She entered the room like a wave of sweet perfume and carefully balanced numbers. Elegant, smiling, confident—just like during the ceremony.
The smile of a woman who smelled a good deal.
A deal of coin, without a doubt.
At her side walked a man in his prime, dressed with the restraint of powerful people.
Crusch recognized him immediately, surprised.
Crusch (low, slightly tense):
"Russell Fellow..."
Anastasia (sing-song, falsely innocent):
"Don't forget we're here too."
Crusch (coldly):
"Are you speaking on Emilia's behalf? Or Roswaal's?"
Anastasia:
"Actually… more on behalf of the maid."
Rem gave a slight, almost embarrassed nod.
Guts stared at her a moment, brow furrowed.
Another secret?
They're still hiding things from me. Am I really just their puppet?
Anastasia (resuming, composed):
"I don't know all the details. But I'm counting on this expedition.
The White Whale is a scourge for merchants like me.
Naturally, my personal guard will take part."
Russell Fellow (with a salesman's smile):
"And more than the Whale, it's the road I'm watching.
A new trade route supported by magical ore circulation… That's an opportunity no one can ignore."
Guts, by now, had stopped listening.
Merchants, roads, divisions, contracts…
That wasn't his world.
What he saw in his mind was something else.
A massive, impossible form, white and looming.
A Whale. On land.
An abomination defying the order of nature.
A shiver—not of fear, but excitement.
Guts (cutting in, direct):
"And the Whale? Do you know anything more about it?"
A silence fell.
Just one second—but enough to betray something.
Guts froze. He'd just slipped.
He who had claimed to know the target… was asking for details.
A misstep.
But Anastasia, smooth as ever, broke the tension:
Anastasia (playful):
"Mmm… So you don't know much after all, do you?
White. Gigantic. Terrifying. And, until now, unkillable."
Guts (calm, masking his mistake):
"That's enough.
I've seen worse. She won't be the first to fall to my blade."
Crusch watched him. He wasn't lying.
And yet… it all sounded too perfect.
A flawless letter.
An alliance served on a silver platter.
A suddenly proactive Emilia.
Anastasia arriving as if it had all been planned.
And even this warrior—Guts—clearly didn't know everything.
She sensed something was slipping through her fingers.
But that gaze…
That gaze didn't lie.
Crusch (murmuring to herself):
"Everything's too smooth… but he's not lying."
Ferris (lightly mocking):
"Crusch-sama has a blessing, you know.
The Blessing of Clarity. She senses lies."
Guts (dark, sarcastic):
"I don't believe in blessings. Too convenient to be real."
Crusch stood, calm and poised.
A silent message. The meeting was over.
Guts followed the motion, extended his arm.
Their hands met.
She was straight-backed and composed.
He, towering and grim.
But in that suspended moment—a handshake. An alliance. A pact.
The tension finally eased.
It was visible on their faces—a subtle but real release.
A shared breath, as if each was slowly reconnecting with their body.
Anastasia (already turning toward the exit):
"Anyway… When it comes to the expedition's supplies, don't forget to favor my firm."
She left the room, followed by Russell Fellow, as quiet as when he had entered.
Crusch, still upright, looked at Guts with curiosity.
Crusch:
"You're a surprising man, Guts. I never thought someone like you would end up on Emilia's side."
Guts didn't respond. He didn't know what to say.
He wasn't here to surprise. Just to kill a beast.
It was Wilhelm who stepped forward, slowly.
His gaze had changed.
Less distant. Less guarded.
More… sincere.
Wilhelm (with a low, steady voice):
"Sir Guts. I thank you. I am as grateful to you as I am to my mistress, Duchess Crusch Karsten.
Given your insight, you've probably already guessed it… but allow me to introduce myself properly. My full name is Wilhelm van Astrea."
Astrea…
The name stirred something in Guts. A familiar impression.
He'd heard it somewhere before… A title, a rumor, a memory just out of reach.
Wilhelm:
"I married the previous Sword Saint: Theresia van Astrea. It's thanks to her that I joined this noble line.
But today… I'm just an old soldier.
A man living to honor a promise.
And that monster, that White Whale… it took everything from me."
He bowed deeply. A full bow. Rare humility.
He wasn't playing. He wasn't cloaking himself in honor.
He bowed to another man who had also lost everything.
Guts (after a moment, softly):
"I felt it, old man.
You carry the same kind of chains as I do.
So yeah.
We'll kill it together."
He gave him a smile.
Rough. Dry. But real.
A sincere respect.
Warrior to warrior.
They then left the room with lighter steps, as if a weight had lifted from their shoulders.
In the corridor, Guts turned to Rem.
Guts:
"Roswaal's the one who told you to see Anastasia, I suppose."
Rem:
"Yes… I didn't tell you. I'm sorry."
Guts:
"Don't worry. For now, we're his puppets.
But I'll make sure he remembers I've got my own rules."
Rem lowered her eyes.
She found no reply.
Guts's gaze was harsh, but filled with raw sincerity.
She wanted to talk to him, understand what he truly felt.
But deep down… she was afraid.
She stayed silent.
And they parted ways.