After a simple yet peaceful breakfast with Emilia, Subaru made his way toward the training grounds, his steps light, almost playful. The lingering taste of jam and fresh bread still clung faintly to his lips, and the gentle memory of Emilia's smile warmed his chest. The morning air was crisp, filled with dew and birdsong, brushing softly against his skin like a lullaby trying to lull him back to peace.
The sun hadn't fully risen yet, casting long blue shadows across the grounds. Yet even in this early hour, the mansion hummed with life—the low clatter of dishes, footsteps of maids, the soft rustle of wind through the hedges. Subaru, despite knowing what the day might hold, walked as though it were any other.
Until that voice sliced through the air like a knife.
"Barusu."
Cold. Sharp. Detached in a way that felt almost surgical.
Ram.
He turned reflexively, a flicker of a smile curling on his lips. "Yeah? Need something?"
No reply came. Instead, Ram hefted a wooden crate and, without warning, dropped it into his arms. Subaru's legs buckled slightly, a grunt escaping him as the sheer weight nearly flattened him.
He winced, adjusting his grip. "What the hell—what's in here, bricks?"
Peering inside, he saw the truth: a trove of books filled with this world's script. Study materials, encyclopedias, tomes with fraying spines and ominous titles. Novels with embossed glyphs and pages that smelled of dust and ink. It looked like someone had thrown a library at him.
Ram folded her arms, her gaze unreadable. "I've been assigned to teach you literacy. I told you this before. There were... complications. But they've been resolved. You'll begin tonight. Be prepared."
Her tone was as flat and absolute as the final bell of judgment. Not a suggestion. A declaration of war—a war waged not with swords, but with syllables and semantics.
Subaru stood there, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. His fake grin faltered before he summoned a more genuine, if resigned, expression.
"Understood, sensei. I'll bring snacks. Or maybe a helmet."
Ram glanced at him sidelong, and for the briefest moment something softened in her eyes—approval, or maybe just mild amusement. Then she turned on her heel and walked away, her pink hair swaying behind her like a battle standard, disappearing toward the kitchen where Rem awaited.
Subaru trudged to his room with the crate, its weight dragging both his arms and his mood. The wood bit into his palms, each step louder than the last. By the time he dropped the crate onto his desk, his arms were trembling.
He exhaled. "I already... know how to read."
His voice was low. Almost ashamed. But this deception was necessary. Playing the ignorant outsider was safer—for now. Every lie built the foundation for survival. Every act of ignorance hid the bleeding truth.
He ran a hand through his hair and straightened. The day was still young, and the battlefield he had truly chosen lay ahead.
Walking back out into the morning, Subaru's thoughts spun like storm clouds gathering. "Sometimes, the burden of hiding weighs heavier than the knowledge itself."
The words tasted bitter as he whispered them.
He reached the training grounds, and his hand instinctively drifted toward his belt—toward the small pouch where Flugel's artifact lay nestled. His fingers brushed the cool surface through the fabric. It was still there.
Opening his inventory with a thought, he focused. The crystalline object gleamed faintly in the ethereal menu space, still and silent. Yet beneath its calm exterior, something pulsed.
It wasn't just a tool. It wasn't a mere weapon. It was a challenge. A mirror. A whisper from the past and a dare to the future.
He drew it out slowly, cradling it in both palms. The moment he made contact, his breath hitched.
Memories surged. Flugel's voice, cryptic and mocking, echoed through his mind.
"Show me what you fear. And then show me how you'll conquer it."
Subaru closed his eyes. He reached inward, channeling mana into the crystal. A pale glow began to bloom between his fingers.
Then... he imagined.
Not just an opponent. Not just a training dummy.
A monster. A specter from his nightmares. A woman draped in darkness. A smile sharper than any blade. The scent of blood and perfume.
Elsa Granhiert—the Bowel Hunter.
The image took shape, etched in light and mana. Shadows curled around her outline until her form solidified.
Subaru's hand twitched. Etherfang answered.
The blade materialized with a low hum, trembling slightly as if it remembered her too.
The clone opened her eyes. That smile—the one that had haunted his sleep—graced her lips. Not malicious. Just hungry.
"Elsa Granhiert," Subaru said, stepping forward, his voice frostbitten, calm. "Care to dance with me?"
The clone tilted her head, and her fingers slid to the hilts of her daggers like a lover greeting an old flame.
"With pleasure~ Natsuki Subaru."
A mockery of civility. A greeting dipped in poison.
Power flooded Subaru's veins.
[Ding!]
[Mana Blade – Active]
[Advanced Dagger Technique – Active]
[Phantom Drift – Active]
His body responded instantly. Reflexes sharpened, vision narrowed, heartbeat synced to a rhythm of survival.
They stood there, still as statues. Even the wind dared not stir.
Then— Elsa vanished.
Steel sang. She reappeared mid-lunge, daggers aimed at his throat. Her speed blurred reality.
Subaru moved. Etherfang intercepted, the blades clashing with a sound like lightning tearing sky. He staggered under the force, but his footing held.
He countered instinctively, Advanced Dagger Technique guiding each movement like a dance rehearsed in death.
He knew her. Knew the way her shoulders shifted before a feint, the pause in her breathing before she struck low. He had memorized her like scripture.
But she was faster. Stronger. More precise. He gritted his teeth. Forced himself to breathe.
"This isn't just a spar," he whispered. "This is my crucible."
Elsa pressed the attack. Steel flashed in every direction, forcing Subaru back with flurries of expertly timed strikes. Etherfang barely kept up, deflecting by the skin of its edge.
She moved like water. Like smoke. Like death incarnate.
But he wasn't just dodging.
He was evolving. Channeling mana to his legs, Subaru surged forward.
The ground cracked. Stone trembled under his acceleration. For a breathless heartbeat, he vanished.
Air tore open. Elsa's eyes widened—but too late.
He reappeared behind her, blade already in motion.
She spun, barely parrying. The force sent her skidding back.
Subaru didn't stop. He pressed forward, chaining momentum, bursts of mana exploding from his limbs to fuel every strike.
He didn't know how he was doing it. He only knew one truth: He couldn't afford to lose. Not here. Not again.
Elsa faltered. Her wrist shattered. Shoulder split. Thigh gashed. Subaru pressed his advantage—relentless, breath ragged, every fiber of his being screaming to end it before she could recover.
The copy leapt back, boots skidding across the stone. Paused. That mad glint reignited in her eyes—feral and calculating, like a beast cornered but far from defeated.
Her daggers… pulsed with violet light. The air vibrated with a sickening hum, unnatural, wrong—like reality itself flinching.
Subaru's stomach dropped. He could feel the shift, the gathering storm. "You taught them MANA, you bastard Flugel?!"
The words tore out of him, raw and furious. He wasn't asking—he was accusing.
Elsa's wounds began knitting shut before his eyes. Flesh reweaving itself with chilling grace, bones cracking back into place like gears of some cursed machine. Her body was healing—no, reconstructing.
His composure faltered. Just for a second.
"The creator of this toy must be quite special, hmm?" the copy giggled. Her voice, syrupy and venom-laced, was somehow curious. Like a predator studying new prey.
He exhaled sharply. Tried to ground himself.
"You don't wanna know."
But he did know one thing: mana alone wouldn't be enough. Not against this.
He needed something deeper. Older. More primordial. Yin magic.
He summoned his will— And then, nothing. A shadow blurred.
Elsa.
She was already in front of him. He hadn't even seen her move.
A flicker of motion. That same silent glide. The same ghostlike transition from stillness to slaughter.
It was just like the tavern.
SLASH!
Pain ignited. His wrist split open. Blood arced through the air. Etherfang clattered to the ground.
He stumbled. One-handed now. Arm useless. But his eyes— Still burned. No surrender.
He backstepped, heart pounding against his ribs. His breathing shallow. Vision swimming. He had one shot left.
Left arm raised— "SHAMAK!"
A wave of black mist surged outward, swallowing Elsa in a churning vortex. It rolled like smoke, thick and heavy, devouring light.
Visibility vanished. But not for him.
Subaru could still see her. The spell, the darkness— It was his. His world.
For once, he had the upper hand. He moved. Pivoted like a dancer in shadow. Struck from her blind spot—
Etherfang's twin blade flashed. Every drop of mana he had left surged into its core. It glowed—then hissed—then shimmered like a star being crushed.
And he threw.
Elsa turned— But too late. The blade detonated midair. A mana bomb.
The shockwave howled through the black.
Elsa's silhouette warped. Shadows cracked. Her form twisted.
And then— She dissolved.
Subaru collapsed to one knee. His chest rose and fell in painful jerks. His body screamed, blood dripping freely.
But deep in his core… A quiet satisfaction. "I lost before…" He coughed. "…but not this time."
He pressed a trembling hand to his heart. Felt the fading rhythm of his mana.
Still… he smiled. He could smell it.
Victory.
And within that scent— Lay power.
The remnants of Shamak drifted away like ash. The fog peeled back from the world.
The training ground lay scarred and silent. Cracks webbed the stone. The air still shimmered from residual heat.
Then— Clap. Clap. Clap. Measured. Mocking. Cold. Footsteps echoed. From the edge of the shadows stepped a figure, painted in half-light.
Roswaal.
"Congratulaaations, Subaru-kuuun~"
His voice curled through the silence—jovial, sinister, theatrical. "Defeating her—even as a hologram—is quite impressive~"
Subaru said nothing. Didn't look up. Just breathed. Slow. Deliberate.
His body was a battlefield. "Now then, Subaru-kun~" Roswaal strolled closer. His mismatched eyes gleamed. They flicked to the artifact still pulsing faintly on the floor.
"Where ever did you find such a fascinating toy? Normally, only royal nobility can access items like this…" He crouched. One long finger traced the device's etched surface. Then, silence.
Roswaal looked up— And stared through Subaru.
Subaru didn't flinch. Didn't blink. "A gift. Why do you care?"
The air shifted. A pause. Roswaal's eyes narrowed—barely—but enough. Then, the mask cracked.
His voice returned, but now flat. Empty. And all the more terrifying. "Because you… are not as you should be."
Subaru's pupils constricted. Something inside him twisted. Tightened.
Roswaal knew. The Gospel—that accursed book—hadn't seen this coming.
His strength. His resolve. This version of him— Wasn't in the script. "Care to elaborate, Roswaal?"
His voice carried steel. But deep below… a ripple of unease.
Roswaal watched him. Unblinking. Then the smile returned. Mask snapping back into place.
"Ah, ah~ It's hardly important, Subaru-kuuun~" He clasped his hands behind his back. Twirled on one heel.
"Merely… wanted to inform you of a small meeting this noon. There've been… developments regarding Emilia-sama's candidacy."
Subaru rose slowly. His legs trembled, but he stood tall. "I'll be there. Anything concerning Emilia… concerns me."
Roswaal held his gaze. One heartbeat. Two. Three.
Then giggled. Turned. Walked away. Only footsteps remained. Alone again.
Subaru slumped to his knees. His body shuddered.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Channeling that much mana… then detonating it…" He bit his lip. Blood on his tongue. "I'm wrecking myself."
But there was no other path. No resets this time. No safety net. Just forward.
Next time— He'd be sharper. Smarter. Stronger. He stood. Wrapped his wounded hand with a tighter bandage. Etherfang's twin still pulsed—faint, but alive.
Mana clung to it like a whisper from something older than time. He exhaled once. Steady. Time to change.
The Subaru smelled bad. Absolutely rancid.
"Of course I stink," he muttered to himself, peeling his shirt from his sweat-soaked body. Sweat dripped in rivulets from his brow and clung to his collarbones. Every fiber of his being radiated exhaustion. "Near-death combat... blood, sweat... completely normal, right?"
His legs were shaky as he made his way to his room. Each step left a faint smudge of dirt on the hallway floor. He grabbed a towel and the neatly folded spare clothes Rem had left him, stacked with almost too much care.
Then, wordlessly, he headed for the bath.
Steam curled in the dim corridor light. The scent of damp stone and cedar hung in the air. Apparently, the twins had forgotten to replenish the firestones again— the water would be lukewarm at best, but right now, he didn't care.
The bathhouse door groaned as he pushed it open. The air inside was thick and moist, curling around his face like a hot breath.
"Meh... First come, first serve," he mumbled, dropping the towel by the side.
He sank into the tub.
The lukewarm water, while not ideal, still melted into his aching muscles like syrup on a cold pancake. The tension in his shoulders unwound. His limbs turned to jelly. For the first time in what felt like ages— He relaxed.
"Peace... What a rare luxury," he breathed. Then— The door creaked open.
Soft footsteps. A hesitant, familiar voice:
"Subaru-kun? What are you doing here?"
Rem.
His eyes stayed closed, head lolling back lazily against the edge of the tub. Too drowsy to process the implications.
"Post-training soak. You?" His voice came out low, syrupy, like honey left under the sun.
"I... came for the same reason." A pause. "If I'm intruding... I can return later."
Retreating steps.
Subaru cracked one eye open, tilted his head lazily, a slight grin on his face. "It's fine, Rem~ Mixed baths exist in this world anyway... Or am I wrong?"
A deep silence followed.
Then— The gentle splash of water.
Rem stepped in. She settled at the farthest end of the bath, towel clutched like a shield against her chest. Her cheeks were flushed pink, eyes flickering away from him.
Minutes passed. Only the soft sounds of water shifting and Subaru's steady breathing filled the room. Until—
He slid underwater.
Time stopped for a beat. Then he jolted up, sputtering, coughing. Steam blurred his vision, water streaming down his face.
And then he saw her—Rem's silhouette through the fog.
His brain short-circuited. "A-Aaa... N-no— I INVITED THIS! WHAT WAS I THINKING?!"
Internal screaming intensified. "I-I'll j-just go now—!" He scrambled up, slipping slightly on the smooth floor, his words dissolving into nervous gasps.
"Take care, Subaru-kun... Dry off properly." Rem's voice was calm, but a tremor of tension hung in her tone.
He fled. Wet footprints echoed through the hall behind him.
Meanwhile, back in the bath— Rem pressed her burning face into the water. A muffled scream escaped beneath the surface.
Subaru slammed his bedroom door shut, collapsed against it, and slid down like a villain defeated in the final act.
His inner monologue exploded:
"WHY DID I SAY THAT?! WHY DID I INVITE HER?! REM HATES ME NOW! IF I APOLOGIZE, WILL SHE FORGIVE ME?! WAIT—IF I DIE AND RETURN, NO ONE REMEMBERS!!"
Then— A voice slathered in irritation:
"Keep rambling, and I'll kill you myself."
Flugel.
Subaru froze. "Ah. Sorry..." A beat. Then the horror returned: "W-Wait! DID YOU SEE EVERYTHING?!"
Flugel's mental sigh was drenched in exhaustion. "No, you suicidal maniac. I was trying to sleep. Shut up."
Subaru's mouth clicked shut.
(Wait—spirits could sleep? Was that a thing? How did it work? ...No. Better not ask.)
He dressed in silence. Mechanical. Awkward. Still damp in places.
Took a long, shaky breath. "Please... let this blow over." Clutching that fragile hope, he threw himself into the books Ram had given him.
His face still flushed slightly. His mind reeled. But at least— Now, he was calm.
Or, calmer.
Subaru stared at the open page. The letters were familiar. He could sound out each word. But comprehension? None.
He flipped to the next page, scowling. Still meaningless. "Back in my world, I was only good at STEM subjects..." He mused internally, eyebrows furrowed. "Engineering, coding, physics... But literature? History? Essays? They always fried my brain."
Then— As if fate took pity— A spark lit in his mind.
A wild grin split his face. "EUREKA!" He launched to his feet like a mad inventor.
Fingers snapped. Eyes blazed. "What if I recreated things from my world that don't exist here?!"
He pressed a hand to his chin. The mental gears spun fast. Earth to fantasy.
"This world runs on magic and medieval tech... Even basic stuff like electricity or water pumps could change everything!"
Right on cue— That ever-smug voice echoed in his skull: "I'll admit—you took your sweet time realizing this," Flugel chuckled. "But better late than never."
Subaru grabbed a quill with the enthusiasm of a man possessed. Began scribbling on parchment like a student cramming for a final exam.
"If you knew, why didn't you say so earlier?!" He grumbled, eyebrows nearly crashing into each other.
"Meh. You'd have figured it out eventually." Flugel's tone was breezy, a little too amused for Subaru's comfort.
Subaru sighed, but didn't stop writing. His notes grew more frantic, more inspired. "If I can't master this world's knowledge... then I'll bring my own." And just like that— His new mission was born.
Subaru smirked as he wrote, the corner of his mouth twitching in satisfaction.
"Fair point… Yeah, this could work. Might even change everything."
He leaned over the parchment, sketching a crude yet ambitious design of an electric motor. Though it looked simple, the implications were massive. Beneath the swirling lines and circles, he listed the materials with quick, determined strokes:
-Strong magnet
-Conductive wire
-Lightning (!)
Flugel, watching through the tether of their mental link, hesitated. Then spoke with caution: "Oi. The lightning… Why?"
Subaru responded without missing a beat, his tone carrying the smugness of someone who finally got to show off.
"Magnets might be rare or even impossible to produce with the current metallurgy here. But if I can electrify raw iron, I can create an electromagnet on demand. Electricity gives me the flexibility magic can't."
A pause followed. Then Flugel muttered, more to himself than to Subaru:
"…That's actually logical. If I remember correctly:
Wrap the iron in conductive wire,
Channel the current through it,
Use proper grounding techniques…
And voilà—an improvised magnet."
Subaru blinked at the precision of Flugel's memory. He hadn't expected someone from centuries past to recall electromagnetic theory so clearly. Still, he forged ahead:
"Next question, Flugel—where do we apply this electricity? What powers it?"
No response. Only silence.
Flugel's silence was the answer. Subaru sighed and leaned back, tapping the table with the tip of his quill.
"…Too soon for a power grid, huh? We're barely past water buckets."
Flugel eventually replied, this time thoughtful: "We can implement mechanical systems. Use gears, pulleys, cranks. Leverage rotational force through manual labor. A few workers could do the job of many if we design it right."
Subaru's eyes lit up. "Exactly! Mechanical advantage. So where do we start? Where could we implement gears right away?"
Flugel considered. Then answered: "Water wheels would be traditional, but there's no river close enough. Windmills are more practical in this region. They're still grinding flour by hand here—can you believe that?"
Subaru slammed his fist against the desk with a grin.
"Flugel, you're a GENIUS!" Flugel's mental voice came with a sigh that was equal parts smug and dramatic: "Such is the burden of intellect, Natsuki Subaru."
As their minds fired off new schematics and gear-ratios, the door creaked open slowly.
Ram.
She stepped in, eyes immediately locking onto Subaru's hunched figure over the table, surrounded by ink-stained parchment and wild scrawls of math. Her gaze was sharp at first—likely expecting another ridiculous excuse. But then it softened ever so slightly. His focus… was real.
"Barusu. The meeting is about to begin."
Subaru looked up from his windmill blueprints, dark circles under his eyes but a fire in them nonetheless. He smiled, worn but genuine, as he stood and brushed off his tunic.
"I'll be right there."
Ram gave the briefest of nods and pulled the door closed behind her.
Subaru gave the schematics one last look. The notes and diagrams had started to blur together, but there was a beauty in the chaos—interlocking gear sets, rough torque calculations, hastily estimated friction coefficients. They reminded him of the model kits he used to build in his old life. But this time, it wasn't just a hobby.
This time, it mattered.
He set the pages aside. Stretched with a yawn that cracked his spine. Then—
That voice. Echoing calmly in the corridors of his mind:
"Visit the village soon. Talk to the people. See what they actually need. That's how ideas take root. That's how progress means something."
Flugel's tone had lost its sarcasm. It was honest. Maybe even hopeful. Subaru nodded slowly. "Yeah... I'll remember that."
He turned toward the hallway that led to the main meeting room. His steps weren't slow or dragged—they were firm. Each one felt a little heavier, but also more certain. For the first time in a long time, Subaru wasn't walking just to keep up. He was walking toward something.
All eyes turned as he entered the chamber. The room fell silent.
Subaru bowed politely. "…My apologies for the delay. I was studying the materials Ram provided."
Ram sat near the far end. She offered the smallest of nods in response. A faint glimmer of satisfaction flickered in her eyes. It was approval, the kind she rarely gave.
On the opposite end, Rem gave him a look too—a tiny smile, barely more than a twitch at the corner of her lips. But it was warm. Secret. Radiant. Like a quiet 'I see you.'
Subaru's gaze moved across the table. Emilia sat beside Puck, facing Roswaal. When their eyes met, Subaru's smile came first.
Emilia returned it instantly, eyes filled with trust and just a touch of relief. That small connection between them settled something tight in Subaru's chest.
The empty seat?
Right next to Beatrice. Naturally. Subaru took it without hesitation. He sat down like he belonged there.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Beako," he whispered under his breath.
Beatrice didn't even glance at him. Her nose scrunched in annoyance. "Betty just wants this meeting to be over quickly, I suppose."
Subaru grinned. "Guess that makes two of us." But even as the conversation began around him, his mind was already whirring—of gears, of lightning, of possibility.
And this time, he wasn't just dreaming. He was building.
At that moment, Roswaal cleared his throat with deliberate flair. All attention in the room, like strings tugged by a puppeteer, shifted to him. The stage, as always, belonged to him.
"Thank you all for attendinggg~," he began, his voice oozing theatricality as if this were the opening act of a grand play. "As you are all aware, the Royal Selection Conference—which our dear Lady Emilia will proudly participate in—is set to commence in approximately one month's time."
The room, lively just moments before, instantly turned solemn. The weight of what lay ahead pressed down on everyone like a silent storm cloud.
"This gathering," Roswaal continued, his mismatched eyes gleaming, "is not merely a formality. It is essential. The poise, grace, speech, and etiquette Emilia-sama exhibits before the nobility will be scrutinized and judged. It will not just reflect upon her, but on us all. Our faction's strength, viability, and legitimacy will be on display."
He paused briefly, letting the silence ripple. "Therefore, I request… no, I require that you all prepare accordingly. Let nothing be left to chance."
As the final syllables faded into the room's tension, Subaru quietly raised his hand.
The gesture was simple, but it sliced through the stillness like a dagger. Roswaal tilted his head slightly, a flicker of intrigue passing across his painted face.
"Yes, Subaru-kun? You have the floor."
Subaru inhaled deeply. His heart thudded once—loud, defiant. "Status isn't built solely on how one curtsies, speaks, or dines. I get that those things matter in court. But the real backbone of any ruler—what the people will actually follow—is accomplishment. Things they can see, feel, benefit from."
The room held its breath. Even Ram, so often dismissive of Subaru's interruptions, had her crimson gaze fixed on him. Puck's floating body leaned subtly forward, curious.
And Roswaal… For a single heartbeat, his expression faltered. A muscle at the edge of his mouth twitched. But his voice remained perfectly composed.
"Oh~? If you have an idea, Subaru-kun, why not enlighten us all?"
Subaru didn't flinch. His voice came steady, confident. "Rather than explain it here, I'd rather demonstrate. Which is why… I'd like to visit the village tomorrow."
A ripple of confusion passed through the room. Roswaal's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of his chair. He couldn't read Subaru's full intentions. That made him wary. But not opposed.
His gaze drifted toward Emilia, silently prompting her to weigh in.
Emilia, slightly taken aback, placed a finger on her chin. "Hmm… I suppose I could allow it, Subaru. But I don't think you should go alone. You're still new here, and the villagers might not recognize you. Actually… do you even know the way?"
Subaru's confidence wavered for the first time. Of course he knew the way—he'd been there in several timelines. But admitting that would raise more questions than answers.
"Ah… Right. That's… a very good point."
A short silence followed. Cool and tight, with a subtle undercurrent of amusement.
"You just made a complete ass of yourself," Flugel's voice whispered mockingly in the back of his mind, like a shadow chuckling behind a curtain.
Then—
Rem stepped forward. Her voice, calm and warm as always, cut through the awkward moment:
"If that's the case, I have errands in the village tomorrow. Subaru-kun, if you don't mind, I'd be happy to accompany you."
Subaru's chest filled with a heat that wasn't from embarrassment. In a different setting, he would've hugged her. But now, he merely smiled wide.
"That'd be perfect! Thanks, Rem. Really." His sincerity was unmistakable, and it softened the room.
Even Emilia's lips curled into a smile, her eyes twinkling. "Well then… that sounds like a much safer and smarter arrangement."
Roswaal took back the floor, his tone shifting to diplomatic formality.
"Then it's settled. Thank you all for your presence and insight today. Our preparations shall continue~"
Chairs scraped softly as the meeting dissolved. Everyone began to rise. Subaru turned to leave—
Only to find Ram at his side, gliding with silent precision.
"Barusu. Roswaal-sama wishes to speak with you privately. Once that's concluded… I'll be waiting in your room. Our lesson will begin."
Her voice held its typical frost, but there was a strange gentleness beneath it—something almost like approval.
Subaru gave a small nod. "Thanks, Ram. I'll be there."
As the others filed out, the room slowly emptied until only Roswaal and Subaru remained.
The margrave's posture shifted. The eccentric flourish melted from his body like discarded fabric. What remained was the man behind the paint.
His voice came low and sharp:
"Natsuki Subaru. What exactly are you planning?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. And Subaru… smiled faintly in response.
Subaru exhaled deeply, the weight of truth pressing against his chest. There was no more time for evasion—only honesty remained.
"You know I'm from another world, Roswaal. The Gospel must've told you already. I'm going to recreate simple inventions from my world—things only I know how to build. Things this world has never seen."
He raised his head, meeting Roswaal's gaze without a hint of fear.
"These devices will elevate Emilia's faction. They'll make her people's lives better, easier... and stronger."
His voice firmed, eyes burning with unwavering resolve. "So don't get in my way."
For a single heartbeat, Roswaal stood frozen—his painted smile flickering into something unreadable. Then his eyes narrowed, calculating.
"I cannot deny your efforts benefit Emilia-sama's camp. These... inventions could indeed generate attention, loyalty, and perhaps even substantial income." He tapped his chin, almost amused. "Curious."
Subaru simply nodded. "I'm not asking for permission. I have a lesson with Ram." He turned and left the study without another word.
The hallway was cool and dimly lit, torches crackling along the stone walls. When he arrived at his room, Ram was already waiting inside. She stood by his desk, flipping through his schematics with a raised eyebrow.
"Barusu," she said without looking up, "explain these."
He didn't hesitate. Not anymore. These were no longer secret weapons—they were promises.
"Devices. Tools. Ideas to make daily life easier for the people. If we want to build trust and gain support for Emilia, we need to show we understand what the common folk need."
Ram's eyes finally lifted to meet his, sharp and assessing. After a long pause, she nodded.
"So this is your contribution... To think such vision hid behind your usual idiocy. It's..."—her voice softened just slightly—"commendable, Barusu."
Flugel's voice crackled in Subaru's mind with unbearable smugness: "You're welcome~"
Subaru groaned internally. "Can we just start the lesson now?"
And so began two hours of intense study. Ram drilled him mercilessly—Lugunica's formal dialect, archaic phrasing, royal protocol. His progress with the language was startling. Words came easier than they should have, as if echoing from some half-remembered dream.
But history?
Subaru dozed off fifteen times. Once during the founding of the Kingdom, thrice during the Dragon Treaty, and five times while she explained the Royal Selection's previous candidates. Each time, Ram jabbed him awake with her pen or thwacked his forehead with the edge of the book.
By the end of the session, his hair was sticking out in odd directions, and ink smudged half his notes. But he endured. And when it was over, he stood, bowed deeply, and said, "Thank you, Sensei."
Ram raised an eyebrow—and almost, almost smiled.
"You learn quickly when you want to, Barusu. We'll continue tomorrow. But if you fall asleep during history again..."
She stepped forward and tapped the spine of the textbook against his chin.
"I'll feed you the book. Page by page."
Subaru laughed despite himself. As Ram turned to leave, her usual stoic mask didn't quite hide the faint curve of approval on her lips.
Alone again, Subaru returned to his desk. The schematics lay where she had left them—sketches of windmill gears, simple pulley systems, and an early draft of a hand-crank grinder.
He picked up his pencil and resumed work, his movements mechanical, mind humming. His eyes scanned torque values and gear ratios, but gradually the numbers blurred.
His pencil slipped. Eyelids drooped.
But this time, there was no dread. No spiral of self-loathing.
This time, he drifted off with a faint smile.
He dreamed of gears turning. And the first thing he'd ever built with his own hands—a moment, in this world or another, that made him feel... capable.
And somewhere, just faintly, a whisper: "You're doing better than you think."
(A/N: let's make a deal. Give me your Power Stones. Get new chapter)