Arc 10, Chapter 2 – “Sacrament of the Church”

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Translated by:

• Archbishop of Transportation
• Archbishop of Valiance
• Archbishop of Vindication

Proofread by:

• Archbishop of Superiority
• Archbishop of Masculinity
• Archbishop of Shipping

Art Sources:

• Negisata_rezero
• ponlypone

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――There once was a wonderful young man by the name of Fourier Lugunica.

When they had first met, he was still just a boy, and with the personable impression he gave off since those days remaining largely unchanged, he was a childish person.

He was cheerful, innocent, and naive, with a side to him such that one would never know what he might do or say even just one second later, always keeping those around him in suspense.

But, no matter how much he troubled them with his antics, he had such a charm that they would never particularly mind.

Theirs was a relationship spanning a decade.

Ten years of accumulated seconds, with each making it impossible to know what might happen in the next; there were so many things that happened.

Certainly, there were countless times where they could not simply laugh things off.

And yet, when reminiscing, even those events were ones that they looked back on with a smile.

And right in the heart of those memories recited with that smile, was always that smile of his, bright as the sun.

Allow this confession without any pretences. ――I loved Fourier Lugunica.

From the day they met, up until this very day, not once had those feelings ever wavered.

No matter what words Fourier spoke to them, no matter what thoughts he vented, no matter what tribulations they shared together, no matter what time they spent together, no matter what future he dreamed of, no matter what bitterly painful betrayals they faced, no matter what tragedy tore their heart to shreds, not once had their affection for him wavered in the slightest. ――Not once.

Certainly, if it were him, he could brave any situation without that smile of his fading. He would never lose hope.

In fact, until his very last moment, he never ceased to remain noble, pure of heart, and earnest.

They esteemed that from the bottom of their heart. They dearly respected it. They found it lovely.

That was why――,

???: [――Your Highness, I beg of you, please forgive me.]

This decision, this resignation, is by no means the result of my love for you fading.

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――The Church of the Divine Dragon was, as its name suggested, a religious organization that held faith in the Divine Dragon Volcanica, who had established a Covenant with the Kingdom, and dedicated themselves to its power and grace.

Its establishment unmistakably dated back four hundred years, to the era of the Covenant that earned the Kingdom of Lugunica the moniker of Dragon Kingdom; thus, there could be no objection to calling it a group with an ancient and distinguished history.

In fact, the Church of the Divine Dragon had remonstrated itself against the expansion of its own influence, and had maintained a certain distance from that which lay at the heart of the Kingdom, such as the Royal Family and the Royal Castle. That is to say, this was proof that the Church of the Divine Dragon had not sought out more power than was necessary, merely choosing instead to define itself as a foundation of faith.

Consequently, even when the Royal Family of Lugunica was eradicated by an epidemic, and the Royal Selection to decide the next to sit upon the throne had begun, the Church of the Divine Dragon did not actively intervene in the Kingdom’s affairs.

???: [But, we’re no longer in a position where we can be saying things like that so calmly. Ever since I heard of the Witch Cult’s violence in the Watergate City, my patience has been approaching its limit by the day.]

???: [――――]

???: [Of course, this anger should be directed toward the Witch Cult who have treated the common people so cruelly. But it’d be a nearly impossible task to uncover and punish them thoroughly… or rather, even if we punished them, it would not save those who have already suffered.]

???: [――――]

???: [Punishment must not take precedence over salvation. This too, is in the scriptures. “Punishment absent salvation is idle lightning; the Dragon first spreads its wings and embraces even the smallest of lives with affection.” This is precisely what I believe; the optimal solution for humanity…!]

Emphatically arguing so, the woman forcefully shut the thick scriptures she held to her chest.

The amount of force put into that action was such that the man listening worried the pages of the bound tome might fall out. Fortunately, the book that was slammed shut with such force did not fall apart, and a catastrophe that could have caused the persuasiveness of that forceful speech from just before to fall to the ground was also averted.

Woman: [Ahem, ahem. I’m sorry. It seems I got a tad too impassioned. It’s a habit of mine. Whether it is a good or bad habit, that shall depend on my deeds from this point on.]

And as her listener was worrying about such trifling things as the book, the woman who had made that speech cleared her throat with a tinge of embarrassment before saying so.

Despite reflecting on her own conduct, that way of thinking was striking in how it came across as strangely forward-thinking.

The man was impressed by the strength to declare that whether it was good or bad would depend upon one’s own attitude going forward; it was a way of thinking that he held a favorable impression towards. ――Though favorable, it was still an extremely complicated impression.

???: [――――]

He examined her with a glance: a beautiful woman clad in a nun’s habit.

The woman, who had introduced herself as a nun of the Church of the Divine Dragon, had visited the Karsten Family’s mansion in the Royal Capital after having held a discussion with the Council of Wise Men earlier in the Royal Castle.

The purpose of her visit was astonishing, and even now he had yet to fully recover from that shock. But the impact she had brought with her did not stop at merely the purpose of her visit.

A nun with long golden hair and crimson eyes that housed the light of her determination. Those physical characteristics of hers, and above all else, her name―― Filóre, that was how she had introduced herself, but it brought with it a shock within his old bones that rivaled the purpose of her visit.

Filóre: […I feel awkward and self-conscious saying something like this, but when you stare at me like that, I’m bewildered… I am bewildered. Quite a bit.]

???: [――. I beg your forgiveness. It appears I have been rather impolite.]

Filóre: [No, it’s not like I’m blaming you. It’s just that as a young person, the overwhelming look in your eyes, from the one called the Sword Demon… felt scary… life-threatening? Well, anyways, I just can’t help but feel that there is some other expression that sounds better.]

Indeed, toward Filóre, who was willing to overlook the boorishness of his gaze, the one who had been referred to by his epithet―― Wilhelm, quietly bowed in apology.

The intention behind his apology was twofold: both for the intimidating gaze, and for how long she had been made to wait. After all, over an hour had already passed since Filóre had arrived at the mansion.

In the meantime, Wilhelm had been unable to think of a subject to pass the time, and Filóre, who abhorred the silence, had been searching for topics to discuss since the start. She kept asking for refills of her tea to avoid the awkwardness, and she was already breaking ground on her sixth cup.

Nevertheless, the truth was that the lack of discussion was not solely due to Wilhelm’s clumsiness when it came to speaking. The greatest reason was the dual impact caused by her visit that had shaken Wilhelm to his very core, ripping away any composure he had previously possessed.

In truth, he wondered how he should treat Filóre. Wilhelm looked to the individual standing along the wall behind her, as if seeking an answer there.

He was a tall, strong man who had accompanied Filóre to the mansion――,

Wilhelm: [――Commander of the Royal Guard, Marcos Gildark.]

Marcos: [Sir.]

When Wilhelm called that name, the large man clad in silver armor who had remained silent, Marcos, straightened his already straight back even further, and responded.

His reply had been naught but a single word, but one could feel a sense of upheaval like a giant boulder being stirred, as well as a definite reverence within that solemn voice.

Wilhelm, slowly shaking his head at the consideration imbued into that tone of the man’s voice,

Wilhelm: [There is no need for you to be so formal. It has been over a decade since I was the Commander of the Royal Guard. I am just an old fool, who cannot be compared to the likes of you, the current leader of the Royal Guard.]

Marcos: [An old fool? Surely you jest.]

Commenting on Wilhelm’s remark, a faint smile rose to the surface of Marcos’s stony countenance.

He may have thought it mere modesty, but by Wilhelm’s own admission, it was no lie. He had been endeavoring to regain his former skill with the sword, but the results he had hoped for were not readily being realized with his aging body.

This explained the reason why the old veteran could never relinquish the sword, and yet, he was still so far from reaching it.

Wilhelm: [At the very least, I have recovered to the point where I can make the active Commander of the Royal Guard pass it off as a joke. I suppose I can say it is fortuitous in that respect.]

Naturally, someone appointed as Commander of the Royal Guard would be among the preeminent powerhouses of the Kingdom.

Wilhelm believed that Marcos, like himself, possessed the talent worthy of that position, though he did not intend that as self-praise―― and beyond that, he was one of the most distinguished fighters throughout history. He had been overshadowed by Wilhelm, whose deeds had always been wide-spread, and Reinhard, the strongest Sword Saint in history; but, the current strength of the Knights owed itself to the merit of the man leading them.

It was also for this reason that Wilhelm appraised Marcos as the most qualified individual out of all the prior Commanders of the Knights. But then, any evaluation of Wilhelm, who had put personal grudges ahead of loyalty and left behind his duties, may have been worthless drivel from his own point of view.

In any case, the subject Wilhelm wanted to broach here and now was not talk of the troubles of fellow Commanders of the Royal Guard separated by a generation. It was a much more serious and dire topic.

And that was――,

Wilhelm: [――Am I to conclude that the Council of Wise Men grasp the current state of affairs?]

Marcos: [Of course. They are taking this to be an extraordinary turn of events.]

Wilhelm: [That is… inevitable, I suppose.]

Omitting the subject, Wilhelm confirmed this, and Marcos did not feign ignorance nor ask what he was talking about.

It was unclear whether the answer was based more on his personality or position, but as for Wilhelm, he could confirm that the Council of Wise Men must have experienced the same shock as he had, and he let out a sigh.

Wilhelm: [To think that she has the same name as Filóre Lugunica-sama, daughter of Prince Ford Lugunica-sama.]

It had overflowed from his sigh, and as he listened to his own murmur, pregnant with an emotion that was neither relief nor grief, Wilhelm could not sort out his own feelings. And as previously mentioned, that sentiment was not solely confined to Wilhelm, but it also applied to the Council of Wise Men and everyone else who participated in the discussion at the Royal Castle.

Filóre Lugunica had disappeared fifteen years ago―― and a girl with the same physical characteristics of the Royal Family of Lugunica, even bearing the same name as her had suddenly appeared.

Wilhelm: [――――]

Glancing at Filore, who was now drinking from her seventh cup of tea in order to avoid boredom, Wilhelm searched for a glimpse of the Royal Family of his memories in her profile.

If he were to say that there was, then there was, and if he were to say that there was not, he would accept that too; there was only that kind of vague sensation.

To begin with, the princess had disappeared when she was but an infant, so it was impossible to escape the realm of conjecture regarding how she may have grown up had she survived. ――However, supposing her lineage was as Wilhelm and the others suspected, it was a serious problem that would shake the foundations of the Kingdom.

This could put the continuation of the Royal Selection itself into a precarious state, and depending on the intentions of the Church of the Divine Dragon, one could even call it the seed of a disaster that could well lead to the division of the Kingdom.

What would sprout from that seed, and what kind of flowers might bloom, were things none could possibly imagine.

Be that as it may, there were things he could declare with certainty at this point in time.

There were two Royal Selection camps who would suffer the greatest impact from Filóre’s existence and her proposal as a representative of the Church of the Divine Dragon. ――Needless to say, one would be the Crusch Camp, to which Wilhelm also belonged.

Wilhelm: [――Crusch-sama.]

Closing his eyes, Wilhelm thought of his master, who had extended a helping hand to him.

One of the Royal Selection Candidates, a preeminent women of talent in the Kingdom, and heir to Duke Karsten: for Wilhelm, who had continued to pursue the White Whale to avenge his wife, she was his irreplaceable benefactor. But the reason he still firmly believed that she herself was worthy of the throne, even now, was not simply out of gratitude.

Crusch’s attitude, character, and way of being―― that heroic sense of values and bearing like a polished sword were the reasons why Wilhelm desired her to ascend to the throne with all his heart.

Even after falling into the clutches of Gluttony and losing her Memories, that was unable to take away the earnest nobility and sincerity that permeated the core of her being.

In other words, he believed that it was the innate brilliance of her soul itself.

Consequently, for that master to suffer further disasters brought Wilhelm great sorrow, and he was assailed by his own helplessness that threatened to tear him apart; such was this bitter experience of his.

However, it could be said that it was preferable to at least be able to regret and lament one’s own errors, inadequacy, and mistakes in judgment.

Wilhelm: [――Ferris.]

The name that he subsequently voiced was that of her admirable one and only Knight, who, as far as Wilhelm knew, was likely the individual most harrowed by his deepest regrets and sense of powerlessness in the days since the Royal Selection had begun.

Wilhelm: [――――]

The reason Wilhelm was currently making their visitors, Filóre and Marcos, wait, was due to none other than Ferris. As Wilhelm and the others passed the time away in stagnation at the parlor, Ferris was spending time with Crusch in her bedroom, just the two of them.

Wilhelm gritted his teeth; just how heartbreaking, how agonizing must that time be?

It was the kind of suffering that made him want to pray that if he could take Ferris’s place and grant some relief, he would.

However, Wilhelm could not serve as a substitute. ――No, it was not only Wilhelm; no one else could replace Ferris in his current role.

It was a decision that none but Ferris could make, a choice that none but Ferris could be permitted to make; that was what lay before him.

Wilhelm, Filóre, Marcos; all of them could only continue to patiently wait for that decision and choice to be made, and nothing else.

There was no need to be impatient. Everyone had a hunch that it would not take long.

And in fact, it did not.

???: [――I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting.]

Saying so in a miserable voice, Ferris stepped into the parlor.

He was sure he had done his best. However, there were traces of tears on Ferris’s pale cheeks, and his wavering amber eyes were even now still colored by a fragment of the conflict within that could not be erased.

Wilhelm hesitated to say anything, Ferris’s thin shoulders drooping, and his cat ears and tail, which made his demi-human ancestry apparent, were worn out and exhausted.

He could not ask such a transparent question as “What happened?” “It is not your fault,” perhaps? How in the world could he dare to say such a thing? To say nothing of if he were to say, “Nothing could be done,” for he would want to cut off his own head.

There were no words to be said. Any conceivable words would just be a blade cutting through Ferris at the moment. Amongst everything he could choose, it was silence that would be the shortest and least horrible blade to stab him with.

Filóre: [How long it took is no problem for me. I’m aware of the weight of responsibility you shoulder… That’s probably nothing more than mere consolation though.]

Ferris: […Yeah. But, mere consolation helps. Because, I’m completely overwhelmed right now.]

Rather than to Wilhelm, who remained silent, Ferris instead responded to Filóre, who had spoken up.

His usual mischievous childishness mixed with frivolity had faded away, and his feeble smile seemed like it would crumble at a single touch, brittle, like it was made of candy.

Likely aware of that to a keen extent, Filóre continued her words.

Ferris seemed to be on the verge of falling apart, and as if to postpone that moment from arriving,

Filóre: [Please, let me hear the answer. ――Your answer.]

Gently extending her hand, Filóre fixed her crimson eyes upon Ferris and asked thus. Meeting that gaze head-on, Ferris’s thin lips trembled.

The hesitation that arose, however, had no power to restrain the devotion of the Blue――,

Ferris: [――Please. I’m… not enough. Please, save Crusch-sama.]

To the outstretched hand of Filóre from the Church of the Divine Dragon, that was the answer of the one and only Knight of Crusch Karsten, the Blue, Felix Argyle―― of Ferris.

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???: [――Is that true?]

Right in the middle of a moment of peace, having just exchanged a promise of friendship with Felt who had come to visit the Royal Residence, was when it was heard that at the Karsten Villa in the Royal Capital, where Crusch had been transported, treatment would be administered to counter the accursed poison tormenting her body.

Otto: [My knowledge in the matter is lacking, but it seems that a discussion involving the Church of the Divine Dragon has taken place at the Royal Castle. Apparently, the Church has a countermeasure to combat the suffering that the Sin Archbishop of Lust has inflicted upon Duchess Karsten’s body.]

Emilia: [A countermeasure… as in, you mean they can heal Crusch-san’s body? Is it a different way than what made Subaru’s hand turn black?]

Otto: [Unfortunately, for more details…]

Felt: [Well, there ain’t any point in dawdling about. ――Reinhard, head over to the Castle for a bit and figure out what they were talking about.]

Reinhard: [Understood.]

Amidst Emilia’s confusion over the report from Otto, who had just returned from brewing tea, Reinhard immediately soared to the Castle upon receiving an order following Felt’s swift judgment.

Watching the ever-diminishing figure of Reinhard as he jumped out of the window, Emilia muttered to herself, “The Church of the Divine Dragon…”,

Emilia: [Those are the people that reaaally believe in Volcanica. But, didn’t they say that, so they wouldn’t get involved with the Kingdom’s politics, they weren’t going to approach the Castle?]

Felt: [Regardless, those bastards broke the mutual agreement and showed their faces in the Castle… It’d be great if those guys can do something about Crusch-neechan’s body, but if that’s the case, they should’ve said some damn thing sooner.]

Otto: [I am unable to discern the Church of the Divine Dragon’s motives. . At the moment, all of the information we have is unconfirmed. It is just――]

During this conversation which grew ever more markedly perplexing, Otto closed his mouth, seemingly deep in thought. Seeing this, Emilia tilted her head and asked “Otto-kun?”, and with a shake of his head,

Otto: [No, while the situation remains uncertain, I should refrain from saying anything. For now, let us wait for Reinhard-san’s return.]

Emilia: […Okay? I understand. When you want to talk about it, let me know properly.]

Felt: [Regardless of whether or not green-niichan wants to talk about it, that bastard Reinhard isn’t gonna make us wait all that long. Jeez, he’s so irritating.]

With her arms folded, Felt tapped her toe and grumbled in impatience.

As Felt gazed out of the window, gently drawing her head close, Emilia faced not towards the Castle for which Reinhard had departed, but rather searched for the Crusch Residence within the Noble District.

Since they had parted ways in Pristella, they had not been able to ascertain Crusch’s condition. Her heart panged with guilt at not being able to return with an immediately useful report from the Pleiades Watchtower. If, as Otto had overheard, the Church of the Divine Dragon was able to save Crusch, then――,

Emilia: [Even if it’s not because of us, that’s totally fine. So…]

Felt: [――He’s back!]

As Emilia was about to mutter a prayer, Felt painted it over with her assertive voice.

Just as when he had departed for the Castle, Reinhard returned to the Royal Residence in a single bound. He rushed towards the window before Emilia and the others, landing softly so as to not disturb the garden lawn.

And then――,

Reinhard: [Felt-sama, the situation is urgent. Would you please accompany me to the Castle?]

Felt: [Ahh? Why the Castle? More importantly, about our conversation from a moment ago…]

Reinhard: [――Felt-sama.]

Interrupting Felt, Reinhard called her name tersely. Felt narrowed her crimson eyes at his sharp demeanor, and with a “Tch” as she clicked her tongue,

Felt: [Got it. Me, to the Castle. What about Emilia-neechan and her companion?]

Reinhard: [The information from Otto’s report has been corroborated. Indeed, it seems that the Church of the Divine Dragon is heading towards Crusch-sama’s residence. There――]

Emilia: [We’ll go. I can’t sit still any longer!]

Hearing that Otto’s report was correct, Emilia gave her chest a powerful thump.

She must have been very worried about Crusch, but if Felt had no choice but to go to the Castle, then Emilia intended to bear part of her anxieties and make the visit.

Of course, there was a high possibility that they would be turned away amidst the confusion, but,

Otto: [A visit should be fine, at least. Leave it to us… It looks like we, too, might have to head to the Castle afterwards.]

Reinhard: [Agreed. It would be better for you to think that way. Felt-sama.]

Felt: [I know, no need for you to call me over and over again]

Snorting at Reinhard as he extended his hand, Felt hopped lightly onto the window sill, and turning around to say “Emilia-neechan” as she jumped into his arms,

Felt: [The night before the devastation in Pristella, I promised Crusch-neechan that we would talk more. So…]

Emilia: [――! Yes, leave it to me! That Felt-chan is reaaally worried, I’ll be sure to let Crusch-san know!]

Felt: [Hah. I still don’t think it’s a good idea to be surrounded by friends in the Royal Selection.]

Shrugging her shoulders in response to Emilia’s strong resolve, Felt jumped into Reinhard’s arms. As he caught her with reverence, adjusting her position within his arms, Reinhard briefly glanced at Emilia and Otto―― immediately after, with another single leap, he flew back towards the Castle.

Otto: [Oh dear, he really is abnormal. Us humans will have to hurry on our own feet.]

Emilia: [If I try my best, I might be able to hold Otto-kun in my arms and hop over with a “pyon”…]

Otto: [That has some pros and cons, but please do that for Natsuki-san, not me. ――Let us hurry.]

Emilia: [Got it!]

Nodding at Otto’s urging, Emilia too quickly hurried off, rushing into the streets of the Royal Capital.

Their destination was the Karsten residence―― previously, when Crusch and company had been injured in an attack following the Subjugation of the White Whale, they had hastened down this same route out of concern; their impatience now carried them much faster than before.

And then――,

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???: [――Ferris!]

Gasping for breath from her dash there, when Emilia witnessed the figure of Ferris kneeling as if in prayer, she called out to him with a voice bordering on a shriek.

Her voice making his flaxen cat ears tremble, Ferris timidly turned his head.

Ferris: […Emilia… sama?]

Emilia: [Yes, that’s right. I haven’t heard all of it, but I know the gist. Sorry it took so long to get here.]

Ferris’s feeble voice was acutely agonizing for Emilia, and it ached deep within her heart.

He had always given off an air of adorableness and liveliness, and yet when they met again like this after such a long time, Ferris felt so pitiful and ephemeral, it seemed like he would just fade away.

As if to prevent that from happening, Emilia embraced that slender figure without any hesitation.

Ferris: [――Y-you’ll get tears and snot on you.]

Emilia: [That’s nothing to worry about. It doesn’t bother me. Leaving you like this would be way, way more painful, Ferris.]

Ferris: [――Hk.]

Taking care not to squeeze too tightly with her arms, Emilia hoped that the heat of her own body, as well as her concern for Ferris, who was right before her eyes, as well as Crusch, would be conveyed.

Behind Emilia and Ferris, treading across the carpet was Wilhelm, who had received them. Emilia and Otto had arrived at the estate in a panic, and rather than turning them away, Wilhelm had let them in.

Having arrived late after Emilia, Otto stole a quick glance at Wilhelm,

Otto: [I know we are the ones paying you a visit, but is it okay? In this situation…]

Wilhelm: [It is my own judgement, but it was precisely because of the current situation that I did so. Even if it is but a single person, it is reassuring to know that someone is sincerely praying for Crusch-sama’s well-being right now.]

Otto: […It is certainly true that in that regard, Emilia-sama’s power is indeed great.]

Otto and Wilhelm were having some sort of exchange behind her, but Emilia could not hear their words. Right then, she wanted to devote her heart and soul to Ferris, who was in her arms. Holding his feebly, pitifully trembling body, Emilia tenderly stroked his back.

Emilia: [Ferris, is Crusch-san…?]

Ferris: [――She’s… inside. Inside that room, right now, they’re treating…]

Emilia: [――――]

Firmly within her embrace, Ferris indicated the door he had been kneeling and praying before with his gaze―― within Emilia’s memories, she recalled it was a bedroom.

Without a doubt, it was the room where Crusch had been brought to rest and where the treatment was taking place.

And yet, that Ferris was outside the room like this――,

???: [It is a sacrament of the Church of the Divine Dragon, esoteric and not to be shown to outsiders.]

Emilia was taken aback when the large figure standing as still as a statue in the hallway replied with that answer. Now that she got a good look at him, she recognized him as the Commander of the Royal Guard, whom she had seen several times at the Royal Castle.

She wondered if the Commander of the Royal Guard had also been worried about Crusch and rushed over. Or perhaps he was good friends with Ferris, and that was the reason why he was present.

In any case――,

Emilia: [A sacrament… so can it be used to save Crusch-san?]

Ferris: [I d-don’t know… b-but, there’s no other way… I-I, I-I’m u-useless… hk.]

Emilia: [That’s not… hk!]

…True, is what she had wanted to say aloud. In fact, had this been the Emilia from not too long ago, she certainly would have said so without thinking anything of it.

However, she now realized that simply saying that on impulse, without any thought, would not encourage or console Ferris in any true sense.

Ferris was amazing. He possessed a truly, immensely special and incredibly kind power.

However, Ferris was unable to use this power that Emilia respected from the bottom of her heart for the sake of Crusch, the most important person in the world to him. He was crying and trembling like this, facing such a truly arduous and excruciating reality that he could do nothing about; there was no way she could say that without any thought.

Emilia: [It’s okay, it’s okay.]

Therefore, Emilia swallowed back down the words she had begun to say, and tenderly embraced Ferris. She continued to embrace him. Continued to embrace him, and continued to hold him close.

When Emilia had felt frozen by her own powerlessness, that was what had made her happiest; so, she did the same for him.

Emilia: [――Hang in there, Crusch-san.]

Supporting the weeping and trembling Ferris, Emilia prayed.

Emilia knew that Otto and Wilhelm, along with the Commander of the Royal Guard, were also praying for her, right behind where she and Ferris held each other close in prayer for Crusch’s well-being.

Behind that door, someone whose face she did not know, from the Church of the Divine Dragon, was struggling.

Struggling to save Crusch, who sustained a horrific injury fighting for the people.

Wishing for that tenacity to bear fruit, she prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and then eventually――,

???: [――You can enter now.]

Suddenly, a voice was heard from the other side of the door, and Emilia snapped her head up.

It was a completely exhausted female voice, its message causing Ferris to flinch within Emilia’s arms as he stared at her face in disbelief.

His wholehearted prayers brought to an abrupt halt, Ferris’s mind was unable to catch up with reality.

Emilia: [Can you stand?]

Ferris: [Y-yes, I can s-stand…]

Standing up before Ferris, Emilia lent him her arm to help him up. His slender knees shook unreliably, but Ferris turned his round eyes toward the door and exhaled, walking one step at a time.

Supporting Ferris’s shoulder as he did so, Emilia also headed for the door as well. Then, she turned the door handle for him, as his whole body continued to shake.

The door made a sound as it opened, and on the other side was the bedroom. There was a bed placed in the center of the room, and a woman had been laid upon it. That figure was――,

Ferris: [――Ah.]

Letting out a hoarse sigh, Ferris stepped forward as if he were in a trance. His legs of no particular reliability seemed like they would immediately become tangled and pull him down.

However, that did not happen. Ferris unconsciously shook off Emilia’s supporting hand and headed for the bed where Crusch lay with enough momentum that it seemed like he would collapse onto it.

Ferris: [Crusch-sama… Crusch… sama… Crusch-samaaa… hk.]

Hearing that choked, tearful voice repeatedly calling out for his beloved, Emilia stepped forward towards the middle of the room as well, gazing upon Crusch, who Ferris was fixed on.

Having spent so long bedridden, Crusch’s beauty had become emaciated, and her skin pale like that of an invalid, even despite the daily care she had received. ――However, the evil poison that had taken root, stretching across her face, neck, and body, was nowhere to be found upon her visible skin.

???: [Prayers… can be answered.]

Emilia: [――You are?]

Emilia, who stood beside Ferris as he clung to the bed, looked around, noticing the form of a blonde woman across the bed, stretching out her legs as she sat on the floor.

She was a member of the Church of the Divine Dragon who had been testing a method to save Crusch. Her breathing was markedly fatigued, and despite the amount of sweat covering her forehead, the woman broke out in a smile,

Blonde Woman: [This too, is in the scriptures. “The salvation of but one, is according to the prayers of the many. For it is only in communion that the grace of the Dragon shall reign supreme.”]

Emilia: [――Hk, thank you.]

Blonde Woman: [This much is a piece of cake… I mean, of course.]

The expression of the woman with a brave smile upon her face stiffened, and she immediately corrected her speech. While feeling sincere gratitude for her efforts, Emilia crouched and put her arms around Ferris’s shoulders.

As she supported Ferris in the midst of his shaking and weeping, she rejoiced with all her heart in knowing that their prayers had been answered.

Emilia: [Crusch-san, when you wake up, there reaaally is so much that I want to talk with you about. I have a message from Felt-chan, and a lot more I want to say.]

With all traces of that gruesome and vile poison wiped from her face, Crusch slept, her eyes still closed. Wishing dearly for the time that sleeping face would wake, Emilia spoke to her.

When she woke, there would be much that Emilia wanted to talk about. Among them was her own selfish desires, spurred on by Anastasia and Felt.

Therefore――,

Emilia: [Reaaallly, reaaally, thank you so much for hanging in there.]

Indeed, Emilia’s eyes softened as she expressed her gratitude for each and every person there.

△▼△▼△▼△

Otto: [――――]

Laying his eyes upon the results displayed by the sacrament of the Divine Dragon Church, Otto gazed at Ferris, who was clinging to his bed-ridden master, and Emilia, who was supporting him.

Wilhelm: [Crusch-sama, how truly… how truly…]

Likewise, bearing witness to the same sight, Wilhelm was overcome with emotion, his voice trembling.

It was proof that even he, famous for his legendary swordsmanship under the name of the Sword Demon, had continued to have his heart worn down by his inability to be of use to his master during her time of anguish.

Though incomparable to the devotion of her one and only Knight, Ferris, who had devoted himself to her for many long years, it was still clear that Wilhelm’s chest had been filled with relief and gratitude.

And in no small amount, Otto felt the same.

Just before this, as he had recollected alongside Reinhard, Otto too had been shaken by the death of Priscilla. Hence, the fact that Crusch had been saved after sustaining a tremendous wound during the battle at the Watergate City caused him to feel a definite relief.

That made him glad. Truly, he was glad.

But at the same time, he became convinced of the possibility of which he had refrained from informing Emilia.

That was――,

Otto: [――The Royal Selection of Duchess Crusch Karsten, ends here.]

At the very least, it was a conviction that did not need to be shared with anyone present here at the current moment, in this place shedding tears of joy at Crusch’s safe recovery, whispered soundlessly in the confines of his mouth.