DAY 3.
The Karsten estate was exactly the sort of building designed by people who wanted visitors to feel poor.
The stone pathways were immaculate.
The gardens looked professionally curated by obsessive perfectionists.
The architecture projected wealth, prestige, authority, and several other unpleasant concepts that tended to accompany nobles.
I walked through the front gates at a measured pace, cane tapping softly against the stone.
Not because I needed it.
Felix's healing had done its job.
My leg worked.
My body worked.
Mostly.
The cane remained for entirely strategic reasons.
Never waste a good visual aid.
A prophet who strode confidently into a noble estate looked arrogant.
A prophet who moved slowly and deliberately with a carved wooden cane looked mysterious.
Human beings were surprisingly vulnerable to presentation.
Entire industries existed because of that fact.
Today I am not Takehito or Fake Subaru who is considered Real.
Today I am Prophet™.
Please direct all questions to the customer service department.
A servant guided me through the estate.
Past hallways.
Past paintings.
Past enough expensive decorations to fund a small country's infrastructure.
Eventually, we arrived at the audience chamber.
The servant opened the doors.
I stepped inside.
And immediately felt three pairs of eyes lock onto me.
Crusch Karsten sat at the head of the room.
Calm.
Composed.
Regal.
Beside her stood Felix Argyle.
The catboy's expression immediately narrowed.
Protective.
Suspicious.
Prepared to throw me through a wall if necessary.
Reasonable.
Then there was Wilhelm.
Standing quietly near the rear wall.
Expression neutral.
Perfectly still.
The image of a harmless old butler.
Terrifying.
Absolutely terrifying.
I know exactly what that old man can do.
The wallpaper probably knows what that old man can do.
The wallpaper is afraid.
I offered a respectful nod.
"Lady Crusch."
"Subaru."
Crusch inclined her head.
"You requested an urgent audience."
"I did."
She gestured toward an empty chair.
"Then please sit."
I sat.
The room settled into silence.
Everyone waited.
The traditional fantasy response would have been to exchange pleasantries.
Compliment the weather.
Discuss travel conditions.
Pretend we weren't all busy.
I had absolutely no intention of doing any of that.
"I would like to discuss a high-yield strategic partnership."
The silence somehow became deeper.
Felix blinked.
Crusch blinked.
Wilhelm did not blink.
I refuse to elaborate on whether that's normal.
[ ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ]
"I will be direct."
I put my hands on the table.
Hands clasped loosely.
I leaned forward.
CONFIDENT AUTHORITY!
"Lady Crusch, your candidacy faces a fundamental political obstacle."
Felix immediately frowned.
Crusch merely watched.
"You advocate independence from the Dragon."
"I do."
"Many citizens consider that dangerous."
"I am aware."
"You require proof."
Crusch's eyes narrowed slightly.
I continued.
"You require a victory so overwhelming that the kingdom is forced to acknowledge your judgment."
Silence.
"The suppression of a local threat is insufficient."
"The defeat of bandits is insufficient."
"The management of territory is insufficient."
I leaned forward slightly.
"You require a legend."
The room remained perfectly still.
Then I dropped the offer.
"I know where the White Whale will appear."
Felix's ears twitched.
Crusch's expression didn't move.
Only her eyes sharpened.
"I know when it will appear."
I tapped the table once.
"I know the location."
"Within three days."
Nobody spoke.
Good.
Shock was an excellent sign.
Shock meant they were listening.
"I am prepared to provide this information."
Crusch finally spoke.
"And what do you desire in return?"
"A military partnership."
Simple.
Clean.
Transactional.
"A detachment of your elite forces will participate in the Whale subjugation."
"Following the Whale's defeat, those same forces will assist in eliminating a hostile movement currently gathering near the Mathers domain."
"A hostile movement?"
"Rogue cultists."
Technically true.
The best kind of true.
The room fell silent once more.
Then Crusch slowly rested her chin against her fingers.
Studying me.
Evaluating me.
Judging me.
And here comes the lie detector.
I maintained a calm expression.
Internally, I was approximately three seconds away from stress-induced evaporation.
Crusch's Divine Protection activated.
The air shifted.
Subtle.
Almost imperceptible.
But I knew what was happening.
She was listening.
Not to my words.
To the world itself.
Waiting for the wind to reveal deception.
Waiting for hesitation.
Waiting for falsehood.
Waiting for madness.
Seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
Because I wasn't lying.
The Whale was coming.
The coordinates were real.
The timetable was real.
Every word was true.
Slowly, something changed in Crusch's expression.
Not disbelief.
Not skepticism.
Something worse.
Concern.
Because her Divine Protection had just confirmed something impossible.
Congratulations.
The prophet is apparently telling the truth.
Please enjoy your existential crisis.
[ ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ]
"You are sincere."
Crusch finally spoke.
Not a question.
A statement.
"I am."
Silence.
Felix looked between us.
Then back to Crusch.
Then back to me.
The catboy was clearly realizing something had gone very wrong.
Crusch's fingers tapped once against the armrest.
"You understand what you're asking."
"Yes."
"Mobilizing forces based upon prophecy is not a decision a commander makes lightly."
"Correct."
"The information may be true."
"Correct."
"The reward may be extraordinary."
"Correct."
"But military lives are not pieces on a game board."
Technically they are.
But this is not the correct moment to say that.
I nodded.
"An understandable position."
Crusch leaned back.
Still uncertain.
Still unconvinced.
Not because she doubted me.
Because she was responsible.
Logic alone wasn't enough.
Which meant it was time to deploy the next phase.
Forgive me, Wilhelm.
Actually no, don't forgive me.
This is extremely deliberate.
I slowly turned toward the old butler.
The room followed my gaze.
Wilhelm remained motionless.
Patient.
Quiet.
Watching.
"I had another vision."
His eyes shifted toward me.
Nothing else moved.
"A wilderness."
I spoke softly.
Respectfully.
"A moonlit night."
"The shadow of something enormous descending from the sky. I take it to be the White Whale."
For the first time, Wilhelm's attention sharpened.
Not visibly.
But I felt it.
The same way a rabbit probably felt a wolf noticing it.
"I also saw someone else."
The room became quieter.
"I saw a swordswoman."
A pause.
"Hair like burning flame."
Another pause.
"For a moment..."
I met Wilhelm's eyes.
"...I mistook her for a member of the Astrea family."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then—
Wilhelm stopped being a butler.
Not physically.
He didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't change expression.
And somehow that made it infinitely worse.
The temperature seemed to drop.
The atmosphere thickened.
The air itself felt heavier.
Felix went still.
Crusch's eyes widened ever so slightly.
And suddenly I understood why this man had once been called the Sword Demon.
Dear God.
He's doing absolutely nothing.
Why is that more terrifying than violence?
[ ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ]
When Wilhelm finally spoke, his voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Young Master Subaru."
"I am listening."
The title had vanished.
No more polite distance.
No more casual observation.
Every word now carried fourteen years of grief.
Fourteen years of obsession.
Fourteen years of unfinished business.
"I would ask a question."
"Of course."
"The woman."
His hands tightened slightly.
"The one from your vision."
A pause.
Then:
"Did she smile?"
Critical hit.
I almost felt guilty.
Almost.
"Yes."
Wilhelm closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
When they opened again, the old butler was gone.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Emotionally.
The man standing before us was a swordsman who had waited fourteen years for a chance to avenge his wife.
Slowly, Wilhelm stepped forward.
Then dropped to one knee before Crusch.
Felix inhaled sharply.
Even Crusch looked surprised.
"Lady Crusch."
His voice remained steady.
"I have served your family faithfully."
"That you have."
"I have made very few requests."
"Also true."
Wilhelm lowered his head.
"I ask this one."
Silence.
"If these visions are true..."
His hands tightened.
"...then this is the opportunity I have sought for fourteen years."
The room became still.
"I wish to stake my sword upon it."
No dramatic speech.
No emotional breakdown.
No desperate pleading.
Just a simple request.
And somehow that was far more powerful.
Crusch closed her eyes.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Evaluating.
The prophet wasn't lying.
The opportunity was real.
The reward was historic.
And her most loyal retainer was willing to commit everything.
The answer was obvious.
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Then looked directly at me.
"Very well."
YES.
YES
YES
YES
YES!
CORPORATE MERGER ACHIEVED.
I maintained perfect composure.
Somehow.
"The Karsten camp will participate."
I nodded solemnly.
Like this had been inevitable.
Like I hadn't spent the last fifteen minutes one mistake away from spontaneous collapse.
"Excellent."
Crusch studied me carefully.
"Then we shall discuss operational details."
I smiled.
The professional smile.
The prophet smile.
The smile of a man who absolutely had everything under control.
Step one complete.
Acquire army: Success.
Next objective: Somehow convince Julius Juukulius to join this disaster.
Surely that will be less stressful.
...
I have never believed anything less in my entire life.