A person's nature is hard to change once formed. Radical change usually requires extreme stimuli, and death—especially repeated deaths—is certainly enough.
Previously, with Rem by his side, Subaru could maintain relative rationality and grow even after multiple deaths. Now, alone, repeated deaths could twist his personality toward ruin.
Lillian and Subaru were not a fate-bound pair, but Lillian could not tolerate this derailment. Events must proceed under his observation and control, or they would be wasted. Furthermore, the mechanism of the Return power seemed suspect. In the original timeline, each return made Subaru's mental image of the Jealous Witch clearer. Would there be a limit? Or would repeated returns cause the witch to resurrect?
This instability was a ticking time bomb. Lillian's goal was to delay it. Even if an explosion was inevitable, he needed it to happen after gaining enough power. He would preemptively solve the disasters Subaru would have faced.
Lillian sighed inwardly. Subaru's classic line: "Even if you forget me, I will never forget you." In this case, however, it was: "Even if you're still an immature child, I'll handle things for you first." First, he had to deal with the immediate issues, then tackle the rest. After the meeting, he needed to speak with Reinhard—if he could enlist his help, everything would become simpler.
Turning away from Subaru, Lillian focused forward. After a heated exchange, the meeting finally moved to the main topic.
"The Dragon Covenant records all candidates, but it does not specify the selection method," said Miklotov from the head seat. "To resolve this, let us first ask each candidate about their resolve."
Priscilla stepped forward first. Her words matched her haughty character: "Boring as it may be, I will comply. Old relics over there, just obey me. By following me, the kingdom will surely progress in the right direction."
"Oh… such arrogance…"
The sages were displeased, but Priscilla interrupted before anyone could speak: "Mediocre folk need not comment." She raised a folding fan to conceal her curved red lips, leaving only dangerous eyes visible. "The Bloody Bride is terrifying."
The words "Bloody Bride" caused a momentary silence. After a brief pause, Miklotov cleared his throat. "Ahem… Lady Priscilla, your surname is 'Barielle'. But Leip Barielle—"
"Is already dead."
Priscilla spoke with a blank expression: "He became a fool unable to distinguish reality from dreams six months ago and only recently died suddenly."
"So… what was your relationship?"
"Only a deceased husband, I suppose," Priscilla said casually. "He never touched a single finger of mine. We were connected only by name. That old lecher's sole purpose was to leave everything he accumulated to me; whether he lived or died was irrelevant."
Her frank cruelty cut through the room. To witness someone inherit a fortune yet treat her late husband with such disdain, many could not help but think she had married Leip Barielle solely to claim his estate. It was a harsh judgment, but with both parties willing, no one could argue—especially given Priscilla's standing, which silenced any objection.
Lillian, listening from behind, could not help but glance at Al. That boy and the pink-haired youth, Schult, were probably connected to the old magnate's death—but no one had proof.
"Just to add, those who pledge allegiance to our princess will be rewarded, as long as it doesn't go against her wishes," Priscilla's knight, Al, interjected. "Our princess is favored by the heavens. That old man… Leip, let's say his lands prospered rapidly after her taking charge—you all know this, right?"
Everyone nodded. Indeed, the territory had flourished under Priscilla, and the people there regarded her as a divine blessing, showing her complete loyalty and support.
This display of capability stirred ambition in many. After all, this was the essence of a candidate's speech—to inspire support with promises and vision.
"Next, let Lord Crusch speak," Marco said, and a poised, confident woman stepped forward.
Compared to the other candidates, Crusch exuded reliability and purpose. Her words were measured yet passionate, commanding attention.
"The Dragon Kingdom of Lugunica, under the dragon's protection, avoids war, famine, and plague. Through dragon's breath we can vanquish foes; through dragon's mana we can cure disease; through dragon's blood we can revive barren lands—doesn't this make you ashamed?"
Her abrupt shift stunned the audience. Yet Crusch remained composed, continuing to speak firmly.
"I know what expectations you place on me. My house, the Karsten family, is respected in court. If I continue, the nation will prosper—but I cannot."
"…You mean?"
"We can no longer rely on the dragons' favor. Their gifts breed complacency, complacency leads to decadence, and decadence will sound the kingdom's death knell."
"Nonsense! You mean the kingdom will perish?" an sage objected.
"No. If the kingdom will fall without dragons, then we shall become the dragons. All that the kingdom relied upon from them must be carried by king and citizens alike. If the people strive to be strong, each like a dragon, there will be no need for external aid."
Her words eroded many loyal votes, yet those who chose to follow her would be fiercely devoted. Lillian admired her courage and vision but did not wish to take such extremes. Whether to accept the dragons' favor depended on the kingdom's contract with them—perhaps Lugunica must also pay a price. For now, Lillian could only wait.
Finally, Crusch concluded: "This selection is my opportunity to guide the nation and its people. Only through individual strength can the kingdom thrive. I will devote all my effort to achieve this."
She returned to the line, her speech leaving a strong impression. Though many disagreed with her views, they respected her unwavering determination. A true king must show boldness and vision; mere conservatism may avoid mistakes but rarely achieves greatness.
"Lord Crusch has presented an earth-shaking proposal. Please judge for yourselves," Marco said, turning to the purple-haired girl: "Next, Lady Anastasia, please step forward."
As a merchant, few expected much. Anastasia, aware of this, began plainly: "I'm greedy. I want everything. No success in commerce satisfies me, so I want a kingdom of my own."
Her smile was charming, though swapping "kingdom" with "dolls" or "pretty dresses" would feel more fitting. A kingdom sounded whimsical, almost childish, challenging her credibility.
"Lady Anastasia, do you intend to place the nation on a scale of wealth and desire?"
In response, her knight, Julius, stepped forward boldly: "Please allow me to speak. Anastasia-sama's business acumen is what our kingdom most urgently needs. Conflicts with neighboring countries, rising military expenses, famine—our treasury is in crisis."
"Why should a mere knight lecture on matters beyond his station?"
"Forgive my frankness. The kingdom's finances affect every citizen. Ignoring this would be disastrous. Anastasia-sama can restore prosperity and invigorate the economy—she has the makings of a true ruler."
"Stop flattering me so much, Julius~" Anastasia blushed slightly, then addressed the council: "But my knight is right. Whether it's a shop, land, or guild, I have an intense desire to make it thrive. A kingdom would be no different. If it becomes mine, I will make it vibrant, create jobs, and generate wealth—even from rival nations. Let us use money to defeat our enemies, and with the dragon's blessing, make Lugunica great again!"
The audience responded with small bursts of applause—the first of the day.
Lillian, listening, had to admit her cleverness. She may disdain the dragon personally but knew how to leverage its favor to strengthen her economic argument, winning support even more effectively than Crusch.
Anastasia returned to her line, her declaration lingering in minds. Economy had always been Lugunica's weakness. Perhaps a skilled economic leader could reverse decline, using wealth as a weapon—a novel strategy indeed.
"Next candidate—" Marco's gaze fell on Emilia. Though he showed less overt disdain than with others, his enthusiasm was noticeably muted. Likely, he had already concluded she would not become king.
"Lady Emilia, please."