Chapter 803: Are You Even from the Empire?

“Ahhh… what a pain! Such a pain!”

“Why do I have to think about stuff like this first thing in the morning? My isekai life isn’t supposed to be this tragic all the time, damn it!”

The bright morning sunlight poured over the boy’s fairly ordinary, modestly handsome face, slightly dazzling. Subaru Natsuki rubbed his sore, swollen eyes while muttering nonstop, wiping away the so-called ’half-congealed tears’ gathering at their corners as he leaned back and let his body sink into the soft mattress.

Lying there, after finishing his routine bout of venting and complaints, his heart still unsettled by that terrifying speculation, Subaru’s brown-black eyes gradually fixed upon the ceiling of his room.

Hmm. If he hadn’t accidentally come to another world, with his utterly ordinary life, he probably would never have had the chance to live in such a luxurious European-style castle…

Subaru drifted into thought.

Memories struck without warning, occupying his heart. When his blank, mush-like brain finally registered the predicament he might now be facing, a barren sense of loneliness spread through him.

Before he knew it, a hollow feeling—mixed with confusion, hesitation, fear, and other tangled emotions—quietly welled up in his chest.

How should I deal with this?

It was true. Having played plenty of games and consumed his fair share of manga and light novels, Subaru had initially treated himself as the ’protagonist’ upon arriving in this other world.

But after being entangled by a trio of thugs and murdered; after being disemboweled by the bounty assassin Bowel Hunter Elsa; after arriving at Roswaal’s mansion only to die from a curse that weakened his organs and bodily functions—

After activating [Return by Death] and causing the ’witch’s scent’ clinging to him to grow stronger, leading the then not-yet-close Ram and Rem to identify him as a member of the Witch Cult—first being smashed apart and having his skull crushed by a flail, then, after ’restarting,’ being tortured and interrogated by Rem, and finally having his throat slit by Ram’s wind blade—

That was already tragic enough. Yet it was far from the end of the misfortune named Subaru Natsuki.

Seriously—

The way you die can be more horrific than you ever imagined!

There had also been the inhuman agony of his heart being crushed in the Witch’s grip; leaping from a cliff and smashing his head upon the ground to reload in order to save Ram and Rem; being torn apart by mabeasts until he lost consciousness from blood loss; being called out for arrogance and ignorance during a duel and beaten into a one-sided unconsciousness; freezing to death multiple times; being mocked, humiliated, and schemed against by various Royal Selection factions; having his life force stripped away by magic; slitting his own throat with a blade; being gnawed to death multiple times by the Great Rabbit…

Too many.

And that didn’t even include the psychological blows—the disasters brought upon others because of him, the suffocating despair and self-blame.

All of it had made Subaru painfully aware of the consequences of his recklessness and arrogance.

[Return by Death] allowed him to start over, but the sensation of dying—the immersive, firsthand agony of each miserable death—did not disappear. That heart-rending despair never vanished.

He wasn’t that kind of ’protagonist.’ Subaru understood that now.

He had no extraordinary magical talent, no combat prowess to rely on. He possessed cowardice, weakness, arrogance, conceit, impulsiveness, irritability—contradictory and shameful character flaws.

He was just an ordinary person fortunate enough to receive a Witch’s favor and gift, struggling along a tightrope to avoid bringing disaster to his friends, harboring a bit of selfish desire. His companions and enemies were not friendly ’NPCs.’

Without the chance to reload—

Could he really do it?

Again and again, the boy interrogated himself.

It was both a warning from the Witch of Envy—Satella—that [Return by Death] might fail, and Subaru’s own fear born from self-awareness.

“If they’re also visitors from another world like me…”

His true nature might be rather lazy, but the moment he thought of those intellectual violet-blue eyes, that inertia vanished automatically. Boundless motivation flared up within him.

He needed contingency plans!

“Emilia-tan and the others definitely won’t understand the meaning behind a double-headed eagle or those modern-style military uniforms. I can’t slack off. I have to pull myself together! I’m the ’general’ of Emilia-tan’s camp—and the only expert in this field.”

Creak—

He rolled out of bed, still in his pajamas. The black-haired boy pulled out a chair, grabbed a sheet of draft paper, and, holding a quill dipped in ink, began thinking through what to write next.

“Can we establish contact? Is an alliance possible? Are they acting in goodwill—or with malice?”

He worked through the potential scenarios one by one.

If they were reasonable, that would be best—everyone wins.

But if they were like he had once been—arrogant and rude—then conversation would be impossible. No matter how much you talked, if the other side refused to listen, it would all be pointless.

And the double-headed eagle—definitely not a Japanese-style family crest.

If they were Japanese, the flag would likely bear the paulownia crest (Cabinet), the sixteen-petal chrysanthemum used on passports, or the imperial sixteen-petal, eight-layer chrysanthemum. Even the Sengoku-era clan emblems didn’t match.

On the other hand, as a high schooler who knew some foreign languages—especially English and German—he was fairly familiar with European Germanic regions. Those who favored eagle banners—especially double-headed eagles—were few in number… and in modern times, those who used eagle flags tended to be rather aggressive.

Sigh… how am I supposed to deal with foreigners?

Japanese? English? German?

Based on Otto Suwen’s letters, Subaru had already confirmed that the force calling itself the Empire—the one stirring up turmoil within the Kingdom of Lugunica and even fighting before the Council of Wise Men—were also visitors from another world.

“If Otto’s right, they seem to be more good than bad, I guess. Taking on large numbers of bounty missions, unilaterally declaring they don’t recognize and will abolish private assassination organizations, purging mabeasts, wiping out the Witch Cult…”

…

Soon enough, amid the scratch scratch of the quill across paper, more than an hour passed. Then, the pleasant sound of a door being pushed open reached Subaru’s ears.

“Barusu.”

The silver-bell voice pleasantly struck his eardrums. That willful nickname announced the visitor’s identity.

The pink-haired oni girl with a bob cut pushed the door open irritably.

“Barusu, you’re clearly already up. I saw your window was open so I didn’t call you. It’s mealtime. I called, but you didn’t respond. Lady Emilia is waiting. We have a guest visiting today… Hmm? Barusu, what are you doing?”

“Oh, it’s Ram!”

The breeze from outside brushed past the shoulders of the girl dressed in her specially modified, adorable maid uniform. Subaru, who had been leaning over the desk, froze for a moment, set down his quill, and naturally moved his hands away from his head to rest them on the desk. The anger that had been clenched in his teeth softened into a gentler look.

The white draft paper beneath his arms was densely filled with writing—marks branching everywhere like a mind map.

It was obvious that drafting contingency plans regarding the Empire—fellow visitors from another world—had caused Subaru enormous distress.

The pink-haired girl with large rose-colored eyes and enticing peach-tinted lips, her delicate features blending childishness and cuteness with a hint of maturity, picked up one of the crumpled draft sheets Subaru had tossed aside and smoothed it out.

Through the ink scribbles obscuring much of the text, she could still make out scattered words and arrows—”Bowel Hunter,” “not yet arrived,” “no news—→ Empire abolishes private assassination organizations.”

“Bowel Hunter… So Barusu still hasn’t forgotten what happened in the Sanctuary a month ago. The Empire—this must be from the information Otto gathered. I recall that Lord Roswaal has also been paying close attention to this matter lately.”

Ram let out a soft sigh and spoke seriously.

“Barusu. Though Ram doesn’t know why you are so uneasy and fearful, please don’t shoulder everything alone. Whatever the problem is, be sure to discuss it with Ram, with Lady Emilia, and with Lord Roswaal.”

“Am I that obvious?”

Rubbing his face and reopening his eyes—now faintly bloodshot—Subaru scratched the back of his head apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry. I won’t do it again. If there’s a problem, I’ll definitely consult the world’s cutest Ram.” He clasped his hands together sincerely.

“Hmph. That’s more like it.” Maintaining perfect maidly poise, Ram folded her hands neatly over her abdomen and gave a small snort.

“However, Barusu, set aside what you’re doing for now. Please hurry and wash up. We have guests visiting. The Mathers family and Lady Emilia cannot afford to gain a reputation for neglecting their guests.”

“Guests?” Subaru gathered up his draft papers. “Who?”

“Barusu! Ram is very angry. As Lady Emilia’s knight—even if self-proclaimed—you truly need to study proper etiquette and conduct…”

Just as Ram’s demeanor abruptly turned stern, as though she had ascended from perfect maid to etiquette instructor and was about to scold him thoroughly—

“Miss Ram, may I interrupt?”

A firm voice suddenly sounded.

“Please, Sir Astrea. My apologies for allowing you to witness such a disorderly side of the Mathers household.”

The pink-haired maid, who had nearly grabbed Subaru by the collar, coughed lightly at the male voice. Her lips curved faintly, as though nothing had happened. She composed herself and, with utmost seriousness, lifted the hem of her maid uniform and offered a graceful bow.

“Reinhard?”

Seeing the tall figure emerging from the corridor behind Ram, Subaru blinked in surprise.

“It is I, Subaru.”

Hair the color of blazing fire.

Beneath it, clear blue eyes unmatched in both courage and purity. Tall and slender, dressed in a perfectly tailored white knight’s uniform, even his mere stance resembled a painting. At his waist hung a simply adorned knight’s sword, its sheath engraved with dragon claws and exuding an unusual pressure.

The Sword Saint, Reinhard van Astrea.

Subaru stared at the red-haired young man in disbelief.

“Reinhard, weren’t you in the Royal Capital babysitting that spoiled little brat?”

“Subaru, though Princess Felt has many shortcomings in her behavior and upbringing, they are the result of insufficient education. You should not address Her Highness in such a manner.”

Reinhard spread his hands with a wry smile. It was evident that even the Sword Saint would find it troublesome to educate a rebellious princess who despised knights. After all, that had nothing to do with martial strength.

“So what brings you here?” Having been beaten enough times to learn basic manners, Subaru pulled out a chair for him while asking.

“Naturally, there is something we must discuss—”

“Oh, honestly! That’s what I hate about you—you’re always so roundabout. Don’t you get tired of it?”

No sooner had he spoken than, like a gust of wind, a girl with flowing golden hair and crimson eyes rushed forward. She tried to ram into Reinhard, though given the disparity in strength, he had to carefully brace himself to avoid her injuring herself from the rebound.

“Felt?”

The golden formal dress she wore somehow looked like night attire on her. Hearing Subaru call her name, the red-eyed girl flashed a grin, revealing sharp little canine teeth.

“Heh, you’re still the best, Subaru. This redhead keeps calling me ’Your Highness’ this and that all day. Doesn’t it exhaust him?”

A complaint others might envy.

“So, why are you two here?”

“Here. This.”

Felt plopped down in Reinhard’s seat and rummaged through her pouch.

“Remember back in the slums? You were carrying cup noodles and chips in something called a ’plastic bag.’ That’s what you said. Not long ago, after that so-called Sacred Selene Empire visited those old men’s council—I don’t know what deal they made—they gave us a huge amount of supplies and food. This was among it.”

Ignoring Reinhard’s attempt to correct her use of ’Council of Wise Men,’ she handed a small vacuum-sealed packet of crispy noodles to Subaru.

“I remember the stuff you ate looked similar to this. Didn’t you say it was food from your hometown?”

She shrugged.

“I mentioned it, and this redhead overheard. Then he rushed over insisting on seeing you.”

“This is…”

Subaru stared at the packet, eyes widening like brass bells. He examined every line of text and image printed on the plastic packaging.

Japanese. It was definitely Japanese.

Alongside another, more prominent bold script he didn’t recognize.

The packaging read:

Sacred Selene Empire, Astartes Third Black Templars Legion, III—Colony World 1288423, Solar System III Planet, Area 11, Hokkaido.

“…”

“Subaru?” Reinhard asked. “Did you notice something? Is this truly food from your homeland? Are you a citizen of the Sacred Selene Empire?”

“I don’t know either.”

After a long silence, Subaru scratched his head frantically.

His brows were tightly furrowed, lips pressed together, expression clouded and uncertain. His eyes reflected deep confusion—and terror at a certain possibility.

“Hokkaido really is a region from my homeland. But what’s ’Area 11’? And where’s Japan? And the place of origin… colony world? Listing the Solar System and all that… this is…”

Reinhard pressed further.

“So, are you from the Sacred Selene Empire?”

“No!”

He tore open the packaging and took a bite. Chewing, savoring the long-familiar taste, doubt crept into him again. Lost in unsettling speculation, Subaru added quietly:

“At least… before I came here, I wasn’t.”

—

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