Satoru let out a sharp sigh, his eyes fixed on his palm as he strolled back toward the tavern.
Failed Reversal Red yet again. And even let that lady get away too.
He flexed his fingers, an uncharacteristic frown on his face.
I've got Blue down perfectly, but the output for Red is still messy. Shoko's even worse at explaining this stuff than I am, and that's saying something... she's impossible to understand.
He glanced up from his hand, surveying the slums. The dilapidated shacks looked even more miserable under the pale moonlight.
Well, it probably would've been a pain to explain the property damage if it had actually worked. Next time, I guess.
He shoved his hands back into his pockets, his posture returning to that effortless, slouching arrogance that defined him.
—————————————
Inside the ruins of the loot house, the atmosphere was thick with a different kind of tension.
Sitting beside the massive, unconscious body of Old Man Rom, Subaru watched in awe as a pale haze of mana gathered around Emilia's palms. The light was soft and rhythmic, knitting torn flesh back together at an impossible speed.
That is seriously... cool...
Subaru thought, his heart still hammering against his ribs.
Whenever my training arc finally drops, I'm definitely learning stuff like that... definitely.
He tilted his head toward the figure standing guard by the hole in the wall.
"So, your friend... is he gonna be alright?"
The Sword Saint peered out into the darkness, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Satoru? There is something entirely unfamiliar about him, but yes. I am certain he will be fine; I wouldn't have let him face the Bowel Hunter on his own if I didn't believe he'd have the ability to do so, after all."
As if on cue, the world outside shattered.
An otherworldly, terrifying crimson hue flooded through the gaps in the wall. For a split second, the grimy interior of the loot house was bathed in a violent red glare, lighting up the night sky like a dying star before snapping out of existence just as fast.
"W-What was that?!"
Subaru yelped, nearly toppling backward off the giant's chest.
He wasn't the only one rattled. Emilia's hands faltered, her violet eyes wide. Felt, clutching her stolen insignia in the corner, looked like a stray cat ready to bolt.
But the one with the widest eyes was the Sword Saint.
Reinhard's breath hitched.
"That... magic... it's not——"
His hand twitched instinctively toward the hilt of the Dragon Sword.
Huh, it must've been seriously badass if it's got the overpowered guy gawking.
Subaru mused, wiping a streak of cold sweat from his forehead.
But Subaru didn't understand, of course he didn't.
Reinhard wasn't gawking at the raw power——he was accustomed to world-ending strength, after all.
"Satoru, the civilians!" The red-haired Sword Saint yelled.
He was reacting to the nature of it. To Reinhard, a man unconditionally loved by the world, that flash of red felt like a violent contradiction. It didn't pull from the atmosphere. It didn't flow from a Gate.
It was as if the very laws of space had been folded by a force that Od Lagna entirely rejected.
A moment later, Satoru appeared atop a jagged pile of rubble.
Silhouetted by the moon, he looked more like a bored tourist than a combatant.
"Yo. I'm back. She slipped away, so that's my bad."
As the white-haired teenager slid down the debris, Reinhard stepped forward.
"Worry not, Satoru," Reinhard said, his voice instantly returning to its calm, reassuring cadence. "I imagine the outcome would have been no different had I crossed blades with her. She has been notoriously persistent."
"Heh, well, whatever," Satoru said. His expression flipped from a mock-pout to a carefree, toothy grin. "Since I did all the heavy lifting, surely one of you knows where a guy can get a decent dessert around here? I'm starving, and if I don't get sugar soon, I might actually have to start being productive."
Subaru blinked, finally finding his voice.
"You... you just pulled off some crazy, physics-defying ultimate move, and now you want cake?! Crap... am I really not the main character? That was totally hero-arrival material!"
"I have no idea what nonsense you're babbling about, but we all have our priorities. Don't be rude." Satoru replied dismissively.
"So... it's really over?"
Subaru muttered. He looked toward Emilia, reaching out instinctively as she swayed, the sheer exhaustion of the night finally catching up to her.
Emilia blinked, noticing his intense stare.
"W-Why are you looking at me like that?"
"A-Ah." Subaru coughed, looking away awkwardly. "Well, it's just... you still have your arms, legs, and head! It's a miracle!"
"Eh? Of course I do... please don't say such scary things...!" Emilia replied, genuinely bewildered.
Clasping his hands together, Subaru nodded fervently.
"Right! I also have my arms, and I haven't been sliced open, nor is there a hole in my gut! Life is great!"
Emilia tilted her head.
"You speak as if you've experienced those things before."
"Agh... my manners!" Subaru suddenly shifted into a dramatic, sweeping stance, pointing a finger toward the gaping hole in the ceiling. "Natsuki Subaru is my name! The one who sought your insignia and fought a heinous villain just to help you! Wouldn't this mean you should repay me in kind?"
"Heh... reaaal smooth~" Gojo chimed in from the back, much to Subaru's dismay.
Emilia recoiled slightly at the bizarre display, but her expression softened.
"A-Alright. If it's within my power, I will... but please don't ask for anything ridiculous."
"In that case... I have one request." Subaru's tone dropped, striving for a cool factor that didn't quite land. "I'd like to know your name."
Emilia looked startled. She nearly burst into a surprised laugh before giving him a soft, incredibly warm smile.
"Emilia. My name is Emilia. Thank you for helping me, Subaru."
Just what kind of world have I been summoned into?
Satoru thought with a huff. But behind his dark lenses, the Six Eyes remained fixed on Subaru for a beat longer than necessary.
Something is definitely off with this guy.
Subaru turned back toward Satoru and Reinhard, his face flushed.
"Thanks, you two! You really saved our skins... literally!"
"I simply stumbled across Satoru and felt a disturbance," Reinhard replied with a gentle smile. "We came as fast as we could."
Satoru didn't respond. He was staring at Subaru.
I already got the vibe this guy was from Japan, but...
Like a glitch in reality, Satoru vanished from his spot and reappeared mere inches from Subaru's face.
"Huh... that's funny, real funny." Gojo murmured.
He was seeing it now. Beneath the boy's frantic, exhausting exterior, Subaru's soul was drenched in something dark. A swirling, dense vortex of dormant, stagnant energy that felt sickeningly familiar, yet entirely contradictory to this world's mana.
This guy... he's coated in a ridiculous amount of Cursed Energy.
"Eh...? What——is there something on my face?" Subaru stammered, flustered by the sudden lack of personal space.
"Mmm... something like that. We'll talk about it later."
Before Subaru could react, Satoru's index finger tapped the center of his forehead. A microscopic spark of cursed energy surged.
Subaru's eyes immediately rolled back.
Satoru caught the unconscious teenager as he slumped forward, hoisting him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"B-But... why?" she gasped.
"It's for his own good. His adrenaline was about to crash, and with those wounds, he'd be in agonizing pain in about three minutes."
It definitely wasn't just because he wanted to keep the strange, cursed boy close for observation. Definitely not.
"I could have healed him with my Spirit Arts——" Emilia protested, her brow furrowing.
"I dunno what that is, but I'm saying he needs actual rest." Satoru waved off, glancing over at Reinhard.
Reinhard stepped forward, his posture strictly professional.
"Emilia-sama, may I ask... what is your relationship with Subaru?"
"An... acquaintance. I don't believe I met him before today..." she replied.
"I see. He told me he was looking for you to return something." Reinhard noted, before looking at Satoru.
"Ah, well... I don't actually have a place to live, you know? Real new around these parts," Satoru said casually. "Could I bring Subaru along with me to your place? I want to keep an eye on him."
Reinhard, ever-hospitable despite Gojo's obvious arrogance, nodded.
"I would be glad to host you both at the Astrea mansion."
Emilia shook her head.
"No... I'll be taking Subaru with me... I insist! I have things I need to ask him, after all. More importantly, Reinhard, what will become of those two?" She gestured to Rom and Felt.
"I cannot overlook what they've done officially. But... I am off duty today," Reinhard said, a subtle, deliberate mercy in his voice.
Felt looked at Emilia, all her previous bravado stripped away.
"I... I'm sorry. You saved my life. I'll return what I took."
She pulled the shining insignia from her pocket and held it out. Emilia reached for it, but her grip was clumsy from severe mana exhaustion. The insignia slipped through her fingers, tumbling toward the floorboards.
Satoru didn't even bother bending down. He simply gestured. A miniature vacuum of space pulled the insignia smoothly into his palm.
Neat little trinket. Don't understand almost dying over it, though.
As Satoru held it out to hand it back, a hand suddenly clamped around his forearm. It wasn't a violent grab, but the grip was terrifyingly absolute——the kind of pressure that signaled an immovable object.
"...Reinhard?" Satoru mused, raising a brow.
What the hell has got the OP guy so spooked?
"Satoru... apologies, but I will need you to come with me. Now."
"Eh? I mean... I guess that's fine. What's the big deal?"
"That, I will explain shortly," Reinhard said, his voice dropping into a tone of absolute, unbreakable seriousness.
Satoru shrugged, dropping the insignia into Emilia's hand and unceremoniously depositing Subaru on the floor beside her.
"He'd probably rather wake up next to you anyway..." Satoru muttered, ignoring the fact he'd just kidnapped and un-kidnapped the boy in the span of three minutes.
A shame. I wanted to poke at that Cursed Energy. Oh well, always tomorrow.
Reinhard bowed deeply.
"Farewell, Emilia-sama. I hope your return to the Mathers domain is safe."
"Thank you... and you too, Gojo-san," Emilia said, looking up at the towering sorcerer. "If not for you two, things would have ended terribly."
Satoru just waved her off without looking back.
"Don't sweat it. I already know I'm awesome."
———————————————
Hours later, the rich interior of the Astrea dragon carriage rattled softly as it cruised toward the noble district.
Reinhard had been maddeningly silent. Every time Satoru poked for answers, the Sword Saint simply insisted they wait until they were secure.
Is it that little display against the stomach, lady?
Satoru wondered, leaning his head against the velvet window frame.
Maybe he's just obsessed with my technique. Can't blame him. Maybe he wants to know my haircare routine, too.
"Ahem..."
Reinhard coughed, intentionally breaking the silence.
"I do apologize for the secrecy, Satoru-sama. Truly. It is simply not something that can be spoken of in a place as porous as the slums."
"Finally! You're gonna explain?"
Satoru practically cheered.
"And seriously, again, stop with the 'Satoru-sama'. Keep the honorifics to a minimum. It makes my skin crawl."
Reinhard nodded, his expression shifting into something suffocatingly heavy.
"You, Satoru... are the fifth and final candidate for the throne of Lugunica."
Satoru's brain processed the sentence.
Fifth candidate. Throne. Lugunica.
"———"
"——?"
"Wait, what now...?!"
The carriage swayed violently as Satoru bolted upright.
"How?! Since when?! I've been in this world for like, six hours! I don't even know what your money looks like!" He fell back against the cushions, huffing a breath of pure disbelief. "Look, first off: I know nothing about this place. Second: I haven't done anything to deserve a throne. I'm just a guy passing through!"
It's not like I want to lay low,but if being king means I have to answer to a bunch of wrinkled, stinking old geezers again, count me the hell out!
He could already hear the Jujutsu higher-ups nagging him from across dimensions. Well, at least the idea that they must be panicking badly about his disappearance shines some positive light into things.
Reinhard remained perfectly calm, his gaze soft with absolute certainty.
"I understand your confusion. But the Dragon Insignia glowed with a crimson light the moment it touched your palm. That is the ultimate proof. You have been chosen by the Divine Dragon, Volcanica."
Chosen by a damn lizard? I might have to go find this thing and give it a piece of my mind.
Satoru grimaced, rubbing his temples. The information overload from the Six Eyes made the reality of kingship feel even more claustrophobic.
"So... I don't exactly have a choice, do I?"
Reinhard shook his head solemnly.
"I apologize... but no. The Royal Selection must be completed."
Satoru groaned. The absolute last thing he wanted was to become a politician. The idea of royal decorum made him want to vomit.
Plus, if I tank my chances on purpose while Reinhard is looking at me with those painfully earnest puppy-dog eyes, I'll feel like a jerk. Argh!
"Mmmm... fine," Satoru sighed, waving a dismissive hand. "But we're setting ground rules. First: we're friends, Reinhard. No honorifics, no bowing. I can see how strong you are—it literally hurts my eyes to look at you—but acting like a doormat just lets people walk all over you."
Reinhard's cerulean eyes widened slightly.
"Friends?" Reinhard whispered, tasting the word as if it were a foreign concept he had never been allowed to learn. "V... Very well. I shall do as you say, Satoru."
Satoru grinned, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Good. Besides, I'm a nobody with no backing. The chances of me actually winning are zero anyway. Which is perfect."
The carriage floorboards suddenly groaned under a massive surge of pressure.
"——Eh?"
Satoru opened his eyes. Reinhard was no longer sitting on the opposite bench. The Sword Saint had dropped to the floor, resting on one knee, his head bowed low in a perfect, solemn knight's salute.
"I may not be able to live up to your expectations... but if you would have me," Reinhard's voice rang with a sincerity so heavy it felt physical, "I, the Sword Saint of Lugunica, hereby swear fealty to the fifth candidate, Satoru Gojo. I promise to serve as your knight until the day you succeed."
Satoru could only stare.
What the hell... I'd be lying if I didn't say this was seriously embarrassing. How am I supposed to say no to that?
"A-Ahem..." Satoru sat up straight, clearing his throat. He effortlessly slipped into the authoritative cadence expected of the Gojo clan head. "Then I, the fifth candidate, welcome Reinhard van Astrea as my knight. Try not to make it too boring, okay?"
He smirked to himself as the carriage rolled on.
Formality is lame as hell, but I never said I was bad at it. Actually... I'm not bad at anything, am I?
Then, his smile twitched.
"Wait, what did I just say?! Get off the floor! No bowing!"