Somehow, Living Life in Another World is Wrong, as I Expected Ch. 13.C (Patreon)

Satisfaction.

It had been a long time since I had felt such satisfaction, if you would pardon the pun. Had Hachiman been privy to my thoughts, he would have no doubt scoffed at me, even as he would secretly find it amusing. Truly, for a former pickpocket, Felt was one of the most skilled individuals I had the pleasure of meeting.

Her occasional brusqueness notwithstanding, she displayed a level of agility even I am unable to match. Partly due to her Divine Blessing, and partly due to her honed skills, not once did the Great Rabbit come close to harming her. If her skills could be further tempered, I have no doubts she would reach the level of Julius Juukulius.

Ah, I fear I am getting ahead of myself. As much as I would enjoy having her under my employ, she was loyal to Hachiman first and foremost. I would not dare to sour my relationship with them over this. I value his friendship more than a single talent. 

I’ve digressed long enough. Yes, I feel satisfied with what we have done. The White Whale, the Great Rabbit, three Archbishops. There are no words to describe the sheer strength that had been thought to have been required to successfully fend those off. The only individual that was thought to be capable would have been the Sword Saint himself.

We had done so, with nearly no time to recuperate in between.

With these victories, I could see a path where the taint of the Witch Cult was purged from our world. A home where we were finally free from the Witch of Envy’s four hundred year old pallor of fear. 

“What are you grinning about?”

Yes, I was grinning. No, I was not about to stop.

“You should already know the answer to that, Hachiman.” I turned to the man beside me as we waited for the rest of the villagers to gather their belongings. 

It had been barely ten minutes since the Great Spirit of Yin had cast Al Shamak, entrapping the entirety of the Great Rabbit in another realm. In one fell swoop, a plague that had swept this land had been neutralized, thanks to an eclectic mix of talents and skills that we had available.

“And you should know that not everything is what it seems.” The blacksmith rolled his eyes, though there was an undercurrent of wariness there that I could not help but mirror, dampening my smile slightly.

“What is it? Do you suspect something?” Often, when Hachiman suspects, it is with a healthy dose of paranoia. Or, I would say so, but is it really paranoia when he has been correct more times than he was not? I had therefore learned that if Hachiman thought that something was amiss, it would be in everyone’s best interest if we were to put a close eye on things.

“It’s just, it’s too damn clean.” He furiously scratched the back of his head, his eyes scanning around us wildly, “What are the chances that everything goes right like this? The fact that every single outcome that’s happened is probably the best scenario that could have happened is making me think that shit’s going to hit the fan the moment we relax.”

…He was not wrong.

Rarely do plans ever go this well. There would almost always be casualties, unexpected variables that throw everyone off. 

I held my silence. The cold was settling in the way it always did after a crisis, with the body's awareness of discomfort returning now that survival was no longer the only thought occupying the mind. The clearing was, by any reasonable measure, a ruin. Gouges of displaced earth and the pale scoring left by the Rabbit's tide pressing against Romanée-Conti's improvised barriers before the end. What trees still stood at the treeline did so at odd angles, stripped of bark on the eastern sides.

Despite that, not a single hair had been harmed from the gathered peoples.

A calamity that would have killed hundreds without a single survivor, and we had near instantaneously eradicated it. It was unthinkable that such a victory would come without sacrifice. That the heart I had hardened to see the aftermath of a massacre was never needed.

Do not think I am unthankful for the lack of casualties. I will never be unthankful that no blood has been spilt. That doesn’t mean I would not be wondering why it didn’t happen.

Unfortunately, such is the curse of leadership. I must always look to find the worse case scenario, and find a way to mitigate the effects. Usually, even that is not enough. Humans, demi-humans, and anyone who has free will, each and every one reacts differently to different events. One cannot truly account for every single event that could happen.

But one individual somehow did so.

Subaru Natsuki is an anomaly that I cannot afford to lose track of. There was no chance of coercing him away from Emilia and her camp, of course. Much like Felt, the boy was loyal to the half-elf, almost to a fault. Yet, he was even more dangerous than everyone here combined.

While I still haven’t gotten the full scope of events, I know that Natsuki was involved in everything here, from the smallest of nudges, all the way to the sealing of the Archbishop of Lust. Whatever his true ability was, it got him to take into account every single event that had happened, and allowed for us to win the day without issue.

True, there were instances where we had to fight for our lives - the Vollachian corpse soldier especially was dangerous, to the point Wilhelm would have been barely able to keep up, had he been here to fight Kurgan. However, those instances were situations where we didn’t have to have help in order to survive. Hachiman’s case was different. He was outmatched by Lust’s versatility and ability to survive. Without outside interference, he would have likely perished.

Lo and behold, it was when Natsuki entered the fray and rescued him.

I was thankful for Natsuki. The thought of having one of my few friends succumb to an Archbishop like that was…I would not have taken it well, I’m afraid. That didn’t stop me from drawing my own suspicions, even if I had had to put them on the backburner for the greater threat that was the Rabbit.

Still, it was highly suspicious that Natsuki would somehow time his presence just right. What did Hachiman say in the past? Des eks machine? Something along those lines, I believe. A situation when there is intervention from the heavens to solve an unsolvable problem.

Something along the lines of the contract with the Dragon, I suppose.

An unfortunate coincidence that my own paranoia couldn’t help but connect. I knew, as much as Hachiman did, that Natsuki had some form of clairvoyance, though it was not infallible. Of course, this could be as much of a fabrication as it could not be. 

The power of clairvoyance came not from knowing what will happen, but making sure other people don’t know about it. Otherwise, if your opponent knew that you knew what they were going to do, then the best play was to make your opponent believe they could circumvent that clairvoyance.

Damnation. This is why I dislike dealing with clairvoyants.

Whether or not Natsuki had different intentions, the end result doesn't change. With him, we have achieved a near perfect victory, and it comes down to a net positive for the world.

Perhaps the only exception was Emilia’s sponsor.

Immediately, I felt a bit of bile hit my throat.

Margrave Mathers, one of the most prominent figures in all of Lugunica. You would be hard pressed to find anyone who didn't at least know him by his reputation. All this time, he had been working towards the resurrection of a Witch, aided by a book that sounded suspiciously like a Gospel.

As much as I would like to believe that the Book of Wisdom that he held was not a Gospel, how he acted when it was destroyed was too similar to how other Cultists did when the same happened to them. It was…saddening to think that the grandson of the woman that Wilhelm considered a friend had fallen so far.

However, that was overcome by the anger I felt towards him.

How dare he? Mathers, just Mathers - I refuse to acknowledge such scum as a member of nobility - had forsaken the oaths that he had taken when he became the Court Mage. He had purposely endangered the people that he was supposed to protect. Led the damn Great Rabbit here! All for what? A Witch?!

Truly, Mathers had fallen far.

Unfortunately, I doubt that his position would be revoked, as deserved as it may be. It would be too politically damaging for the entire kingdom, as he was still considered the premier mage of the entire country. His removal could spark a cascade of events that might lead to war, as the northern territories that border Gusteko would have no protector.

As much as I loathe his entire being, it seems that Mathers is to remain untouched. For now.

I will be informing the Council, once we give our reports, of course. 

What will happen is that, on paper, Mathers would still be the Court Mage and retain his titles, until such a time that a replacement can be found. After which, all of his accolades and skills would do him no good, with his imprisonment or execution unavoidable. Even before then, he would be given no responsibilities, no soft power to manipulate the people of Lugunica.

It was far better than he deserved.

The only real problem, I fear, would be Emilia. My fellow candidate has nothing to do with her sponsor’s actions, and was likely a pawn for his games anyway. The rest of the people would not see it that way, sadly. No, they will see that a silver-haired half-elf was sponsored by a Witch Cultist, and would demand her removal from the Royal Selection.

If it ever started in the first place.

All of that, however, can wait. 

“Perhaps, we should not look the gift dragon in the mouth.” I finally replied. It had taken a while for me to respond, true, but I also knew that Hachiman was the same as I. We were both deep enough in our own thoughts that my delay was only matched by his own.

Hachiman let out a long, long-suffering sigh, a sound that I had long since gotten used to, "Dragons usually hoard gold, demand sacrifices, and occasionally burn down kingdoms, Karsten." He muttered, his voice laced with his trademark cynicism. 

"If one of them hands you a gift wrapped in a neat little bow, it's probably because the box is rigged to explode the second you open it."

I couldn't help it. A soft, genuine chuckle escaped my lips, momentarily breaking the stoic facade I normally maintained.

"A grim perspective, but not an entirely unwarranted one." I conceded, turning my gaze back to the clearing where the villagers of Irlam were hastily packing their remaining supplies, "However, if the box is indeed rigged, I would rather face the explosion with our current forces intact than face it after having been bled dry by the Rabbit."

He grunted, uncrossing his arms to adjust the grip on his weapon, "Fair enough. But the moment something goes wrong, I'm taking full credit for calling it."

"I would expect nothing less of you, Hachiman." I let my chuckle fade into a far more comfortable silence, before I broke it once more.

"Shall we?" I asked, my tone shifting back to the commanding cadence of a military leader, "Let us speak with Emilia and her knight before the caravan departs. If we are to weather the coming storm, we must ensure our current alliances are firmly understood."

Hachiman fell into step beside me, his gait lazy but his eyes scanning our surroundings with predatory sharpness, "You know I'm still not part of your camp, right?"

"Of course." I nodded without a moment's hesitation, "That doesn't mean that I won't help you with the attention we are bound to get. Unless you think that this will blow over without anyone knowing of your involvement?"

The blacksmith clicked his tongue but didn't refute me. He couldn't, not when the news of our victory would no doubt spread across the Arlam villagers, then onto the traders, then onto the rest of the kingdom. And that's if I kept quiet about it. Which I won't.

Apologies, Hachiman. I am, as you would say, playing to win.

And surprisingly, the finish line looks far, far closer than it ever has before.

…