Slums
Lillian moved through the area with his sword at his side. Dilapidated houses lined the streets, and shadowy corners held many curious eyes. It was certainly a dangerous place.
His purpose for coming here was singular: he wanted to "buy favor" from the strongest warrior in this world—the sword saint Reinhard.
Undoubtedly, as a character personally favored by the author, Reinhard's combat power was near the apex of this world. And frighteningly, this was before he had fully matured… Lillian had every reason to build a good relationship with such a key figure.
To gain favor with Reinhard, Lillian knew he had to start with Felt. It was known that Reinhard would eventually support Felt in the royal selection as her knight, so changing events before her first death would be advantageous.
The first time Subaru and Emilia arrived, it had already been too late—Felt and Rom had been killed, teaching Subaru the utility of his ability: trading death for information.
Now that Lillian had arrived, he acted entirely for himself. Resolving matters before their arrival fit his interests, even if it delayed Subaru's mastery of his abilities. Lillian had no concern for Subaru anyway.
It was late afternoon, approaching dusk. The slum's layout was chaotic, with strange, haphazard buildings. Finding his destination on his own could take until nightfall, which would be too late. So when he saw a group of children playing in the dirt, he approached them.
"Hello," Lillian said. "I have a question for you."
The children looked at him cautiously. Only one spoke: "We don't know."
"Don't be so wary—I'm not a bad person." Lillian pulled a gold coin from his pocket. In the evening sunlight, it gleamed brightly. "If you tell me where 'Rom' lives, this coin is yours."
"Ah!" The four children's eyes lit up. Even divided among four, this coin was a substantial reward for slum kids. They scrambled to their feet, eagerly giving directions to Rom's house. After all, Rom was a giant—hard to miss in the human settlement.
Lillian handed them the coin and continued onward. He had earned plenty from selling Subaru's phone—a magical device in high demand. The shop traded it for twenty holy coins, convertible to forty gold coins, enough for him to live for a while.
---
Following the children's directions, it took him about fifteen minutes to reach an especially dilapidated area. A deep crimson door with two knock rings marked Rom's house, exactly as described.
Lillian pushed it open. The old wood groaned. Inside, a deep, rough voice called, "Who goes there?"
"A guest," Lillian replied, closing the door behind him. Behind the counter stood a tall, bald, muscular man, his long white eyebrows giving him a comical look. This was Cromwell, commonly called Rom—a giant warrior.
Rom raised an eyebrow. "A guest? I haven't seen you before. Did someone send you?"
"Something like that," Lillian said, sitting at the counter. Rom, puzzled by the young man's presence, poured him a glass of water.
"For dealing with the big rats?" Rom asked.
"…Since I'm already here, we can skip the silly code words." Lillian sipped the cold, crisp water.
"Boring, aren't you, kid?" Rom shook his head. "What do you want?"
"The goods haven't arrived yet," Lillian said casually. "Today's 'loot.'"
"Today's?" Rom raised an eyebrow. How does this kid know about today's loot? Maybe Felt stole something from him? Rom noticed the sword at Lillian's waist and instinctively straightened a bit.
Lillian felt the tension but ignored it. He knew Rom had been formidable in his youth, a famous giant warrior, perhaps a leader in the Demi-Human Wars. But age had come for all—even strong men. Rom was no longer what he used to be; otherwise, he wouldn't have been so easily taken down by the Hunters.
With Felt not yet back, Lillian asked, "Rom, do you have any good weapons? A fine sword, maybe?"
"A fine sword?" Rom shook his head. "That girl hardly manages to get such things, and nobody would buy them anyway. Wearing such conspicuous loot risks being recognized by the original owner."
"True."
"Want a fine sword? Try the Hoshin Trading Company. The price is outrageous, though."
"Haxin, huh." Lillian thought of one of the five royal candidates, Anastasia Hoshin—the seemingly childlike head of a trading company who actually sees all, greedy and cunning inside.
A knock came at the door. Rom exchanged a secret signal with a young girl's voice outside before opening it.
The small blonde girl entered, noticing Lillian. "Rom, who's this guy?"
"Hmm… a guest," Rom replied. Lillian wasn't the original owner; Felt didn't recognize him, so Rom grew curious how he knew about today's stolen goods.
"A guest, huh?" she yawned. "So tiring… the original owner chased me nearly catching me today." She approached the counter. "What do you want, young man?"
"I want to buy what you stole today," Lillian said.
Felt's face darkened. "You…"
"The gem-encrusted badge," Lillian continued. "It should be on you now."
"Eh? I don't know how you know…" Felt handed over the badge. "Yes, this is today's loot."
Rom inspected it briefly and nodded. Felt's shrewd smile appeared. "This is high-quality, gem-set work. I worked hard to get it. If you want it, you'll need to pay a fair price."
"Is that so…" Lillian studied her. Suddenly he asked, "Felt, do you know the origin of this badge?"
"Origin?"
"Yes. If you knew, you might be terrified. A thief caught stealing it won't end well."
Felt and Rom exchanged cautious glances. Rom finally asked, "Kid, are you looking for trouble?"
"No, no trouble," Lillian waved, "just making sure you understand its importance. I still want to buy it." He offered, "How about 15 holy coins?"
"15?!" Felt's eyes lit up. She was tempted but didn't accept—this was someone else's commission. Rom, however, couldn't help but ask, "Kid, do you know the badge's origin?"
"I'm afraid if I tell you, you might refuse to sell it."
"Hmph. Are you trying to scare me?" Felt crossed her arms and lifted her chin. "I'm not afraid. I've stolen things from great nobles before, you know!"
"Is that so?" Lillian smiled faintly. "Then let me put it simply, in one sentence. That insignia is a qualification to participate in the Royal Selection."
"The Royal… Selection?"
Their expressions changed instantly—and at the very same moment, a knock sounded on the wooden door.
Knock, knock, knock.