The sharp cry came from his right. Lillian first glanced at the sky outside. When he had arrived earlier, it had been early morning, the dew still heavy. Now sunlight filled the grounds—it was already afternoon.
I actually read for that long…
He turned toward the voice. A petite figure in a maid outfit stood there, her pink hair covering one eye, the visible one filled with deep vigilance and hostility.
When she saw his face as he turned, Ram paused slightly.
"…Lillian?"
"It's me. Hello, Ram."
He had intended to come quietly and leave quietly, yet he had unexpectedly run into the "older sister." This was certainly not a good development.
Unlike Lillian's sense of regret, Ram spoke with puzzlement, "Why are you here? And…"
She did not finish her sentence, but Lillian understood her meaning: he had arrived uninvited. The fact that she did not directly accuse him of trespassing was only out of consideration for their previous meeting. Even so, he could clearly feel the hostility emanating from her.
Is it because Roswaal told her I ruined his plans?
After the Royal Selection meeting had ended, Roswaal had likely returned to the mansion first before departing again. It was only natural that he might have said something to Ram during that time, since the two frequently engaged in "mana replenishment." Of course, this kind of mana replenishment was not what one might imagine—it was entirely wholesome and perfectly acceptable.
As a member of the oni race, Ram had originally possessed a horn on her head that absorbed magical power. However, in a tragedy years ago, that horn had been severed. She was later rescued by Roswaal, who possessed mastery over the four elemental attributes of magic and could therefore provide her with mana through balanced infusion. Having been saved in a moment of crisis and supported with mana for years, she naturally felt unwavering loyalty toward him.
Under such circumstances, her attitude toward Lillian—who had interfered with Roswaal's plans—was easy to imagine.
It was worth mentioning that Ram, when she still had her horn, was extraordinarily powerful, surpassed only by the Witch of Envy Satella and the Sword Saint Reinhard. After losing her horn, however, her strength had diminished to only a fraction of its former level. She could no longer fight for extended periods, and her stamina and mana were consumed at an astonishing rate.
"I came to see Beatrice," Lillian said. "I didn't break in. If you don't believe me, you can ask her. Hey, Beatrice—come out and explain."
There was no response. Beatrice did not appear.
"In any case, trespassing into the Margrave's mansion is not something you should do," Ram said coldly. "For the sake of the help you once gave the villagers of Mathers in eliminating magical beasts, this matter will not be pursued. Please leave at once."
Thud, thud, thud!
Footsteps sounded rapidly, and soon Rem hurried over.
"Sister, what's wrong?" she asked, then noticed Lillian as well. "It's you…" She still remembered him and looked at him curiously, unsure why he had appeared here.
"Alright, I'll leave now."
Faced with such open hostility, Lillian had no intention of staying. After taking a few steps, he paused.
"Oh, right. I might come again tomorrow… or perhaps the day after."
"What?"
The matter of Sloth had clearly not yet been resolved. Lillian did not know whether any of the Witch Cultists he had killed were "Fingers." If none of them were, then Sloth effectively still possessed "nine lives," and those who had died were merely insignificant pawns, incapable of affecting the overall situation.
That meant their plan to attack the village and the mansion would continue. It would never change because of Lillian or Elsa. After all, in Sloth's eyes, reviving Satella was the highest priority—everything else came afterward.
Should he intervene in this matter?
The answer was certain.
If he did nothing, the villagers would be slaughtered, and Emilia would not escape death. The same would be true for Rem, Ram, and Subaru.
At that time, he would trigger a rollback again—Lillian did not want that to happen now, especially since Elsa had not died. Otherwise, even without the Witch Cult taking action, Subaru would already be a corpse by this point.
If one insisted on naming any benefit that rolling back might offer Lillian, it would probably be the chance to read more books at Beatrice's place—using the same stretch of time to absorb more knowledge. But such a minor advantage was hardly worth redoing everything from the beginning, repeating every action and every conversation. It was simply too troublesome.
That was why he had to return—but he did not want to come back alone. No matter how strong a single person might be, their power was limited, and it was easy to lose sight of one thing while attending to another. Just as the Sword Saint, no matter how powerful—even capable of slaying the Divine Dragon—still wielded far less influence than the Dragon itself. The reason was simple: the Sword Saint was human, while the Dragon was, in a sense, a god.
A human could kill, but a god could do more than that. With its blood, a god could restore barren land to life; with its mana, it could eradicate plagues—things no human could achieve.
The same principle applied here. These Witch Cult foot soldiers, whether fighting together or taking turns in battle, were no match for Lillian individually. Yet they could split into multiple groups—attacking the village on one side while assaulting the mansion on the other. Lillian alone could not be everywhere at once. In such situations, a group was always more effective than a single person.
As for whether anyone would be willing to help, Lillian could not be entirely certain, but he already had a few candidates in mind. If he failed to persuade one, he would try another. Surely not everyone would refuse.
Another reason was simply that he did not want to see the village slaughtered. When he had visited before, the villagers had treated him with great warmth. Petra's father had even let him stay in his home free of charge. Lillian did not wish to see those people die. If he had the ability, he would certainly try to save them.
As for time, judging by the current situation, there was still enough. Traveling through the night without sleep would not be a problem. For now, however, Ram and Rem did not understand his intentions; they merely frowned as they watched him leave.
"Sister, what did he come here for?" Rem asked.
"He said he came to see Beatrice-sama…" Ram replied as she walked to the bedroom Lillian had just exited and opened the door. Inside was nothing more than an ordinary guest room. In her view, there was no reason for him to lie—otherwise, why would he come here for no reason?
Even so, because Roswaal had once described Lillian as "a troublesome fellow," Ram, as his loyal retainer, naturally held no favorable opinion of Lillian.
Rem, on the other hand, only half understood the situation. She did not know why her sister harbored such hostility toward him. After thinking for a moment, she said, "Then, Sister—he said he might come again tomorrow or the day after. Should we prepare anything?"
"No need," Ram replied, shaking her head. "If he harbors ill intentions, I will naturally take responsibility for defending the mansion."
"Rem will help too!"
---
Meanwhile, Lillian—who had been treated as a hypothetical enemy—left the mansion and hurried toward the royal capital at full speed. The sky gradually darkened as he traveled. The vast plains were empty, and the only sound was the steady pounding of the ground beneath the running earth dragon.
"Spirits… transforming humans into half-spirits… the key is successfully extracting the human soul and implanting it into a spirit's soul crystal…"
During his journey, Lillian once again found himself recalling the contents of the book he had read. It was undoubtedly a mad undertaking—if it failed, one would be utterly destroyed, body and soul erased forever. If other methods existed, he would never even consider such a path. But if there truly was no alternative, then it would remain a final, uncertain contingency…
Lost in thought, Lillian suddenly came back to his senses and looked ahead. The plain before him had grown strangely dark. He lifted his head to the sky—where countless stars had once shone over the land, there was now nothing. A bizarre mist had spread at some unknown moment, obscuring the moon and stars and enveloping the surroundings.
Could it be—?!
Realization struck him, and his expression darkened. As if confirming his suspicion, an inhuman cry echoed through the air.
Woooo—