...
{3rd Pov}
Hearing the price Anastasia casually assigned to the notebook, everyone present stood completely baffled, their expressions frozen in disbelief.
"Y-You! You cannot be serious!" Crusch exclaimed in sheer shock.
With that amount of money, one could practically purchase an entire barony—or even more if they negotiated well!
That was how absurdly massive the sum of 1000 Royal Gold Coins truly was!
Felt, who had already been reeling from the sky-high offer of 100 Royal Gold Coins, nearly passed out on the spot upon hearing that the new bid had jumped all the way to a mind-numbing 1000 Royal Gold Coins for a single notebook.
A notebook, of all things!
Mind you, she had risked her entire life stealing the Royal Insignia from Emilia for a pathetic reward of just 15 Royal Gold Coins, and even then she had almost died at the hands of her own employer before she could enjoy a single coin!
And now, out of nowhere, someone was actually willing to throw away 1000 Royal Gold Coins—an amount so outrageous it made her dizzy—for a freaking notebook?
At this point, she couldn't help but seriously wonder if she had made a tragic mistake in leaving behind her career as a thief.
Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too late to return to her old profession after all.
ahem
"Oh? And why exactly can't I be serious?" Anastasia asked in an amused, almost teasing tone before casually adding, "2000 Royal Gold Coins."
Once again, silence fell over the entire room as everyone struggled to process the fact that she had just doubled the price without even blinking.
It wasn't a slow increase, nor a cautious negotiation—she simply jumped straight from 1000 to 2000 as if it were pocket change.
Even the members of her own camp, who were usually accustomed to her unpredictable decisions, were left wide-eyed and stunned.
They knew perfectly well that Anastasia had become somewhat unhinged ever since Zero appeared in her life—they'd seen her acting strange, overly enthusiastic, and far too invested.
But not a single one of them had imagined she was this obsessed with her saviour, to the point she was willing to throw around a sky-high, borderline insane amount of gold simply to secure a notebook he had personally written in.
Emilia's mind immediately started spinning, completely overwhelmed by the massive number that felt far too big to even comprehend smoothly.
Felt, on the other hand, didn't even get that far—she directly fainted on the spot, her eyes rolling back as her body gave up.
Rom barely managed to catch her in time, holding her carefully to prevent her from collapsing onto the floor.
"Felt! Felt! Lass, this is no time to be passing out!" Rom cried desperately as he shook her gently, his voice full of panic.
Crusch's face turned noticeably red, a mixture of embarrassment, frustration, and outright irritation.
It wasn't that she lacked pride or confidence, but she simply couldn't compete with Anastasia Hoshin in terms of financial firepower.
Military strength, discipline, and strategic advantage—yes, Crusch could dominate in those areas without hesitation.
But trying to challenge someone who owned one of the largest and most influential merchant companies in all of Kararagi?
That would be nothing short of foolish, borderline suicidal even.
Yet, despite knowing the sheer absurdity of it, she still didn't want to give up on the notebook.
She absolutely couldn't.
In this moment, it was the only remaining thread, the only tangible connection she had to her mysterious saviour.
Letting it slip through her fingers was something she simply refused to accept.
"I must say, I am genuinely shocked by the offers both Duchess Karsten and Lady Anastasia have placed on this simple notebook I am holding," Theresia remarked, casting a calm yet curious glance at both women.
Her voice carried a hint of disbelief, as if she herself couldn't fully comprehend how a single notebook had escalated into a full-blown bidding war between two influential figures.
"However," she continued with a gentle smile, "there is truly no need for such a heated struggle. If you ladies wish, I can simply lend it to both of you."
Theresia's tone was amicable and warm, almost motherly.
She could clearly see the intense emotion burning in their eyes—an emotion she immediately recognized.
Both women held Zero in incredibly high regard, and the fierce determination they displayed reminded her vividly of her own younger days, back when she used to gaze at Wilhelm with the same unwavering, heartfelt look.
There was no doubt about it.
It was love—pure, earnest, undeniable.
(A/N: Missed out the obsession part *Ahem*)
"Forgive me, Lady Theresia," Anastasia replied politely, though her voice carried no hesitation whatsoever.
"But you see I am a quite greedy gal, so I want that notebook entirely for myself."
Her gaze remained firmly locked onto the notebook, as if her eyes alone were trying to lift it from Theresia's hands.
Ricardo, who had been standing nearby, felt a tremor of hesitation run through him.
Part of him wondered—very seriously—whether he should speak up and remind Anastasia that throwing such an absurd amount of money at a notebook, even one written by their saviour, was bordering on financially reckless.
He wasn't sure if it was his place, but he couldn't help questioning internally whether all of this was really worth it for a mere notebook.
"If that's how you want to play it, then 3000 Royal Gold Coins!" Duchess Karsten declared boldly, her voice cutting through the room like a blade.
A collective gasp swept across the entire hall.
Felt, who had just recovered from passing out, went limp immediately and fainted again without even making a sound.
Meanwhile, Emilia, who had been desperately trying to keep up with the ever-increasing numbers, finally reached her mental limit.
Her brain simply gave out, unable to process the astronomical sums being thrown around so casually.
"Lia! Lia! This is absolutely no time to be passing out!" Puck shouted as he manifested in a puff of light, swooping in just in time to catch Emilia before she toppled over.
"Damn clown, help me out here! Lia has fainted!"
"Truly amussssss-ing," Roswaal drawled in his signature, almost sing-song tone.
Without missing a beat, he stepped behind Emilia and grabbed her chair to ensure she didn't fall together with it, stabilizing both her and the furniture with surprising gentleness.
Crusch, on the other hand, wore a confident, sharp grin.
"Lady Anastasia, you seem to forget that I am a Duchess. Even if my liquid funds do not match yours, my total assets far exceed the worth of your entire company," she said, her pride practically radiating out of her.
Hearing this, something inside Anastasia Hoshin visibly twitched.
Her nerves tingled with competitive annoyance, and she clicked her tongue softly before declaring, "Fine then—5000 Royal Gold Coins!"
Without even a second of hesitation, Crusch Karsten immediately countered with a firm and unwavering, "10,000 Royal Gold Coins!"
Another wave of stunned gasps rippled through the room.
For many of them, that amount wasn't merely high—it was the equivalent of the entire treasury of a medium-sized city!
The sheer scale of the bidding had long surpassed all common sense, and at this point people were starting to wonder whether this was still a negotiation or some sort of insane duel fueled entirely by pride and desperation.
"25,000 Royal Gold Coins!" Anastasia declared almost immediately, throwing out a number more than double what Crusch had just offered.
The speed and boldness of her bid left everyone in the room momentarily speechless.
At this point, even Priscilla couldn't hide her reaction.
Her eyes widened, and she took an audible sharp breath, clearly shocked at the sheer audacity of the price being tossed around as if it were nothing.
"100,000 Royal Gold Coins!" Anastasia's voice rang out loud and unwavering, echoing in the hall.
Hearing this, even Roswaal's signature composed expression flickered for just a moment—his eyebrows twitching in disbelief at the astronomical escalation.
Meanwhile, Reinhardt's attention snapped to Felt, who had just barely regained consciousness only to pass out yet again—this time for the third time.
To make matters worse, Rom, usually the most composed of them all, had also succumbed to the stress of the situation and passed out completely.
"Sir Rom! Lady Felt! Please, wake up!" Reinhardt shouted, his voice rising in panic as he shook them both lightly, unsure whether this was a matter for normal persuasion or if he would need to invoke some kind of divine intervention to rouse them from unconsciousness at this point.
As for Emilia, she remained unconscious, and thankfully so, because if she had still been awake, she probably would have passed out again at the latest number.
Priscilla, meanwhile, was completely flushed, her expression akin to someone watching a high-stakes five-star drama unfold in front of her eyes.
Her breathing grew heavier with every second, and Alderban—watching the entire ridiculous scene with a combination of horror and disbelief—once again buried his face in his hands, helmet and all.
'Damn it…' Alderban thought grimly, embarrassed beyond words.
'The Princess is probably already imagining how the world will bend to her will just to hand over one million Royal Gold Coins to her.'
"Lil Missy, this is getting far too ridiculous for a single notebook," Ricardo said firmly, stepping forward with a mixture of exasperation and concern.
Hearing Ricardo speak up and seemingly willing to put an end to this completely absurd farce, Julius let out a long, relieved sigh.
A part of him had been silently hoping someone would intervene, because, though he too wanted desperately to stop Anastasia from throwing herself—and everyone else—into financial chaos, recent events in Priestella had left him with far too little courage to voice any objection.
After all, he was the one who hadn't stopped her from suffering when her name had been devoured by the Gluttony brothers.
At the time, he had remained passive, paralyzed by doubt or hesitation, and allowed the situation to unfold without intervening.
Later, he had managed to gain her forgiveness, but even that had come at a cost.
The fact that she had given the forgiveness on the basis of them helping her eventually reunite with Zero was already far more than he deserved, considering how he had abandoned her in her moment of greatest need.
If it weren't for Zero's timely intervention, Julius knew that his master would likely have perished on the streets, suffering from hunger, thirst, and repeated beatings, vented out of the sheer frustration by three random thugs.
And he had been powerless—or, more accurately, unwilling—to help her despite her desperate pleas.
He remembered that failure clearly, the guilt still burning as vividly as ever.
Even though he had been called the "Finest of Knights," he had failed to protect an innocent person and had instead allowed himself to place his trust in three cruel thugs.
The shame of that choice was one he knew he would carry with him for the rest of his life.
It was precisely for this reason that he felt it was nowhere near his place to tell Anastasia what to do now.
He had no authority to intervene, no right to question her decisions, no moral high ground to claim.
"Even if it's you, Ricardo," Anastasia said, her voice sharp and unwavering, her eyes blazing with determination, "I must have that notebook! It's the only link we have to Sir Zero!"
Ricardo could only sigh, a mixture of resignation and exasperation washing over him.
He knew full well that Lil Missy was completely and utterly obsessed with Zero—and no amount of reasoning or caution would ever make her give up.
"Enough! Both of you!" Theresia suddenly shouted, her voice sharper and louder than anyone had expected. The abrupt change startled everyone in the room.
Theresia had always been known as a polite, composed, and gentle woman, rarely raising her voice at anyone.
For her to snap like this was almost unimaginable.
But ever since her resurrection, her emotions had become far more vivid and intense, especially after learning how her husband and son had pushed all the blame for their family's tragedy onto Reinhardt.
And now, after witnessing this utterly ridiculous bidding war over a notebook that Zero had entrusted to her, she had officially reached her limit.
She had no patience left for nonsense today.
"I know both of you love Zero!" she declared boldly.
Hearing the truth spoken aloud so bluntly, both Crusch Karsten and Anastasia Hoshin turned bright red in embarrassment.
Their faces burned as if someone had exposed their deepest secrets in front of the entire kingdom.
"And I also know," Theresia continued, "that this notebook is currently the only clue we have to finding him. But fighting over it like this is not going to help anyone. Think for a moment! Would you rather spend all that money on Zero himself, in person, or waste it all on a notebook he simply wrote in?"
Her words hit both women like a bucket of cold water.
The shock was immediate.
They froze, eyes wide, unable to respond.
Indeed, the second they thought about it seriously, they realized she was absolutely right.
No matter how valuable the notebook seemed right now, it could never compare to Zero himself.
If they recklessly spent a quarter—or even half—of their wealth at this very moment, how would they possibly spoil Zero later when he finally returned? The thought alone made their hearts sink.
"The meeting here was organized to gather clues about Sir Zero," Theresia reminded everyone, her tone softening as she regained her usual composure.
"So instead of wasting time and energy on pointless bidding, why don't we focus on the actual purpose of this gathering? I am, of course, willing to hand over this notebook as an important clue."
As she spoke, she briefly glanced toward Heinkel with narrowed eyes and added sharply, "And also—no burning it, Heinkel."
Heinkel clicked his tongue in annoyance.
His mother knew every one of his bad habits, every quirk, every impulsive urge he had ever developed.
How in the world was he supposed to fool her when she could predict exactly what he was thinking?
Even after being absent from their lives for a full fifteen years, Theresia was still unquestionably formidable.
That the mother who raised him.
"This… I must admit my actions were far too embarrassing, both as a Duchess and as a Royal Candidate," Crusch confessed, her voice steady but clearly laced with humiliation.
She lowered her head respectfully and bowed deeply.
"I sincerely apologize for the scene I caused."
Everyone then slowly turned their eyes toward Anastasia, silently expecting her to offer an apology as well—especially after the emotional devastation she had casually inflicted on half the room.
Plenty of attendees had unintentionally been reminded, in at least ten different metaphorical languages, just how painfully poor they were compared to the absurd figures she had thrown around so carelessly.
"I suppose I let myself get far too greedy," Anastasia admitted after a moment of thought, her expression softening slightly.
"I wouldn't want Zero to look at me and think I'm some kind of fool. So… I apologize for my behaviour as well."
She spoke sincerely, though unlike Crusch, she did not bow.
She was a businesswoman, after all—one who maintained pride as firmly as her profits.
"Anastasia-sama, I believe it would be best if you took a seat," Julius said immediately.
He stepped forward in a careful, almost overly attentive manner and pulled a chair out for her with practiced grace, eager to assist even in the smallest way.
Anastasia quietly sat down, her posture composed but her eyes cold.
She didn't offer him so much as a polite nod or a brief glance of acknowledgment, making it painfully clear she still hadn't forgiven him—not even a little.
"Yes, Lady Crusch, please take a seat," Wilhelm said as he respectfully pulled a chair out for his Lady.
The sound of her metal armour clanking echoed softly as she lowered herself onto the seat, her posture still dignified despite her earlier embarrassment.
Meanwhile, Emilia finally regained consciousness after Puck pressed a handful of freshly formed ice against her cheek.
She blinked several times, her eyes unfocused and her mind still foggy from the shock.
"Puck… my head feels so cloudy," she murmured weakly, rubbing her temple.
"How much money was it again? I think I lost track somewhere…"
"Emiliaaaa-sama," Roswaal chimed in, stretching his words in his usual theatrical manner, "how about we avoooooiiid any further discussions involving mooooneeey, yes? And insteaaaad, why don't we shift our attention toward the actual meeeting? Lady Crusch and Lady Anastasia appear to have put an end to their ridiculouuus farce after Lady Theresia's very eaaaarnest intervention."
Roswaal himself was eager—desperate even—to gather any information about Zero, so he was more than happy to steer the topic back on track.
"Ah, y-yes, that sounds better," Emilia agreed quickly, deciding it was healthiest for her sanity not to think about absurd numbers that could fund multiple kingdoms.
She then turned her gaze toward her partner.
"Also… thank you for your help, Puck."
The small feline spirit puffed out his furry chest proudly and nodded.
"No problem at all. Anything for my daughter," he said with a warm and affectionate tone, clearly pleased that she was safe again.
Emilia smiled softly, grateful for his presence as she finally settled in, ready to rejoin the meeting.
There was a very clear reason why Roswaal, despite his relaxed and theatrical outward appearance, was actually feeling incredibly impatient on the inside for the meeting to finally begin.
Out of all the Royal Candidate camps, theirs was one of the only groups that had not been present during the Priestella attack.
In fact, they were one of only two camps that had completely missed the entire event of Zero saving Priestella.
That meant their knowledge regarding Zero—the person who had suddenly become the biggest deciding factor in the Royal Selection—was pathetically lacking.
And Roswaal, who relied heavily on information and manipulation, could not afford to fall behind. He needed every scrap of detail, every clue, every piece of testimony he could get his hands on.
To make matters worse for him personally, ever since Theresia had unexpectedly joined Emilia's camp, he had been having far more difficulty manipulating Emilia than before.
Her presence alone was like a shield, constantly blocking him from exerting the subtle influence he had always used.
The moment he had first met her, Roswaal had been so shocked that he nearly attacked her with a spell on reflex, thinking she was some kind of reanimated corpse soldier.
However, that shock multiplied tenfold when Theresia casually—completely by accident—called him by a nickname that she used back when he was still operating in his female body.
Roswaal froze instantly, stiff as a statue, his mind spiraling with panic.
For a moment, he genuinely wondered if his deepest, most carefully hidden secret—his method of switching bodies—had been exposed.
But after forcing himself to stay calm, speaking privately with Theresia, and later double-checking every detail through his informants, he reached a horrifying conclusion.
His long-term plans, the same plans involving carefully getting rid of all the competing camps one by one, had gone completely off the rails.
A saviour known as Zero had suddenly appeared during the chaos in Priestella.
He defeated every last Sin Archbishop involved in the attack, rescued the civilians and fighters alike, and for reasons no one could properly understand, he even managed to resurrect Theresia—who had been discovered as a Corpse Soldier under the control of the Witch Cult.
This event alone had caused a massive wave of confusion and speculation across all factions.
Roswaal later realized that Theresia had only called out his name by mistake back then because his appearance was vaguely similar to his previous self, the one who had occupied the female body and had been on familiar terms with her.
Once he confirmed this through calm discussion and through the verification of multiple sources from his informants, he understood it was nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence rather than a discovery of his secrets.
However, the existence of Zero—the unpredictable wildcard who had overturned Priestella and reshaped the balance of power practically overnight—was something Roswaal could not afford to ignore.
To gather more information on Zero and to ensure that nothing interfered with his ultimate objective of reviving his beloved Sensei, he decided to accept Theresia into Emilia's camp.
Her status as the former Sword Saint would undeniably strengthen Emilia's reputation, increasing her influence in the Royal Selection without him having to do much.
Unfortunately, while Theresia's presence did significantly raise the camp's fame and credibility, Roswaal himself gained very little concrete information about Zero.
The only thing he managed to acquire was indirect: Theresia kept a mysterious notebook related to Zero, something she fiercely refused to share with anyone, including him.
He often caught her reading it with an intensity that reminded him of a Witch Cultist obsessively studying a gospel, which only made him more frustrated and suspicious.
'I must gather far more information than this. I don't care who ends up being crowned king after my task is done, and I don't care what kind of absurd harem that man collects. None of that matters. What matters is ensuring that nothing—absolutely nothing—derails my goal. I must do everything within my power to guide circumstances toward reviving my Sensei,' Roswaal thought with growing determination.
Meanwhile, Reinhardt let out a long breath of relief after finally managing to wake up both Felt and Rom.
Felt stretched slightly while Rom rubbed the back of his head, still trying to process the situation.
"Damn, did those nobles finally calm down, or did they just get tired after arguing the whole time?" Rom muttered, squinting at Anastasia and Crusch.
Both women were now sitting calmly with the other Royal Candidates, quietly observing the room and waiting for the meeting to officially begin.
The contrast from the earlier chaos made the atmosphere feel almost suspiciously peaceful.
"Yes. It seems that my mother stepped in right at the perfect moment," Reinhardt explained, letting out a small sigh of his own.
"She stopped their confrontation before things escalated any further and convinced them to focus entirely on the search for Zero instead. Mother even agreed to submit the notebook as a potential clue for the investigation."
Reinhardt smiled faintly, relieved that things hadn't turned into a full-blown political disaster.
"Thank Od Laguna for that," Felt clicked her tongue in irritation, crossing her arms.
"I swear, I kept getting one shock after another the moment they started throwing those ridiculous prices around. The difference between the rich and the poor in this kingdom is insane, and they don't even try to hide it."
Her voice carried a mixture of frustration and exhaustion, clearly showing how baffled she still was.
"Please do not worry, Lady Felt," Reinhardt reassured her with the composed and gentle smile expected from the Sword Saint.
"Even if you happen to faint again because of the stress or the overwhelming atmosphere, with the Divine Protections I have recently gained, I can always wake you up immediately."
His tone was calm and confident, as if waking unconscious people had become a casual part of his daily routine.
For a brief moment, an awkward silence settled over the group, the kind that made everyone unsure whether they should comment or pretend nothing happened.
Then, without warning, Felt exploded with her usual energy, shouting at the top of her lungs as she jumped up and launched herself forward to kick Reinhardt.
"You bastard! That's nothing to brag about!" Felt yelled, clearly offended by how casually he talked about waking her up like it was a hobby.
"And seriously, how do you keep getting these ridiculous Divine Protections? Do you collect them like souvenirs or what?" Her expression was a mix of anger, disbelief, and genuine irritation.
Reinhardt, however, reacted with the calmness of someone entirely used to her sudden attacks.
He caught her leg mid-air without even blinking, gently redirecting her momentum so she didn't crash into anything.
Then, with practiced ease, he guided her back down into her seat as if he were handling a restless child rather than a Royal Candidate.
Theresia watched the scene unfold with a soft chuckle, unable to hide her amusement. 'They really do look so good together,' she thought, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Their chaotic dynamic was oddly heartwarming.
"Anyway, we should not waste any more time. It's time we officially begin the meeting," Crusch Karsten announced firmly, stepping forward and naturally taking the lead.
Her voice carried strength and clarity, immediately drawing attention.
Every Royal Candidate, along with their respective companions, shifted their focus toward her.
They understood perfectly well that this meeting was not something they could treat lightly.
The future direction of the entire Royal Selection—and by extension, the stability and future of the Kingdom of Lugunica—depended heavily on the decisions and information to be shared today.
To be continued...