Chapter 61: The Royal Capital's Grand Stage – Come If You Dare! (Patreon)

Emilia's earnest words left both Elsa and Meili stunned. They genuinely couldn't fathom how someone this hopelessly good-hearted could exist in this world.

By rights, Emilia — their new master — could simply have ordered them to behave. Instead, she chose to treat them as equals.

She'd said she meant to replace Capella as their master, and yet the attitude she showed them made it feel less like they were her slaves and more like they were partners standing on equal footing.

Even right after they'd been freed, it was Emilia who'd weathered the pressure and pleaded with Roswaal to let the two of them stay. The Margrave had clearly been none too pleased about Meili breaking their agreement, and heaven only knew how much strain Emilia had put herself under to protect them in a situation like that.

Even the Beast of the End — currently being cuddled in Meili's arms disguised as an ordinary kitten — had only agreed to accept the two of them as Emilia's companions after Emilia talked it around.

That such a powerful spirit artist, one who'd contracted the Great Spirit of Fire — one of the Four Great Spirits, no less — could be so naively kind left Elsa and Meili at a loss. In their worldview, aside from paragons like Reinhard, the stronger someone was, the lower their morals tended to run.

But now, it seemed that wasn't necessarily true.

"Listen up, you two — don't get carried away just because Lia is kind. If either of you dares to lay a hand on her, I promise you'll die slow, painful deaths. Understood?!"

Puck had cornered them privately at the time to deliver that threat. Clearly, Emilia was good through and through — good enough that even her contracted spirit had to step in to keep up appearances for her.

As it happened, though, that little flying cat had ended up capturing Meili's fierce interest instead.

At first, the aura of a Great Spirit had unsettled Meili so badly that she hadn't dared go near Puck for a long while. It was only with Emilia's coaxing that she'd finally worked up the nerve to reach out and pet the little flying cat — and discovered that, when he wasn't furious, he was actually rather adorable.

And so, in the span of a single night, the two of them had ended up where they were now.

Originally, Elsa and Meili hadn't much cared about switching sides — it was just trading one slave-owner for another, and how much worse could anyone possibly be than Capella? But now it seemed things were nothing like what they'd imagined.

That warmth was fleeting, but to people who'd seen every ugly face the world had to offer, it was precious beyond measure — precious enough to make them try, once more, to believe that something good still existed in this world.

Then Emilia drew a deep breath, walked to the window, and gazed past the unbroken stretch of forest, her voice turning resolute.

"I'm... going to the royal capital myself."

"That's going to be dangerous, you know, my lady?" Elsa reminded her.

"It's fine — because Miss Elsa will protect me, won't she?"

Emilia glanced back with a smile, and the warmth and trust in it left Elsa stunned all over again. She let out a rueful sigh, silently cursing herself for going soft — but in the end, she said nothing more.

An angel this radiant — if her wings were broken in someone else's hands, what a waste that would be.

One day, she would carve open that belly. But until then... she would gladly become the blade in the girl's shadow, doing the things Emilia couldn't bring herself to do, but which needed doing all the same.

It was all so she could witness just how exquisite the innards of this kindhearted half-elf lady would turn out to be...

Probably. Something like that.

Having talked herself into it, Elsa bowed low, resolved to follow her new mistress's will.

"Then, I, Elsa Granhiert, the Bowel Hunter, shall clear the road ahead for you."

"And if some fool without eyes tries to make trouble..." A bloodthirsty smile curled at the corner of her mouth. "Well, then it'll just be self-defense, won't it?"

Emilia felt a pang of reluctance at that, but nodded her agreement all the same. She pressed her lips together and turned her gaze once more toward the royal capital.

"Wait for me, Subaru. I'll get to the bottom of everything, I swear it."

Deep within the slums of the royal capital, an underground wine cellar that rarely saw a living soul was about to receive two rather unusual guests.

One was a petite nun, dressed in the vestments of the Divine Dragon's church, a gold necklace bearing the crest of the Divine Dragon Volcanica hanging at her throat.

The other was a hulking man wrapped head to toe in a black coat that hid every trace of his true appearance. Stranger still, he carried eight masks on his person, covering the full range of human emotion.

The one currently on his face conveyed something like confusion. He sat down beside the nun at the empty bar counter, pulled that mask off, and swapped it for one showing anger.

"Those idiots... what were they even thinking? That's not how you go about getting yourself killed!"

Since the man had also stuffed a cloth beneath the mask against his own face, his features remained hidden even with the mask removed. Clearly, he had no interest whatsoever in letting anyone see his face.

"So what do we do, Wolf?" the petite nun beside him asked timidly.

"Should we use the chaos to break away from the organization? But... even with Mother gone, Lord Shatterer won't forgive betrayal. If — if we're ever caught..."

The little nun was already trembling. The name "Shatterer" was no joke — she'd seen with her own eyes how that woman with the long, deep-green hair had pulled a pebble from a sack, crushed it, and shattered a whole swath of land in the process. What she could do to a person didn't bear thinking about.

Compared to the wrecked corpses that woman left behind, even the phrase "smashed to bits" felt like an understatement — the bodies looked more like meat minced on a chopping block.

"Ha, you don't need to worry about that, Melty."

Wolf sneered, a note of reckless confidence in his voice.

"I already checked — that woman Clarissa isn't in the royal capital right now. She's off doing who-knows-what along the kingdom's borders, whether on Mother's orders or on her own initiative."

"Either way, with things this chaotic and everyone too busy to notice us, this is the perfect chance to finally break free of this damned organization."

"But where would we even run to?"

Melty sounded thoroughly pessimistic about the idea.

"The whole kingdom is crawling with the Beloved Children's eyes and ears. Even if we manage to run for a while, we'll get caught eventually, won't we?"

"Exactly — and that's why people like us, once we've betrayed our own organization, need to find a new boss right away."

Wolf rubbed his chin and switched to a mask wearing a thoughtful expression.

"What about that Natsuki Subaru guy? No — he's probably not easy to reach, can't get in contact. Then... what about the other Royal Selection candidates?"

"What about the Six Tongues?" Melty offered quietly.

"That's it!"

At that, Wolf clapped his hands together sharply and immediately switched to a delighted mask, his whole demeanor brightening at once.

"That's a great idea. With the intel we've got, we should be able to sell it for a good price to the Six Tongues. Even if it doesn't turn into a new career, it should at least buy us some safety."

In the Elior Forest within Margrave Roswaal's domain, in a cave near a stretch of frozen woodland, the "Shatterer" Clarissa slowly made her way inside.

Suddenly, from deep within the cave came a voice — by turns shrill and piercing, then low and hoarse, brimming with utter madness and neurotic fervor.

"Ahhh... how... how slothful of me! Contacting me at a moment like this, interrupting my meditation on love — is your brain trembling?! You clueless woman!"

"Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti." Feeling as though invisible hands were choking her throat, Clarissa's voice nonetheless remained coldly emotionless. "In the name of Lust, I inform you: the final trial for the vessel of the Witch of Envy is about to begin."

The voice from within the cave halted for an instant — and then erupted into a bone-chilling, fanatical scream.

"The trial?! Ohh... how could I have forgotten?! How slothful! How slothful of me! I... uwuu, forgive my sloth, oh great Witch!"

The madman's face twisted with something like hatred as he gnawed viciously at his own fingers until blood ran freely.

Amid the rustle of turning pages, his voice rang out again — this time trembling with a fervor so intense it bordered on tears of joy.

"Ah... ahhhh! I see it! I see it! The Gospel... new words have appeared! It's... it's her will! It's the will of that most exalted, most merciful, most beautiful Lady Pandora, personally rewriting my future!"

Behind the fringe half-covering her eyes, a flicker of surprise showed in Clarissa's gaze. She hadn't expected that ephemeral, elusive Witch of Vainglory would personally hand down instructions to their group.

"Lady Pandora? What did she say?"

"She said... she said..."

Petelgeuse's voice grew shrill and piercing with sheer excitement, as though he were chanting a sacred hymn.

"'Spare no cost — offer the Dragon of the End the most magnificent tribute!' Ah... the Dragon of the End! Of course! It's him! The man who slew Lust! He is the dragon! The embodiment of destruction! The end of the world!"

"My trial isn't a test of that half-demon at all... it's... it's for me to turn my life, my loyalty, my love — all of it — into an offering for that great Dragon of the End!"

"This — this is the true final test of my faith! Ahhh, what... what boundless favor! My brain... trembles at this supreme glory! Trembles! Trembles!"

Clarissa said nothing.

She couldn't begin to make sense of the madman's logic — chasing after some "Dragon of the End" only to throw himself at it as a willing sacrifice? His thought process was more twisted than a sewer rat's.

But that didn't stop her from putting the lunatic to use.

"Good." Her voice was ice-cold as she played along with his ravings. "The children of the Council of Wise Men have already issued a warrant for that man's arrest. Right now, most of the royal capital's defenses will be tied up hunting him down. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"I need you to lead your followers in a surprise attack through the royal capital's sewers, coordinating from within with our own forces already inside the city, to create maximum chaos. Aside from the half-demon you're so fixated on — kill that Natsuki Subaru as well, while you're at it."

"Of course! Of course!"

Petelgeuse agreed with rabid enthusiasm, though something else lurked beneath the frenzy of his laughter.

"To open the most magnificent overture to the Dragon of the End's festival — to welcome its arrival with a grand, love-filled death party — what an honor that would be for me! I'll bathe the entire royal capital in the glory of love!"

"Good."

Clarissa nodded, a cold smile crossing her gloomy face.

Petelgeuse wanted to offer up his own life as a sacrifice? What a foolish lunatic.

All she needed was for this madman to draw everyone's attention and stir the royal capital into chaos.

She would make that man called Natsuki Subaru understand exactly what price he would pay for daring to harm Mother.

Not long after, the Sin Archbishop of Sloth, Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti, gathered all of his followers. Holding aloft his black Gospel, he delivered a speech before the hundreds of Witch Cultists gathered below him in their black robes.

"My fingers! My devotees of love!"

He contorted his body into one grotesque, inhuman pose after another, tearing at his own cheeks with sharp fingernails until blood streamed down his face and dripped onto the filthy ground. Yet he seemed to feel no pain at all — instead, his expression turned sick with pleasure.

"The Gospel has bestowed upon us the final oracle! An unprecedented trial is about to begin! We shall prove our diligence with blood and death! We shall praise our Witch's love with destruction and lamentation!"

"We shall become blades in the night, striking from beneath the earth the most crushing blow against that false city!"

"We shall play the symphony of destruction together with those so-called Beloved Children!"

"And I, Petelgeuse Romanée-Conti, shall offer everything I am, in this grand festival, to the Dragon of the End who is soon to reign over this world!"

He spread his arms wide, like a savior embracing the world, his eyes gleaming with a maddened green light.

"Now, march forth! For the Witch! For the Gospel! For love! For the great End that draws near!"

"OHHHHHHHHH!"

The cultists below let out a tidal roar of fanatical cheering, raising their weapons high, the same mad light gleaming in their masked eyes.

A black tide of madness and twisted "love" began to surge, unseen, along the borders of the Kingdom of Lugnica, flowing silently toward the unsuspecting royal capital.