockingly, her grin now sharper, she asked with faux innocence:
"What do you propose we do instead?"
Toyota's mouth twitched. He couldn't say anything.
***
Roswaal L. Mathers sat alone in the heart of his candlelit study, a room steeped in the scent of old parchment, ink, and wax. The thick, black leather-bound book before him—the Tome of Wisdom—lay open on his desk, its centuries-old pages fluttering faintly from the breeze through an open window.
His mismatched yellow and blue eyes, like his painted face, traced the lines with burning intensity. Each word, each sentence etched into those pages, was a fragment of absolute truth. A blueprint of inevitability. His beloved teacher's legacy. His sacred gospel.
And yet—for the first time in decades… no, centuries—the book brought him no comfort.
Something was wrong.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers under his chin. The painted smile, so often curled with amusement, had faded. His expression still.
Beatrice had made a contract.
That alone cracked the firm foundation of his expectations. He had always known it would happen someday, of course—but not like this. Not so suddenly.
He hadn't foreseen it.
It wasn't in the Tome.
How could that be?
Beatrice—the artificial Great Spirit, created by Echidna—was never meant to reach a conclusion of her own. Not until she had fully let go of her life. Her 400-year vigil was engineered to cultivate doubt, to erode decisiveness. Roswaal knew the reason for her peculiar speech—always ending her thoughts with "I suppose." It was a psychological crutch, an anchor forged from endless indecision. She had lived too long in hesitation to ever choose.
Yet she chose someone.
She chose Subaru Natsuki.
Of all people. That absurd, reckless, unpredictable boy. A fool—yet one with astonishing timing. Perhaps the one they needed. But still… this was anomalous. It was as though some unseen variable had entered the equation and was shifting the once-straight path Roswaal had crafted.
The Tome remained silent on the matter.
His eyes narrowed.
Had something been altered?
Or—was his teacher wrong?
He flinched at the thought.
Blasphemy.
He shut his eyes tightly, ashamed.
No.
Of course not. His teacher had never been wrong. The mistake must be his—some failure on his part, some variable he hadn't accounted for.
His mind drifted, and a name surfaced:
Toyota.
The boy who should not exist.
An anomaly. Like Subaru, he was absent from the Tome. An impossible blank space.
And now, that same boy had gone to one of the Astrea residences in the capital.
Reinhard? Perhaps. The Sword Saint?
Roswaal's lips curled downward. From his emerald ring—one of a pair—he could track Toyota's position through a magic he had only recently developed. A sophisticated spell of spatial magnetism. If he held the matching ring above his specialized map of Lugnica, it would gravitate to the wearer's exact location, drawing itself like a magnet to metal.
And right now…
The marker wasn't moving.
Toyota was motionless.
As if waiting.
Roswaal's gloved fingers tightened around the window frame. Had someone moved already? Had one of the other camps recognized Toyota's value and secured him? Could the Sword Saint, in her moronic nobility, have unknowingly sheltered someone who could shift the balance of everything?
No. The Sword Saint was too straightforward. She lacked the subtlety required to play the long game. If this was a trap, it wasn't her doing.
But if Toyota had been taken by another faction—especially one with foresight—then Roswaal's carefully laid plans were in jeopardy.
And the consequences of that…
were unacceptable.
He turned back to the Tome, his mismatched eyes gleaming with cold determination.
"If talent falls into the wrong hands… then it must be discarded before it can be aimed."
The words left his lips like a curse.
He closed his eyes.
"...If it comes to that, then I will activate my Gifts other features."
When he opened them again, they burned with madness.
Killing one or two people was not a price—it was necessity. A mere exchange. The cost of success. The cost of resurrection.
The resurrection of his Teacher was worth any price. Even his own life.
Even everyone else's.
She was all that mattered.
He walked back to the desk and shut the Tome of Wisdom with a resounding thud. The echo reverberated across the dark room, an omen.
His painted smile returned—not joyful. Not amused.
Empty. Hollow. Resolved.
"The ends justify the means… I will resurrect you, Teacher. Even if it means burning the world to ash around me."
Outside the window, the calm night air was suddenly shattered by a high-pitched shout, indignant and full of wounded pride.
"I caught you, Beako!"
"Impossible! Betty was perfectly hidden, I suppose!"
The little girl with drill-shaped twin-tails emerged from behind a tree, her arms crossed and cheeks puffed out in protest. Her tiny feet stomped indignantly against the grass, but her pout couldn't hide the faint blush rising to her face. She had been found. And worse—found easily.
Subaru grinned with exaggerated triumph.
"Gotcha! You underestimated the great Subaru, The one who makes game masters cry, master of hide-and-seek and seeker of smug little librarians!"
Before Beatrice could retort, Subaru swooped down and lifted her into the air like a feather. Her legs kicked in protest, and her arms flailed like angry noodles.
"Put Betty down, I suppose!! You're going to spin me again—Betty forbids it—!"
He didn't listen. Of course he didn't.
With a grin plastered across his face, Subaru spun her around and around, her drill curls twirling like pinwheels as she let out a sound that was somewhere between a squeal and a shriek.
"Beako's so cuuuuuute!" he cooed with unrepentant glee, laughing as her protests turned into dizzy hiccups.
He finally slowed, gently lowering her to the grass. Beatrice wobbled in place like a broken wind-up toy, swaying with unfocused eyes.
"Ugh… Betty's world is… spinning, I suppose…"
Seeing her about to fall, Subaru instinctively reached out, steadying her shoulders.
"Careful there, my little Loli. Can't have you falling over and face-planting into the lawn. That'd be a tragedy."
Beatrice groaned, regaining her balance with all the dignity a dizzy spirit could muster. She brushed off her dress, pretending not to appreciate the support.
Then, suddenly, Subaru's tone shifted—dead serious, the way a Master martial artist might pass down sacred knowledge.
"Listen, Beako… when you're playing hide and seek… you must become the object."
Beatrice blinked up at him, confused. Subaru turned toward the thick tree beside them, then dramatically threw himself against it—his arms bent, limbs awkwardly extended to match the knobby branches above.
"See? I've become the tree."
For a long moment, Beatrice stared. Then, with a decisive nod that made her drills bounce, she spun on her heel and rushed toward the nearest bush. With all the elegance of a determined hamster, she squatted down and extended her arms in a mangled W-shape.
"Buuuuuussshhhhhh." She let out the noise, as if it was helping get into character.
Subaru slapped a hand over his mouth, struggling not to break down into laughter. His shoulders shook.
"Perfect. Absolutely flawless. A natural-born bush. Emilia better watch out—you're the new queen of camouflage."
Beatrice beamed with pride, staying stock-still in her "bush pose," despite her twin-tails being clearly visible over the top.
"Now that I found you," Subaru continued, straightening with a grin, "it's time to find Rem and Emilia. Come on, Master Bush."
"Betty dislikes that nickname I suppose."
He chuckled and offered her a hand. Beatrice took it, her small fingers curling into his.
Behind them, from a window above, unseen by the ones below, Roswaal watched in silence.
His mismatched eyes held no amusement. Just contemplation.
And something… harder to name.
***
After what felt like gliding across the earth faster than any living thing should move, Toyota's perception of the world had been reduced to a blur of grey and white noise. The ground in his vision resembled television static—constantly shifting, ungraspable. He couldn't even close his eyes to block it out. That damn perception field of his—this spherical, 360-degree view—wasn't a blessing right now. It was a curse.
And it lasted forty-five straight minutes.
Forty-five minutes of being carried like a damsel in a storybook, on a bizarre adventure, arms tucked to his chest, legs dangling uselessly.
Princess carry.
"There's no dignity in this," he muttered to himself somewhere around the twenty-minute mark.
The image was all wrong: no knight in shining armor, no valiant steed. Just a buff, red-haired woman with a blade at her hip and the strength to carry a grown man like a sack of flour.
Instead of horses, there were ground dragons.
To be fair, he had to admit—the dragons were kind of cool. Intelligent, loyal, and likely smarter than most people he'd met back home. A major upgrade from horses.
When Rei finally slowed down, her boots touched the dirt with a muted thump, barely disturbing the air despite the velocity they'd traveled. She landed with a grace that didn't match her terrifying strength. And as her feet settled, so did the world.
Solid ground.
Toyota felt like kissing it. He had the sudden urge astronauts probably had when returning from orbit—to kneel and hug the earth.
Rei set him down gently. His legs immediately wobbled, his knees buckling slightly from disuse and vertigo. She steadied him with a hand under his arm.
His field of vision, while wide, was still warped. A disorienting mix of depthless gray and smeared outlines. Trees, uneven ground, and what looked like a freshly-cut path stretched ahead of them. A thin stream split the earth nearby. Everything was colorless in his "sphere vision," like the world had been drained of vibrancy. It twisted everything, even peaceful scenery, into something sinister.
The only clue to where they were, came from the way Rei stared forward, sharp and focused.
He followed the angle of her gaze. That must be where the mansion was. He still couldn't see it, but she could.
Then, suddenly, Rei grabbed his hand—firmly—her fingers sliding between his and interlocking.
"Wha—what are y—?"
"Just making sure we aren't seen," she said flatly, her voice calm but watchful.
They stood still together, her hand wrapped around his, eyes locked ahead.
"What can you see?" he asked.
Rei's eyes narrowed, then unexpectedly, her expression softened into mild embarrassment.
"...I forgot you can't see."
Her gaze stayed forward, but her tone lowered into something more casual.
"I'm scanning for powerful signatures. So far, nothing too threatening. I don't sense anyone dangerous inside at the moment."
The tight tension in her shoulders relaxed a little, and she finally turned her head to him, curiosity replacing caution.
"So, how far does your perception go? Are you completely blind beyond a certain point?"
He shook his head, lifting a finger and pointing at a jagged rock off to the side of the trail.
"Not blind. More like foggy. I can see clearly up to that weird-shaped boulder over there."
The boulder looked like it had grown arms—natural protrusions jutting off at odd angles, like nature had tried sculpting a tree out of stone and given up halfway.
Rei tilted her head down in an apologetic way.
"I'm sorry."
Toyota was momentarily dumbfounded. An apology? For that?
Then irritation flashed across his face.
"Why are you pitying me for that? Don't. Just stop it."
But when he focused more closely on her expression, he realized—she was smirking.
Was she teasing him?
He let out a small breath through his nose, annoyed but moving on. Whatever. He had to deal with the real problem now.
"Is it possible for you to land me on the roof? I need to be close enough for my perception to find who has the heart."
Rei's expression turned serious. She nodded... paused... then finally said:
"Yes."
Then paused again.
A vein throbbed on Toyota's temple.
"I'm not blind unless you're far away. You don't have to overthink it."
Her face flushed bright red. Seemingly to hide her expression, she suddenly knocked his legs out from under him and took off again—launching into the air with that ridiculous strength of hers.
She landed perfectly on the rooftop with almost no sound, holding him in the same awkward princess-carry position. She didn't put him down. And the reason became clear a moment later.
Once the grey, dull tones of his perception stabilized, Toyota realized she wasn't just on the roof—she was balanced on the narrow tip of a tower, thin as a nail. She was standing on one foot.
How she didn't lose her balance was a major question.
Actually, when it came to Rei… if in doubt, it was 98 percent of the time some kind of divine protection.
Looking down at him in her arms, Rei asked calmly:
"Can you find and deal with the hearts from here?"
Thinking for a moment, Toyota closed his eyes and focused. His perception began to expand—layer by layer—overlaying itself across the entire mansion.
"This is a perfect spot… but if someone is outside and has the heart, I won't be able to see them."
Still, he could work with this. He scanned.
Two hundred and eleven life signatures.
All of them female.
Every single one gave off a strange sensation as he viewed them—as if he could feel suppressed sorrow radiating from each of their signatures. Not loud, not dramatic. Just a quiet, collective ache, like a garden full of flowers bent under rain.
That could only mean one thing.
"They're the wives..."
He clicked his tongue. This was insane. He knew from the novel that Regulus had once reached 291 wives, but even after over a century, he was still at it. Still collecting women like some deranged Pokémon trainer.
Another thing stood out.
His ability—similar to sonar—was evolving. He could now pick up on vibrations and, ever so faintly, emotions. Was it because they were being so strongly suppressed? Like muffled screams under a calm sea?
Didn't matter.
Time to get to work.
His mind shifted into a cold, mechanical rhythm.
"I'll destroy all of them except one," he whispered to himself.
That one, he'd extract later. Thanks to his perfect memory, he wouldn't need to go back for anything. He'd just grab her when the time came.
Wait.
"Would it still be kidnapping if they wanted to go with me…?"
He ignored the intrusive thought.
He listened—still in that painfully awkward position, cradled like a doll in Rei's arms.
He forced himself to breathe slowly.
Then—
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thuthump.
"Found it."
Two heartbeats. One body.
It couldn't be pregnancy. As twisted as Regulus was, he found physical intimacy beneath himself. He didn't touch the women—he didn't even view them as people. So all of them remained virgins, frozen in forced, lifeless "marriage."
This wasn't a child.
This was a foreign heart. A stowaway inside a host.
"Locking in."
He called on the Unseen Hand—but paused.
An epiphany struck him mid-channeling.
The hand wasn't just a ghostly extension or a detached curse. No. It was a limb. A part of him. It wasn't something to remote control like a drone. It responded to his intention—his will.
He imagined a third arm sprouting from his lower back. He imagined it stretching, reaching, with full control.
And it responded.
With fluid, absolute obedience, it shot forward, slipping through every solid surface—phasing through walls, furniture, even floors—without a sound.
It stopped.
Hovering before the face of a peach-haired woman, her eyes distant, her posture still. And inside her chest—two distinct heartbeats.
Toyota's eyes sharpened.
"Got you."
(AN: I tried to use AI to enhance my writing, it's all written by me, but AI added some bigger words and changed my habit of repeating myself. Let me know what you think. I think I will do a brief time skip to the royal selection, cause this pace feels slow.
I've set an official release schedule: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Although when I get bored, I add extra.
Bonus chapters will drop on Saturdays if my demands are met. 🔫
Trade deal:
You give me 70 power stones, and I give you a bonus chapter.
Sounds fair, right?)