Chapter 3 - re zero unbound

Re:Zero – Unbound by Fate

Chapter 1: Arrival in Lugunica

The midday sun bathed the royal capital of Lugunica in a golden glow. Bustling crowds filled the cobblestone streets, merchants hawked exotic wares, and the scent of freshly baked bread mingled with that of spices from distant lands. In the midst of the lively market square, a sudden gust of wind spiraled without warning. He appeared seemingly from nowhere – a tall young man with a shock of dark hair and eyes that held a playful, knowing gleam. He stood out immediately: impossibly handsome, with an aura of confidence so palpable it was as if the air itself bent to his will.

Clad in an unfamiliar black high-collared jacket and simple trousers, the newcomer surveyed the busy street with a curious smirk. This certainly wasn't where he'd been a moment ago. He recalled walking out of a convenience store back in his world – and now, here he was in a medieval marketplace brimming with humans, demi-humans, and who knew what else. A lesser man might have panicked or questioned his sanity, but not him. Instead, he casually ran a hand through his hair and chuckled under his breath. "Well, this is new…," he mused, amused rather than alarmed by the drastic change of scenery.

A group of rough-looking men loitering by a fruit stall noticed his sudden appearance. They sized up his strange clothes and confident posture, exchanging whispers. One, a scar-faced thug with crooked teeth, stepped forward. "Oi, pretty boy," the thug sneered, cracking his knuckles. "You lost? Those fancy clothes might fetch a nice price. Hand over your coin if ya know what's good for ya."

The market's background chatter hushed slightly as a few onlookers noticed the brewing confrontation. The young man turned to the thug slowly, head tilted with an almost bored expression. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face, as if this was too easy. "Coin?" he repeated, voice smooth and mocking. "Afraid I'm fresh out. How about I pay you with a smile instead?" He flashed a dazzling grin so self-assured it bordered on insolence.

For a beat, the thug blinked, taken aback by the man's carefree response. Then his expression twisted in anger at being mocked. "Why you—!" he growled, lunging forward with a meaty fist aimed at the stranger's face.

What happened next was a blur to everyone watching. The dark-haired young man didn't move from where he stood – or at least no one saw him move. Yet somehow the charging thug abruptly stopped, doubled over and gasping. The stranger's hand was lightly placed on the thug's abdomen, as if he'd merely poked him. Slowly, he withdrew his hand, and the thug crumpled to his knees, wheezing in pain.

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the gathering crowd. The remaining ruffians exchanged uncertain glances. Their leader had been felled in an instant by what looked like the gentlest of touches. The handsome stranger hadn't even broken a sweat; in fact, he looked positively bored.

"You… you bastard!" another thug snarled, drawing a rusted dagger. He and a cohort rushed at the man from two sides. The crowd winced, expecting blood.

The young man rolled his eyes. In a flash of impossible speed, he sidestepped the first attacker, lightly tapping the back of the man's neck with a single finger as he passed. The thug yelped as if struck by a sledgehammer and went face-first into the dirt. In the same fluid motion, the stranger twisted aside from the second thug's dagger slash. Before the attacker could blink, the stranger's leg swept around. With casual grace, he kicked the thug's feet out from under him, sending him sprawling onto a stand of cabbages. The wooden stall collapsed under the sudden weight, produce flying everywhere.

A chorus of laughter and cheers erupted from the onlookers at the sight of the clumsy thieves dispatched so easily. The market-goers, often victims of such hooligans, enjoyed the poetic justice. The dark-haired interloper dusted off his hands, looking utterly unimpressed. "Honestly, you lot should find a healthier hobby," he said lightly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Mugging random strangers? Tsk, tsk. Very low class."

The scar-faced leader still knelt on the ground, clutching his stomach in pain and shock. He glared up at the stranger. "Wh…who are you?" he snarled between labored breaths.

The young man put a hand to his chin as if considering the question deeply. Who was he, here? He had a name, of course, but giving it freely wasn't nearly dramatic enough for his taste. Instead, he flashed another one of those brilliant, arrogant smiles. "Me?" he said, bending slightly to meet the thug's eyes. "I'm just a tourist with a low tolerance for boredom. And you, my friend, are boring me."

Before the thug could respond, the stranger casually flicked the man's forehead. It was a simple, almost comical gesture – yet it sent the scarred thug tumbling backwards as if he'd been hit by a charging bull. The man landed on his backside with a yelp, his dagger clattering away. A fresh wave of laughter rolled through the crowd.

Satisfied that the fun was over, the newcomer surveyed the onlookers, some of whom were now applauding or giving grateful nods. He took a theatrical bow. "Thank you, thank you," he drawled, winking at a few astonished merchants. "I'll be here all week."

The bystanders weren't sure what to make of him – a man with the strength of a demon, the grace of a noble, and the tongue of a jester. Whispers began circulating: Was he a knight in disguise? A sorcerer? Perhaps even one of the famed royal candidates' knights incognito?

Amid the crowd was a small cloaked figure who had paused to watch the spectacle: a girl with short blonde hair and sharp eyes, clutching a small parcel to her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired man, then at the incapacitated thugs, as if judging whether she could take advantage of the distraction. Ultimately, she shook her head and darted away into the alleyways with cat-like agility, her presence hardly noticed by anyone – including the stranger.

The dark-haired man himself paid the fleeing silhouette no mind. Instead, his attention was drawn to a voice that rang out above the murmur of the crowd – clear, silvery, and concerned.

"Is everyone alright? I heard a commotion…"

The crowd parted to reveal a breathtaking sight: a young woman with long silver hair and gentle amethyst eyes, dressed in a delicate white and purple outfit that marked her as something special. A small cat-like spirit with fluffy white fur perched on her shoulder, its tail swishing with alertness. There was an otherworldly grace to the girl – and also a hint of nervousness in the way she bit her lip at the sight of the fallen thugs.

The newcomer's eyes lit up with intrigue. Now this is interesting… he thought. It wasn't just the girl's beauty that struck him, though she was certainly beautiful. It was also the way the crowd reacted to her; whispers of "half-elf" and wary glances spread among some of the bystanders. The man sensed a mix of admiration and fear directed toward her.

One of the merchants quickly stepped forward to address the silver-haired girl. "Lady Emilia," he said with a respectful bow, "just a bit of trouble with some riffraff. But this gentleman here took care of it." He gestured toward the dark-haired stranger.

The young woman – Emilia – turned her eyes to the stranger, blinking in surprise. He noticed her gaze linger on his features, a faint blush dusting her cheeks before she composed herself. "I…I see," she said softly. The small cat spirit on her shoulder stood on two hind paws, sniffing the air in the stranger's direction.

"Are you hurt?" Emilia asked the man, concern evident in her tone. It was genuine worry – not something the man was used to hearing directed at him, especially when he was in no danger whatsoever. The thought amused him.

He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "That you'd worry about my well-being touches me deeply, milady," he said with a playful lilt. "I assure you, I'm perfectly fine. Those fellows were hardly a warm-up."

Emilia tilted her head at his flippant response, a strand of her silvery hair falling over one shoulder. She didn't quite know what to make of this stranger. He spoke in a manner as if everything were a game, yet he had dispatched three grown men effortlessly. "I'm glad to hear that," she responded politely. Her eyes drifted to the groaning thugs. "And they…?"

"Bruised egos mostly," the man interrupted with a shrug. He glanced back at the would-be muggers, now limping away in a hurry, dragging their unconscious companion. "And perhaps a lesson learned. Though I wouldn't bet on it."

The cat-like spirit on Emilia's shoulder leapt down and floated in front of the stranger, regarding him with large, inquisitive eyes. "He's telling the truth, Lia. Not even a scratch on him," the spirit said. Its voice was male and lightly teasing. Crossing tiny paws over his fluffy chest, the spirit added, "In fact, I'd say those goons were lucky. I sensed a tremendous power just now… and it wasn't me."

The stranger raised an eyebrow, more impressed by the talking cat than the cat was with him. "Well, aren't you a cute little furball," he remarked, meeting the spirit's gaze evenly. He could sense something from the creature – a magical energy distinct from ki or anything he knew. A spirit, perhaps? If he recalled his fantasy lore correctly, that was likely.

The "furball" bristled slightly at the flippant address. "I have a name, you know," the spirit huffed, though not truly upset. "It's Puck."

"Ah, my apologies, Puck," the man replied, not sounding sorry at all. He clasped his hands behind his back in a carefree stance, leaning forward a bit to inspect the spirit more closely. "I've just never met a cat that introduced itself before. Color me impressed."

Puck's violet eyes narrowed. He could feel something off about this human. That immense energy coiled within him… it was far beyond anything Puck had sensed in a mortal before, even the strongest of magic users. It reminded him of something primal, like standing before a raging tempest given human form. Yet the man bore no scent of the Witch or any particular magic – it was as if his power was entirely his own. The spirit couldn't decide whether to feel wary or relieved that this unpredictable stranger seemed friendly.

Emilia stepped forward, breaking the momentary staring contest between Puck and the newcomer. She offered a polite curtsy, her expression earnest. "Thank you for helping keep the peace. Those men have caused trouble in the market before. I'm sorry you were caught up in that as soon as you arrived… um…?"

She trailed off, realizing she didn't know his name. Her eyes met his, curious and open.

The man straightened up and gave a slight, almost theatrical bow. "Name's Cain," he introduced himself smoothly, opting to use a pseudonym on a whim. He wasn't ready to share everything, and besides, a bit of mystery was always fun. If this world was like the stories he knew, names held power – best to play coy for now. "Just a traveler who quite literally stumbled into your charming city."

"Cain," Emilia repeated softly, as if testing how it felt on her tongue. She offered him a gentle smile. "I'm Emilia. It's nice to meet you."

Her smile was warm, reaching her eyes, and Cain found it surprisingly captivating. There was a purity to it, a kindness that shone despite the cautious stares some townsfolk still gave her. It was the kind of smile one couldn't help but return. And so, he did – though his own grin remained tinged with that signature cockiness.

"The pleasure's mine, Lady Emilia," Cain replied. He casually studied her pointed ears, partially hidden by her hair. Half-elf, the merchant had said. Wasn't there something about a witch and a half-elf in the lore of this world? Cain searched his memory; if this was truly the Re:Zero universe (as he suspected from her name and appearance), Emilia was a royal candidate and half-elf often unfairly associated with the Witch of Envy. But she looked nothing like a villain – just a concerned girl with too much weight on her shoulders.

Emilia noticed his gaze and unconsciously touched her ear, a familiar hurt flickering in her eyes at his interest. She was used to being judged for her lineage. Cain immediately realized the faux pas. Rather than apologize outright – which might embarrass her more – he chose a different tactic.

"You have beautiful ears," he said matter-of-factly, as if complimenting the weather. "They go quite well with your lovely hair."

Emilia's eyes widened in surprise. That was not what she expected to hear. A delighted pink blossomed on her cheeks. "O-Oh… thank you," she stammered. She wasn't accustomed to open compliments; mostly she received wary glances or overly formal flattery from those who knew her status. This stranger's blunt praise, paired with his easy grin, left her momentarily speechless.

Puck floated back to Emilia's side, eyeing Cain with a mixture of suspicion and amusement. "My, my, Lia, it seems you've made a new friend," Puck teased lightly, curling his tail. "And a charmer at that."

Emilia cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "Um, Cain… You said you stumbled into the city. Are you new to Lugunica? You seemed a bit disoriented earlier."

Cain gave a one-shouldered shrug. "You could say I'm very new. As in, I arrived just minutes before those clowns decided to give me a warm welcome," he said, nodding towards where the thugs had fled.

Emilia frowned slightly. Appearing out of nowhere, picking fights with petty criminals… this Cain was odd. Still, he didn't feel malicious. In fact, despite his arrogant air, something about him was… likable. Even the way he stood there—relaxed, utterly sure of himself—had a strange magnetism. People in the market were still sneaking glances at him, some whispering appreciatively about how he handled the scoundrels.

"If you're new here, I'd be happy to help you get your bearings," Emilia offered kindly. "Lugunica can be confusing to outsiders at first."

Cain chuckled under his breath. The idea of needing a guide was ironically endearing, given there was likely nothing in this world that could truly threaten him. Still, spending more time with this charming half-elf didn't sound bad. Not bad at all. Plus, he remembered that in Re:Zero's storyline, Emilia had an insignia stolen around this time… by a thief in the marketplace. Perhaps the blonde he'd noticed earlier? If events were on track, trouble was brewing that might interest him.

"That's very generous, Lady Emilia," Cain said. He placed a hand theatrically over his forehead as though overcome. "To think, a beautiful guide on my first day—how could I refuse?"

Emilia giggled softly at his exaggerated gesture, some initial wariness melting away. It was hard to remain tense around someone so unabashedly confident and humorous. "Just Emilia is fine. And this is Puck, as he said. We're actually—"

She was interrupted by a sudden flutter of worry across her face. "Oh no! Puck, the insignia!" she blurted, turning to her companion. "We lost so much time here, and we still haven't found it."

Cain's ears perked up. Ah, here it is. He kept his face neutral, though. "Insignia?" he repeated in a casual tone.

Emilia bit her lip, clearly anxious. "Yes… my insignia. It's a precious item that was…taken from me. I was chasing the thief when I heard the disturbance here and got sidetracked…"

Puck sighed, floating upward. "We should hurry, Lia. It's getting late and we still need that back. You know how important it is."

Emilia nodded, worry evident on her face. She turned to Cain with an apologetic bow. "I'm so sorry, Cain. I just remembered I'm in the middle of something very important. I have to go. Maybe we can talk later—"

"Stolen item, is it?" Cain interjected smoothly. He casually cracked his neck, the joints popping audibly. "What a coincidence. I was just thinking I could use a little exercise. How about I lend a hand? I have a knack for dealing with thieves." He gave her a confident wink.

"You really don't have to—" Emilia began, not wanting to impose on a stranger. But Cain was already stepping past her, scanning the edges of the market with narrowed eyes. His demeanor changed subtly; there was a focused gleam in his gaze, and that playful smirk sharpened.

"In fact," he continued, "why don't you let me handle it? Consider it a thank-you for being such a gracious would-be guide."

Emilia found herself speechless again. This man was certainly assertive. She glanced at Puck, who shrugged.

"He seems eager, and frankly, I wouldn't mind the help," Puck admitted, stroking his whiskers thoughtfully. His nose twitched as he sniffed for the faint magical trace of the insignia. "We could cover more ground."

Emilia relented with a soft smile. "Alright. The thief is a young girl, very quick on her feet. She took a small purple jewel from me – an insignia with a dragon crest. It's extremely important that I get it back."

Cain gave a casual salute. "A purple gem, stolen by a quick young girl. Got it." He paused, then added with a teasing lilt, "Sit tight, Emilia. I'll be back before you can miss me."

With that, Cain took off in a swift stride, then a leap—straight up. Emilia gasped softly as she watched him vault onto a low rooftop with inhuman agility. In a blink, he was bounding across the tiled roofs of the market district, leaving her and Puck staring after him.

"My, he doesn't waste time, does he?" Puck remarked, hovering by Emilia's shoulder again.

Emilia shook her head in astonishment. "Just who is he…?" she murmured, a mix of concern and fascination in her voice.

High above the streets, Cain moved with effortless grace, rooftop to rooftop. He chuckled to himself, adrenaline humming pleasantly in his veins. He rarely got to cut loose like this back in his own world – at least not without causing a scene that ended up all over the news. Here, though, in this fantasy land, it felt like the rules were different. And it was fun.

He reached out with senses beyond mere sight and sound. During the scuffle earlier, he'd sensed an unusually nimble presence darting away – likely the thief. Focusing now, he felt for any nearby flickers of significant energy or malice. One stood out, faint but distinct, moving rapidly through the back-alleys: likely the thief making her escape, or heading toward whoever hired her.

Cain grinned. "Found you," he whispered to no one, and in a blur he dashed forward, the wind whipping at his heels.

Below, in a narrow alley not far from the market, Felt – the young thief – leaned against a wall catching her breath. She peeked into her hand at the prize: Emilia's dragon insignia, a beautiful oval crystal that glowed faintly. Her golden eyes gleamed with triumph. Old Man Rom would be happy; he could likely fetch a hefty sum from that mysterious client who wanted this thing.

Felt pushed off the wall, preparing to head to the arranged meet-up, when a voice echoed from above.

"Nice night for parkour, isn't it?"

Startled, Felt looked up just as a shadow dropped from the rooftop. She tensed, ready to bolt, when the figure landed lightly in front of her, blocking the alley's exit. It was a man – tall, dark-haired, and annoyingly good-looking (Felt noticed that despite herself). He wore a smug grin like he owned the place.

Felt clicked her tongue. "Outta my way, fancy pants. I don't have time for autographs."

Cain chuckled. This girl had spunk. "Cute, but I'm actually here for something you have," he said, casually stepping closer. Despite his relaxed posture, he was poised to react if she tried to flee. "A pretty little gem? Purple? Belongs to a friend of mine."

Felt's eyes darted to the pouch at her side where she'd stashed the insignia. She tried to mask the motion, but Cain's sharp eyes caught it. She scowled, pulling out a dagger. "I stole that fair and square! If you think you can take it—"

In a blink, Cain was right in front of her. He didn't even draw a weapon – he simply raised two fingers and gently flicked Felt's forehead, just as he had done to the thug earlier (albeit with far less force). The girl yelped, stumbling back, more surprised than hurt. In that split-second, Cain's other hand plucked the pouch from her belt.

"Yoink." He dangled the pouch lazily. "I'll be taking this."

Felt's temper flared. No one got one over on her like that! She lunged with her dagger aimed at his thigh – an attack to disable, not kill, but swift and precise for a street-hardened thief of her caliber.

Cain's free hand snapped down and caught her wrist mid-stab. His grip was firm, unyielding, yet he didn't hurt her. She struggled for a moment, but it was like trying to bend steel. "Tsk, feisty," Cain chided softly. "I like your spirit, kid. You've got guts." His grin turned almost predatory, eyes glinting with an excitement that made Felt shiver. "But you're out of your league."

She stared at him, frustration and fear warring in her chest. This man wasn't even serious, and he had disarmed her like a child. Who in the world was he?

Suddenly, a deep, rumbling voice echoed from behind Felt, further down the alley. "Felt, lass, you alright?!"

Cain looked up to see a towering figure lumber into view: an elderly giant of a man, bald-headed with a bushy beard, carrying a massive wooden club. Old Man Rom, if Cain recalled correctly – Felt's guardian of sorts. The giant's small eyes widened at the scene: his precious Felt held at the mercy of some stranger.

"Oy! Let her go!" Rom roared, charging forward, club raised.

Cain considered the incoming giant thoughtfully. It wouldn't do to make a bad first impression on everyone… Perhaps a show of goodwill?

He released Felt's wrist gently and stepped back just as Rom swung the club in a wide arc. Instead of jumping away, Cain casually raised his forearm. CLACK! Wood met flesh – and stopped dead. Cain had blocked the enormous club with one arm, and he hadn't budged an inch.

Rom's jaw dropped, still straining against the deadlock. He was using all his strength, and it was as though this slim young man was a brick wall. Cain sighed, almost disappointed. "We done with the surprises?" he asked dryly. With a flick of his arm, he pushed the club back, sending Rom stumbling a few steps.

Not wanting to escalate things, Cain tossed the pouch with the insignia up and caught it again to draw their attention. "If it's any consolation," he said to Felt and Rom, "I'm not here to hurt either of you. I just wanted to retrieve this." He patted the pouch. "Call it a retrieval mission on behalf of the rightful owner."

Felt rubbed her sore forehead, glaring daggers. "That witch? Hah, like she deserves it." Despite her defiance, she edged closer to Rom, not stupid enough to continue alone.

Cain's gaze sharpened slightly. Witch? She must mean Emilia, likely parroting what her client or others said. He shrugged. "Deserving or not, stealing's stealing, kid. I happen to dislike thieves." His tone grew briefly cold, a flash of something darker crossing his face. In his mind surfaced an image – something from his past perhaps – but as quickly as it came, he dismissed it. No need to get broody now.

Footsteps and voices suddenly echoed from the far end of the alley – more people approaching. Cain recognized one voice, bright and worried: Emilia. The other was unfamiliar yet confident, commanding the others to hurry.

Within moments, Emilia and Puck emerged into the alley, followed by a striking young man with fiery red hair and a white uniform emblazoned with the royal crest – a knight, by the look of him. He carried a sword at his hip and moved with restrained power. Cain's eyes narrowed in recognition. Reinhardt van Astrea, the Sword Saint himself. Now things were really getting interesting.

Emilia's face lit up with relief when she saw Cain holding the pouch. "Cain! You found it!" she exclaimed, taking a step forward. Her gaze flickered to Felt and Rom, and she added in a softer voice, "I see you found the thief too…"

Felt clenched her teeth. "Tch, more of you. And the damn half-elf herself." She shot a look at Rom, whose posture had gone from aggressive to protective, placing himself partly in front of Felt.

Reinhardt stepped forward calmly. Despite his youth, he carried an aura of nobility and kindness. He glanced at the giant and the small girl behind him, and gave a polite bow. "Old Rom, Felt," he greeted them evenly, as though meeting at a tavern rather than a back-alley confrontation. "I'm glad you're both safe."

Cain raised an eyebrow. So Reinhardt already knew them – of course, he did in the story. Likely he had been searching for Felt because of the insignia's importance revealing her royal candidacy.

"Sir Reinhardt," Rom grumbled, lowering his club but not quite relaxing. "You know I'd never let any harm come to Felt."

Reinhardt smiled. "I believe you. However, taking an insignia from a royal candidate is a serious crime. We must set this right."

He then turned to Cain, blue eyes assessing. "And you… You have my gratitude for apprehending the culprit and retrieving the insignia." Reinhardt placed a hand over his chest in a knightly gesture of thanks, but Cain could sense the Sword Saint's curiosity beneath his courteous exterior. "I don't believe we've met. My name is Reinhardt van Astrea, knight of the royal guard."

Cain couldn't resist. He gave a half-bow with a flourish, his arrogance undimmed. "Cain… of nowhere in particular," he replied. "Just a traveler with a penchant for helping lovely maidens in distress." He shot a quick grin at Emilia, who blushed and looked away momentarily.

Reinhardt's polite smile remained, but there was a glint in his eye. "Your skill is impressive. I witnessed your leap earlier across the rooftops, and now this." He glanced at Rom's hefty club, then at the unscathed Cain. "It seems Lugunica has gained another formidable adventurer."

Cain chuckled. "Formidable? Sure, I've been called that. Adventurer, though… that has a nice ring to it." He tossed the pouch to Emilia, who caught it gratefully. "I believe this belongs to you, Emilia."

Emilia held the pouch to her chest, relief flooding her face. "Thank you, Cain. I can't thank you enough." She then looked at Felt, her expression not angry but gentle. "You must have had your reasons… but please, that item is very important to me."

Felt bristled, expecting a scolding or pity. She got neither, just a sincere look from the half-elf. It only made her more irritable. "Hmph. Whatever. I already got paid up front to steal it. Keep your damn rock."

She crossed her arms, but Cain didn't miss the slight tremble of her fingers. Under her tough facade, the girl was nervous – perhaps of Reinhardt's presence and what it meant.

Reinhardt regarded Felt kindly. "Felt, I know you're not a bad person. You were hired, as you said. But the fact you could hold that insignia without it rejecting you means—"

"Means what?" Felt snapped, though Cain could see Reinhardt's gentleness confused her.

The red-haired knight paused, then gave a small smile. "Perhaps a conversation for later. For now, let us return this insignia to its rightful owner and forget any ugliness. I will ensure no charges are pressed." He bowed slightly to Emilia. "Miss Emilia, you have your treasure back, and I think we should all withdraw from this alley before further misunderstandings occur."

Emilia nodded in agreement. Puck floated around happily. "Yes, yes, all's well that ends well!" the cat spirit chimed. He then looked at Cain. "Though I must say it ended particularly well thanks to our new friend here."

Cain shrugged, slipping his hands casually into his pockets. "Like I said, just doing my good deed for the day." He turned to Felt and Rom. "No hard feelings. I admire your hustle, kid. Next time, though, maybe steal something not tied to national affairs."

Felt frowned, not entirely sure if she was being insulted or complimented. Rom, meanwhile, let out a long breath and scratched his head. "I need a drink," the old giant muttered, weary from the adrenaline.

Reinhardt gently placed a hand on Felt's shoulder. "Would you come with me, Felt? I have a proposition that might interest you." His tone was friendly, but Cain suspected Reinhardt intended to reveal her potential royal candidacy soon.

Felt blinked up at him. "Huh? Why would I—"

Rom put a big hand on her other shoulder. "Hear the boy out, Felt. Sir Reinhardt's a decent sort. If he's got something to say, it might be worth listening."

Felt clicked her tongue but fell quiet, curiosity piqued despite herself.

Emilia stepped over to Cain's side. She looked at him with eyes full of gratitude and something else – a kind of wonder. "I'm not sure how to thank you properly," she said softly. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost this." She opened her palm to peek at the purple crystal insignia, which glimmered faintly with a dragon emblem inside.

Cain waved a hand dismissively, though he enjoyed her appreciation. "No thanks necessary. I was getting bored anyway. Besides—" he flashed a roguish smile, "I couldn't very well say no to you, could I?"

Emilia's cheeks warmed for what felt like the dozenth time that evening. His unabashed charm was overwhelming, yet strangely welcome. Puck rolled his eyes in good humor. "Easy there, Casanova," the spirit laughed. "At this rate poor Lia's face will stay red."

The group began to make their way out of the alley. As they emerged back into a main street under the evening sky, lamplights were being lit one by one. Reinhardt gently led Felt and Rom ahead, discussing something in low tones that made the young thief's eyes go wide. Emilia, Cain, and Puck followed a short distance behind.

"So, Cain," Emilia began, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "you mentioned you're a traveler. Do you have a place to stay tonight?"

Cain stretched his arms lazily overhead. Truthfully, he hadn't thought that far. He'd arrived in this world only an hour or two ago, after all. "Can't say I've booked a royal suite just yet," he joked. "But I'm not too picky. I've slept under open skies before."

Emilia frowned at that. "You… you were just going to sleep outside? That won't do." She paused, then spoke with a hopeful lilt, "Um, I happen to know a place. It's a bit of a distance from the capital, but we have room. And I'd feel better knowing you weren't out on the street after what you've done for me."

Cain glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He knew where this was going – Roswaal's mansion, presumably. In the story, Emilia had brought Subaru there after he helped her. Now, it seemed, he had impressed her enough to earn the same offer.

Staying at Roswaal L. Mathers' estate… Cain's grin widened at the thought of meeting the eccentric lord, not to mention the other characters likely there. Rem and Ram, Beatrice… The harem list in his mind practically glowed. This would be fun.

"I'd be honored to accept, if it's truly no trouble," Cain replied graciously, though his eyes twinkled with mischief. "I wouldn't want to impose on your hospitality."

Emilia shook her head firmly, smiling. "It's no imposition. I'll make sure it's alright. And I'm sure you'll get along well with everyone." She sounded a bit like she was convincing herself, but her smile became more genuine. "Besides, it will give me a chance to properly repay you."

Puck chimed in, landing on Cain's shoulder unexpectedly. The little spirit peered at him from up close. "And it will give us a chance to keep an eye on you, mister." Though his tone was playful, Cain caught the protective undertone. Puck still intended to watch out for Emilia's safety, and Cain was an unknown variable.

Cain didn't mind. In fact, he found Puck's protective streak amusing. "Fair enough, furball," he whispered conspiratorially, just to tease. Puck lightly bopped Cain's cheek with his tail in response, but the spirit's laugh showed he wasn't truly upset.

As they reached the main plaza near the city gate, Reinhardt concluded his conversation with Felt and Rom. Felt looked equal parts flustered and excited. Rom was openly sobbing tears of joy (to everyone's confusion except Reinhardt's). The Sword Saint turned to the group. "Lady Emilia, I trust you have everything in order now?"

Emilia nodded politely. "Yes, Sir Reinhardt. Thank you so much for your help."

Reinhardt shook his head, smiling. "I did very little. Our friend Cain here did the heavy lifting." He extended a hand to Cain. "I hope our paths cross again, Cain. Perhaps under calmer circumstances."

Cain accepted the handshake. Reinhardt's grip was firm, strong – probably strong enough to crush stone if he wanted – but Cain met it with equal strength effortlessly. The red-haired knight's eyes widened just a fraction at the realization before his grin widened. The two men regarded each other with mutual respect… and perhaps the tiniest spark of rivalry.

"I look forward to it, Sir Reinhardt," Cain replied, his tone carrying a hint of challenge. "Maybe next time, you can show me a trick or two."

Reinhardt chuckled. "Perhaps. Safe travels, everyone."

With that, the Sword Saint departed with Felt and Rom in tow – likely to present Felt as a surprise sixth royal candidate at the palace. Cain waved lazily at the trio, then turned back to Emilia.

Emilia let out a soft, tired sigh, tucking her insignia safely inside her dress. "What a day… I feel like so much has happened in just a few hours."

Cain stifled a laugh. If only she knew how much more eventful things were going to get with him around. "Eventful, yes. But it ended on a high note, right?"

Emilia met his gaze, smiling under the lamplight. "Yes. Thanks to you."

Cain gave a dramatic flip of his hair, flashing a movie-star smile. "I do aim to please."

Emilia giggled, shaking her head at his unabashed self-satisfaction. Puck, now settled in her arms half-asleep, murmured something that sounded like "show-off" which Cain took as a compliment.

Before long, a finely decorated dragon carriage – a large coach drawn by a scaled earth dragon – pulled up at the gate. Emilia had arranged transportation back to Roswaal's estate. As the three of them climbed in, Cain settled opposite Emilia on the plush seats. The carriage jolted to a start, rolling out of the capital down moonlit roads.

Through the window, Cain watched the city lights fade, his thoughts racing with anticipation. He had introduced himself to this world with a bang. He had already met several key players, and more awaited at their destination. As night fell, Cain leaned back with arms crossed behind his head, eyes gleaming in the dark. This new world promised epic battles, unpredictable magic, and fascinating people – all the things he loved.

He smirked to himself, glancing at Emilia gently stroking a dozing Puck's fur across from him. Epic fantasy, humor, romance… She caught him looking and offered a shy smile, which he returned with a wink that made her blush once more. Yes, this world was going to be very fun indeed.

Cain closed his eyes, feigning a nap as the carriage carried them onward. In truth, he was simply savoring the calm before the inevitable storm of adventures. Whatever challenges lay ahead – be it beasts, cultists, witches or worse – he was ready. After all, this time he was the wild card in the deck, the unpredictable factor unbound by the original fate of this world.

And Cain – impossibly strong, devilishly charming Cain – couldn't wait to play the game his way.

⸻

Chapter 2: The Devil in the Mansion

Morning sunlight filtered through lace-curtained windows, bathing the opulent guest room in a soft glow. Cain stirred awake, though in truth he'd been lounging in a light doze for a while, luxuriating in the rare comfort of a feather bed. It made for a pleasant change from the spartan accommodations of his past adventures.

He stretched, cat-like, and sat up to take in his surroundings. The room given to him was spacious and finely furnished: polished wood floors partly covered by an ornate rug, a wardrobe carved with rose motifs, and a small bookshelf in the corner. A vase of fresh flowers sat on a side table, their fragrance mingling with the crisp morning air. Everything screamed wealthy estate.

Cain smirked. Roswaal's hospitality, he presumed – or rather, Emilia's. They had arrived late last night at the Margrave's mansion after a long carriage ride. Cain recalled how a sleepy Emilia had groggily introduced him to a perplexed Ram at the door. The pink-haired maid had given him a once-over that lingered on his messy dark hair and casual smirk with visible disdain before quietly showing him to this room. Cain chuckled at the memory. Ram's haughtiness and immediate disapproval of him were almost amusingly palpable.

He couldn't blame her – he had arrived unannounced, a stranger under her master's roof. And Ram didn't strike him as someone easily impressed by appearances or charm. That's fine, Cain thought, rolling his shoulders. He did love a challenge. Winning over the cynical maid (and perhaps her sister) would be entertaining.

A soft knock came at the door. "Guest Cain, are you awake?" a cool female voice called. Speak of the devil – Cain recognized Ram's polite yet distant tone.

"I am, my dear," Cain drawled in response, making sure to sound especially well-rested and cheerful just to needle her. "Please, come in."

The door opened, revealing Ram in her classic black-and-white maid uniform, pink hair impeccably neat despite the early hour. She carried a silver tray with a porcelain teapot and cup. Her crimson eyes swept the room before settling on Cain, who was still lounging shirtless on the bed with sheets pooled at his waist.

For the briefest moment, Cain caught a flicker of surprise in her eyes at his state of undress – but it was gone in a blink, replaced by her usual dispassionate stare. If a perfectly sculpted physique and chiseled abs fazed her, she hid it well.

Ram stepped inside, closing the door behind her with her foot. "Good morning," she said curtly. "Lady Emilia has requested that I attend to your needs during your stay, however long that may be." Her tone made it clear she doubted it would be long. She placed the tray on a side table and began pouring the tea gracefully. "I've brought green tea. Our coffers are limited on foreign leaves, so I hope this meets your standards."

Cain slipped out of bed and donned the shirt he'd tossed over a chair last night. He made no hurry, aware that Ram's gaze followed his movements critically. He noted how she kept her posture rigid, the perfect picture of a loyal servant, but her eyes… they held open skepticism.

"Green tea is perfect, thank you," Cain replied, meeting her gaze with a warm smile as he approached. He took the offered teacup, his fingers briefly brushing Ram's gloved hand. She didn't flinch, but he noticed her jaw tighten slightly. Sensitive, eh?

Ram watched as Cain sipped the tea. "How do you find your accommodations?" she asked, more out of obligation than genuine interest.

"Splendid. Far better than a haystack under the stars," Cain quipped. "Please extend my thanks to Roswaal. I assume he's the one footing the bill for my little vacation here."

Ram's lips pressed in a thin line at his breezy mention of her master's name without honorifics. "Lord Roswaal is aware of Lady Emilia's guests," she replied carefully. "He is away on business and not currently at the mansion, but he will return soon. In the meantime, as Lady Emilia said, you are welcome here." The unspoken for now hung in the air.

Cain took another leisurely sip, smirking. He rather enjoyed Ram's prickly demeanor. "Well, I appreciate it. I'll be sure to thank him personally when he arrives… perhaps with a song and dance. I hear he's a flamboyant fellow."

Ram's composure flickered at his flippant joke about her master. She swiftly changed the subject, clearly deciding it was too early for this nonsense. "Breakfast will be served in the dining hall shortly. Lady Emilia and my sister Rem will be present. I trust you will dress… appropriately." Her eyes drifted disapprovingly to his casual attire – yesterday's clothes, a bit rumpled.

Cain glanced down at himself. "What, this isn't black-tie enough?" he teased. Then he gave a light laugh and raised a hand. "Don't worry, I came prepared." With a small burst of energy – just a tiny spark of the vast power within him – he flicked his fingers.

In an instant, dust and wrinkles seemed to jump off his clothes as if frightened away. The fabric smoothed itself, looking freshly laundered and pressed. Even his hair, which had been slightly messy, settled into perfect, stylish tousles that framed his face.

Ram's eyes widened a fraction at the display. It looked like magic, but she hadn't detected any mana use or incantation. Just who was this man, pulling such a trick so casually?

Cain brushed an imaginary speck off his sleeve. "There. Presentable enough for breakfast?" he asked innocently.

Ram regained her cool and turned to open the door. "Hmph. Just try not to embarrass Lady Emilia," she said flatly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. "Follow me, please."

Cain obliged, trailing a step behind as Ram led him through the mansion's elegant halls. Plush red carpets, gilded trim, and oil portraits of distinguished figures adorned the interior. The place was lavish but also strangely cozy in the morning light filtering through tall windows.

They descended a grand staircase where Cain noted a petite girl with short sky-blue hair at the bottom, arranging a vase of flowers on a table. Rem, without a doubt – Ram's younger twin. Though identical in face and figure, everything from her expression to her demeanor contrasted her sister. Where Ram was stern and aloof, Rem's face carried a gentle, if somewhat timid, warmth.

Rem sensed their approach and turned. Her blue eyes fell upon Cain and widened in surprise. It seemed she hadn't been informed of him beyond perhaps a mention last night.

"Good morning, Ram. And… guest," Rem greeted politely, bowing her head. Her voice was soft-spoken and respectful.

Ram gave a single nod. "This is Cain, the traveler Lady Emilia invited. Cain, this is my sister, Rem."

Cain offered Rem a charming smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Rem. I must say, the flowers here pale in comparison to you."

Rem's cheeks took on a dusting of pink. She blinked, clearly not used to direct compliments, especially from handsome strangers first thing in the morning. "Oh… um, thank you, Mr. Cain," she replied, flustered but courteous. "I hope you slept well?"

"Exceedingly well. I have you and your sister to thank for maintaining such a lovely home," Cain said smoothly, laying it on thick just to see Ram's reaction. Sure enough, Ram narrowed her eyes slightly at his compliment to them.

Rem smiled shyly at the praise for their work. "You're too kind."

Ram cleared her throat. "Rem, we should bring out breakfast. Lady Emilia will join shortly." Her tone softened just a touch when addressing Rem, Cain noticed.

"Yes, sister." Rem gave Cain one more curious glance before hurrying off toward what he presumed was the kitchen.

Ram gestured for Cain to continue with her toward the dining hall. As they walked, Cain noted subtle differences in the hallways, trying to recall the layout from descriptions he once read. He might need to find the forbidden library at some point – Beatrice's domain.

They entered the dining room: a long table of dark polished wood, sunlight streaming through tall windows onto fine china and steaming dishes already set out. Cain's nose caught the aroma of freshly baked bread, eggs, and some kind of herbal soup. His stomach gave an appreciative rumble. Being near-invincible didn't curb his appetite, especially not for a good meal.

Ram positioned him at the table's side, then moved to stand by the wall – the dutiful attendant. Cain, however, casually remained standing for the moment, hands resting on the back of the chair offered to him. He was waiting for the guest of honor.

Right on cue, Emilia appeared in the doorway, smoothing the skirt of her lavender dress. Puck was perched on her shoulder in a tiny form, yawning widely (morning was not his active time). Upon seeing Cain, Emilia's face brightened.

"Good morning, Cain!" she greeted cheerfully as she approached the table. "I trust you slept well?"

Cain inclined his head with a playful half-bow. "Morning, Emilia. Like a baby draped in silk, thanks to your hospitality."

Emilia giggled at his phrasing and took her seat at the head of the table. Cain slid into the seat beside her, ignoring the slight breach in formal seating – he probably should have sat a bit farther given her status, but he didn't particularly care and Emilia didn't seem to mind.

Rem soon entered carrying a basket of warm bread rolls and set it on the table. She then took a spot standing by the opposite wall, across from her sister, both maids awaiting any requests.

Emilia eyed Cain's already-ready plate – clearly he was expected to serve himself – and motioned kindly. "Please, help yourself. I hope the food is to your liking."

Cain didn't need a second invitation. He reached for a roll, tore a piece and popped it in his mouth. It was fluffy, buttery, with a hint of herbs – delicious. "My compliments to the chefs," he said, smiling between bites. He glanced at Rem and Ram. "Did you two make all this?"

Rem answered with a proud little nod. "Yes, we handle all cooking and cleaning for the mansion. I'm happy you enjoy it." Ram simply watched, arms crossed, as if daring him to find a flaw.

Emilia began nibbling on a roll herself. "Rem is an excellent cook," she praised. "I'm still learning, but she's been teaching me some dishes."

Cain imagined sweet, earnest Emilia trying to learn domestic chores – likely for the sake of being a good ruler who understood everyday tasks. It was cute. "I'm sure whatever you make, Emilia, it's wonderful," he said sincerely.

She laughed lightly. "You haven't seen me burn soup yet. But thank you for the vote of confidence."

As they began eating heartier portions – eggs, salad, soup – conversation flowed pleasantly. Emilia asked Cain about his travels, clearly interested in learning more about him.

Cain wove a light tale – mostly truthful, if lacking detail. He mentioned coming from a faraway land, avoiding specifics about being from another world or about Super Saiyan transformations (no need to cause confusion yet). He described journeying alone, seeking excitement and challenges, which explained his fighting prowess. He threw in a humorous anecdote about "accidentally angering a mountain troll by complimenting its mother," which made Emilia laugh and even earned a tiny suppressed smile from Rem.

Ram, however, remained stoic, occasionally narrowing her eyes if Cain's story grew too fantastical. At one point she cut in, voice dripping with skepticism: "And we are to believe you single-handedly 'convinced' this troll to stand down with mere words?"

Cain met her gaze innocently. "Well, words and a friendly tap on the head. Hard-headed fellow, that troll." He tapped his knuckles lightly on the table for emphasis. The slight dent left behind in the solid wood made Rem's eyes widen and Ram's lips purse. Cain just gave Ram a wink. "But I assure you, it was a love tap."

Puck, now fully awake and sitting on the table nibbling a tiny biscuit, chuckled. "You really are something, Cain. To be able to stop a rampaging troll…that's no small feat."

Cain shrugged modestly. "I've found that most problems in life can be solved with either a kind word or a strong hand. I just happen to excel at using both."

Emilia regarded Cain with a mixture of admiration and mild reprimand. "I just hope you don't always resort to violence," she said softly. "I believe even the hardest hearts can be reached with understanding… sometimes."

Her idealism was showing. Cain gave her a gentle smile, surprising Ram who likely expected another flippant remark. "You have a good heart, Emilia. I respect that. And truth be told, I prefer avoiding needless violence too. But worry not – I only rough up those who truly deserve it." His smile twisted roguishly. "Or those who ask nicely."

Emilia wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, but Puck snickered. Ram rolled her eyes at his irreverence, while Rem hid a giggle behind her hand.

As breakfast wound down, Emilia dabbed her lips with a napkin. "Cain, if you're up for it, I could show you around the manor and the grounds today. I realized we didn't give you a proper tour."

Cain leaned back, folding his arms behind his head in a casual stretch. "I'd like that," he said. "Though, I'm especially interested in meeting all the residents here." He glanced slyly toward the door. "Unless there's someone hiding. I heard rumors of a certain… librarian?"

Emilia's face brightened. "Oh, you must mean Beatrice! Yes, we should introduce you." She turned to the maids. "Rem, could you check if Beatrice is accepting visitors this morning?"

Rem bowed. "Right away, Lady Emilia." She quietly exited the dining hall.

Ram finally stepped forward from the wall, picking up the empty dishes with brisk efficiency. "While Rem does that, I will be clearing the table. Lady Emilia, please let me know if you need anything else."

Emilia shook her head. "Thank you, Ram."

Cain watched Ram begin stacking plates. He stood abruptly, picking up the platter of remaining rolls and handing it to her. "Allow me to help."

Ram looked as if he'd just spoken in tongues. A guest, offering to help a maid clear the table? She blinked, momentarily at a loss. "That won't be necessary. This is my duty."

Cain simply held the platter until she, with some reluctance, accepted it. He then gathered a few more items within reach, piling them neatly. "What kind of freeloader would I be if I didn't lend a hand? I insist."

Ram gave a small tsk of annoyance. Perhaps she suspected he was mocking them by pretending to help. Nonetheless, Cain's disarming grin as he effortlessly balanced a stack of bowls made it hard for her to chastise him without seeming ungrateful. She settled for a curt nod and took the bowls. "As you wish," she murmured stiffly before heading out toward the kitchen with arms full.

Emilia looked at Cain with a soft expression. "That was kind of you. Though now I fear Ram will think she's not doing her job well enough."

Cain laughed. "She'll live. A little kindness never hurt anyone, right?"

Emilia smiled, clearly pleased with how well Cain was fitting in. Truthfully, Cain's mind was already a few steps ahead: meeting Beatrice would tick another name off his mental list. If things went as he foresaw, his presence here would ripple out and draw others to him in due time. It was a game of patience and impact.

Rem returned shortly, hands folded demurely. "Lady Emilia, Beatrice says, 'I suppose I can spare a moment, in fact.'" Rem did a surprisingly good mimic of Beatrice's haughty tone and verbal tic, causing Emilia to stifle a laugh.

"Alright then," Emilia said, standing. "Cain, are you ready to meet her?"

He hopped up, stretching. "Lead the way."

They traversed the mansion's west wing. Cain felt excitement stir. Beatrice's library was notoriously hard to find unless she allowed it. But with Rem guiding them, they soon arrived at a certain plain door along a corridor that Cain might have otherwise overlooked.

Rem opened the door to what appeared to be… a closet? Cain quickly realized the trick as he passed through – a swirl of mana and spatial distortion. The interior blossomed out into a grand library hall filled floor to ceiling with books. The air smelled of old pages and a faint sweet scent like tea and candy.

In the center, atop a ladder leaning against a tall bookshelf, was Beatrice. The little great spirit had her back turned, standing on tiptoe to slide a tome into place. Her frilly pink dress and drill-curled hair made her look like a life-sized doll.

Hearing the door open, Beatrice spoke without looking. "If you came to pester Betty with trifles, I suggest you turn right back around, I suppose."

Emilia stepped forward cheerfully. "Good morning, Beatrice!"

Beatrice glanced over her shoulder and upon seeing Emilia, she climbed down the ladder with a huff. "Oh, it's you. You've brought an intruder, I see." Her sky-blue eyes fixed on Cain with keen interest thinly veiled by irritation. "Is this the noisy boor who's thrown the mansion into gossip, in fact?"

Cain dramatically placed a hand on his chest as if wounded. "Noisy boor? And here I was told I made a good first impression."

Beatrice floated to the ground (for she indeed hovered slightly rather than fully stepped) and walked up to Cain, arms crossed. She was quite short – barely reaching above his stomach – yet she projected an air of authority. "Hmm." She circled him slowly, inspecting from all angles like one might a questionable piece of furniture. Cain allowed it, amused.

Emilia bit her lip, looking apologetic. "Beatrice… Cain has been very kind. Please be nice."

Beatrice sniffed. "Betty will judge that for herself, I suppose." Once she'd completed a circle, she stopped in front of Cain, meeting his gaze with a fierce pout. "Well? State your business with Betty. Did you come to gawk at the witch's doll, just like Mother said people would, in fact?"

Her words had a bitter edge that tugged at Cain's heart. He remembered that Beatrice was often dismissed by others, and she anticipated cruelty or indifference as the Witch of Greed's artificial daughter. But he wasn't about to give her pity; that would only insult her.

Instead, he gave a formal bow, as if greeting royalty. "Lady Beatrice, I presume. I am Cain, a humble traveler saved by Lady Emilia's generosity. I've heard tales of a magnificent library and its even more magnificent keeper. Naturally, I had to see both with my own eyes."

Beatrice blinked, cheeks coloring ever so slightly at being called magnificent. "Flattery will get you nowhere, I suppose," she retorted, though a tiny pleased smile threatened at the corner of her lips. "Still… you have manners, unlike some barbarians Betty could name."

Cain suspected she referred to a certain someone who used to barge in frequently – Subaru likely. He smirked. "Only the very best for a spirit of your stature."

Beatrice's eyes narrowed. She felt the truth in his words—this Cain truly wasn't treating her like a child or a freak, but rather giving the respect one might to a wise sage. It disarmed her usual defenses a bit. "Hmph. You certainly carry yourself boldly, I suppose."

Suddenly, Beatrice floated up to eye-level with Cain, her face inches from his. Those big blue eyes bored into his own dark ones. Cain held still, curious what she was up to.

She sniffed him. Literally sniffed, as if smelling for something. Then her eyes widened slightly in confusion. "No smell… nothing." Beatrice murmured, more to herself. "No mana, no contract, and certainly not the Witch's miasma…"

Cain realized she was trying to detect any traces of Witch Cult or maybe his power source, but since his energy (ki, one could call it) wasn't Od-based or mana-based, it likely felt odd or absent to her senses.

"Are you perhaps disappointed I didn't come perfumed?" he quipped gently.

Beatrice frowned at being caught, and lowered herself to the ground. "It's standard procedure to inspect suspicious guests, in fact."

Emilia stepped forward and crouched a bit to Beatrice's height. "Cain isn't suspicious, I promise. He helped me a lot. I thought maybe you two would get along."

"Is that so?" Beatrice looked between Emilia's earnest smile and Cain's amused grin. The great spirit let out a sigh. "Betty supposes any friend of Lia's can't be all bad, I suppose."

Cain seized the opening. "Friends, is it? I'm honored." He extended a hand as if to shake the little girl's hand, but then smoothly turned it palm up, offering it as one might to dance.

Beatrice raised an eyebrow at the odd gesture. "What is this buffoonery, I suppose?"

Cain's grin only widened. "May I have the grand tour of your library, Lady Beatrice? Perhaps accompanied by its caretaker?"

Emilia watched with fascination as Cain treated Beatrice like a refined lady. Rem, standing quietly by the door, covered her mouth to hide a small smile. None in the mansion had ever tried something so bold with Beatrice.

Beatrice was flustered, though she'd die before admitting it. "You intend to waltz around looking at books? How utterly nonsensical, in fact."

But Cain didn't retract his offered hand. He bowed slightly, waiting patiently. Beatrice's foot tapped as she debated internally. Finally, with a long-suffering sigh, she placed her small hand in his. "Just this once, I suppose! Consider yourself fortunate that Betty indulges your foolishness."

Cain gently led her in a slow promenade down one aisle of bookshelves, matching her tiny steps with his longer ones by going at an easy pace. Emilia had to stifle laughter behind them; the sight was endearing and comical at once – Cain escorting the little spirit like a princess through her domain. Beatrice cleared her throat and began rattling off facts to cover her embarrassment. "This is the Mathers Library, containing arcane knowledge collected over generations. Do not dare mistreat the books, or Betty will know, in fact."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Cain responded lightly, eyes scanning titles. Many were in languages he didn't recognize, others clearly grimoires of magic. "Perhaps you could recommend a good read for a newcomer like me? Something about Lugunica's history or famous legends? I'm quite interested in this land's lore."

Beatrice blinked up at him, clearly not expecting a guest to actually ask to read seriously. Her pride as librarian engaged, she brightened a bit. "If it's lore you seek… hmm." She floated up, tugging him by the hand (he allowed himself to be pulled). She went down another row and pointed at a thick blue tome. Cain released her to retrieve it carefully. It was surprisingly heavy, the title in gold script: "Chronicles of the Dragon Kingdom."

"That covers the history of Lugunica and notable figures," Beatrice explained. "It's a good foundation, I suppose."

Cain tucked the hefty book under his arm. "Thank you, Beatrice."

She sniffed, trying to look indifferent. "You can read it here. The library is always open to Betty's… guests." That last word came after a tiny pause, perhaps substituting friend or contractor she wished she had.

Emilia approached, smiling warmly at Beatrice. "It's good to see you open up a little."

Beatrice flushed. "Betty is not softening. I'm simply ensuring this fool doesn't remain ignorant while under our roof, in fact."

Cain chuckled but didn't tease her further. He recognized an opportunity: Beatrice's acceptance, even grudging, was a big step.

With that, they gently concluded the visit. Cain promised to return the book and discuss it with Beatrice later, which earned a pleased hmph from the spirit. As the trio left the library (Rem silently closing the door behind them, the portal shimmering away), Cain felt a sense of accomplishment.

Emilia, Rem, Ram, Beatrice – he had met them all and, in his estimation, made decent first impressions. Emilia was clearly fond of him already. Rem seemed politely charmed. Ram was a harder nut, but he enjoyed the challenge there. Beatrice, for all her bluster, didn't hate him – which for Beatrice basically equaled liking.

As they wandered back toward the main hall, Emilia said she needed to handle some correspondence. That left Cain free for a bit. He decided to wander outside to see the mansion grounds and maybe test his limits in this world's environment.

Excusing himself, he stepped out into the gardens. The morning had progressed into a beautiful day. Well-tended hedges, colorful flowerbeds, and a sparkling fountain greeted him. Cain strolled along a path, hands in pockets, whistling a soft tune.

It was peaceful… a bit too peaceful perhaps, he mused. But he knew it wouldn't last long. If events stayed on course, something interesting was bound to happen soon. Perhaps the curse-bearing dog in the village, the Mabeast attack at night? Yes, that was likely next on the timeline if things mirrored the story.

Cain smirked. He wouldn't mind a bit of action to spice up the day. For now, though, he closed his eyes and felt the gentle breeze, the warmth of the sun. Birds chirped in a nearby tree. He took a deep breath – the scent of roses and fresh grass filling his lungs.

Such tranquil moments were rare for someone of his power; usually, he found peace monotonous. But here and now, knowing the whirlwinds of chaos that lie ahead, he savored it. A calm before the storm.

And indeed, not far off, unseen in the shadows of the forest beyond the estate, a cluster of glowing red eyes watched the manor with malevolent patience. The day would pass uneventfully enough… but when night fell, something wicked would stir, as it always did in this world of peril and magic.

Cain felt a subtle prickle along his senses – a distant forewarning of danger. Instead of alarm, it brought a razor-sharp grin to his lips.

"Tonight, then," he murmured to himself, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. Whatever came – demon beasts, assassins, or worse – he was ready to meet it with supreme confidence.

Unbound by fate, he would carve a path of his own making, and have a damn good time doing it.

⸻

Chapter 3: A Night of Silver and Blood

A fat full moon hung over the quiet countryside, casting silvery light across the Roswaal estate and the dark forest encircling it. The hour was late; most of the mansion's inhabitants had retired. Emilia had long since gone to her chambers after a pleasant evening chatting with Cain about the royal selection and life at court, while Puck had bid them all goodnight before vanishing (as he always did when the clock struck nine, much to Cain's curiosity).

Now, the halls were silent. Cain's temporary bedroom was dark, but he was not in it. Sleep was unnecessary for him tonight. Instead, he stood on the mansion's rooftop beneath the moonlight, arms folded as he surveyed the grounds with vigilant eyes.

He could feel it – something foul lurking beyond the treeline. Like an oncoming storm, a hostile intent pressed at the edges of his senses. Cain's blood hummed. Any moment now…

As if on cue, a distant howl pierced the stillness of the night. Then another, closer. The hair on the back of an ordinary man's neck would have stood on end at the unearthly sound. Cain just smirked, adrenaline quietly thrumming in his veins.

At the edge of the forest, just beyond the property line, shadows moved. Shapes slunk between trees: unnatural quadrupedal forms with glowing red eyes and slavering jaws. Mabeasts – monstrous creatures born of witchcraft's taint. Cain recognized their aura from descriptions: these would be Ulgarm, the Wolgarms – dog-like demon beasts known to curse their victims with a bite.

In the original timeline, Cain recalled, a pack of these had attacked the nearby village after a curse was placed on a certain unlucky fellow, drawing them. That unlucky fellow would have been Subaru, courtesy of a little demon beast puppy that nipped him earlier in the day. But Cain had inadvertently changed things: Subaru wasn't here at the mansion at all (having not been involved in Arc 2 due to Cain's presence), so who could be cursed now?

Cain's eyes narrowed as he scanned the ground below. He saw a figure moving swiftly across the moonlit lawn toward the treeline – Rem, clad not in her maid dress, but a light combat outfit and carrying her flanged mace. She must have sensed the beasts or detected the curse on the villagers.

Indeed, earlier that day Rem and Ram visited the nearby Arlam village for routine errands. Cain had tagged along out of curiosity and goodwill, helping carry goods with ease (much to Ram's grudging appreciation, not that she voiced it). He remembered Rem tending sweetly to some children and one playful puppy licking her hand. A puppy with one blue eye, one yellow…

So, that was it. The little rascal had been a disguised Mabeast and likely bit someone – maybe Rem herself or a child. Rem must have discovered the curse mark, and now she was racing to eliminate the source before the curse could claim a life by dawn. Just as in the story, Rem wouldn't hesitate to protect the villagers, even if it meant facing a pack of monsters alone.

Cain clicked his tongue. Brave girl, but no way was he letting her have all the fun (and danger) by herself.

Without a sound, Cain leapt from the roof. To any observer it was as if he stepped off casually into empty air – then he dropped like a comet, landing on the grass below in a crouch. The impact was soft; he absorbed the energy effortlessly to avoid a crater that might wake the house. Immediately he dashed after Rem, a black blur against the pale night.

Rem reached the forest's edge, heart pounding but mind calm. In her hand, she clutched a small piece of paper with a drawn magical seal – a curse detection talisman. It glowed ominously now; the curse was active and near. She knew it was on the little boy she'd seen at the village – he had been bitten by what they thought was a stray dog earlier. The curse would kill him by morning if the caster (the Mabeast) wasn't destroyed.

She'd left a note for Ram and rushed out as soon as she confirmed it. Rem's only thought: Eliminate the threat quickly, protect everyone. Her demon-oni blood burned with resolve.

The howls grew louder. In the gloom between trunks, Rem spotted numerous red eyes reflecting the moonlight. At least a dozen beasts, maybe more, slinking closer. Saliva dripped from their fangs in anticipation of a kill.

Rem's grip on her iron flail tightened. She took a breath, summoning her mana. In an instant, a brilliant blue aura of mana surged around her. The air crackled with the sudden burst of power as Rem accessed her horn's strength indirectly (her actual horn long gone, but she could tap a fraction of its might).

With a fierce cry, Rem lunged forward, swinging her flail. The spiked mace head, attached by a long chain, whipped out and smashed into the first pair of glowing eyes that dared approach. A sickening crunch – the lead Ulgarm yelped once and fell, skull caved in by that devastating blow.

The pack snarled and rushed her all at once, shadows bounding through brush and over roots. Rem whirled gracefully, her flail dancing around her like a steel whirlwind. Crash! She felled another, then another – each strike precise and lethal. For a moment, it seemed the onslaught was manageable.

But the Mabeasts were cunning. Two larger wolgarms hung back, and at a guttural bark from one (perhaps the alpha), the remaining beasts fanned out, encircling Rem. She found herself with her back near a large oak, the pack forming a tightening ring.

One monster feinted at her left; she swung and it darted back, while another lunged from the right. Rem couldn't retract her flail in time and caught the brunt of the second beast's tackle with her body. She gasped as claws raked her shoulder, sharp pain blooming. Her momentum staggered, a third beast seized the opening and leapt for her legs, teeth aiming for flesh.

Suddenly, a flash of black and a burst of wind – and the third beast was gone. Literally gone, as if something yanked it back into the darkness at blinding speed. Rem scarcely processed this when a familiar voice echoed through the trees:

"Bad dog. Didn't your mother teach you not to bite?"

Rem's eyes widened. Cain?!

The remaining beasts snarled in confusion as a new figure stepped between Rem and them. Cain stood there, one arm casually held out to the side… gripping the wolf-dog that had pounced at Rem by its throat. The creature whimpered, legs dangling as it struggled in vain against the iron vice of Cain's grip.

Cain glanced over his shoulder at Rem and gave her a cocky smile. "Apologies for the lateness. Thought you could use a hand."

Rem was too shocked to respond immediately. He had followed her? And now he was— Her attention snapped back as the other beasts renewed their attack, now targeting Cain who had interfered.

With a collective snarl, two beasts lunged at him from the front, and another from behind aiming for his neck. Rem cried out a warning, "Mr. Cain, watch—!"

Before she finished, Cain moved. Or rather, he seemed to barely move at all. A subtle shift of weight, a blur of his free hand – and the two wolves in front were swatted aside mid-leap, sent crashing through bushes with yelps of pain. In the same fluid motion, he released the beast he'd caught, tossing it into the path of the one mid-air behind him. The two monsters collided comically and tumbled in a heap.

Rem stood thunderstruck. His motions were so fast and effortless. It was like watching a seasoned predator toy with puppies.

Cain dusted off his hands. "You alright, Rem?" he asked, as if they weren't in the middle of battle.

Rem found her voice, cheeks flushed from adrenaline (and embarrassment that she had been hit). "I-I'm fine. Just a scratch." Blood stained her shoulder where claws had torn her dress, but she truly felt little pain, the adrenaline masking it.

The pack regrouped, seven or eight remaining, not counting the ones already slain or knocked out. They circled the pair warily now. Cain stepped forward, shielding Rem with his body while she steadied herself.

"You shouldn't be here," Rem said, though her voice held relief. "It's dangerous, Mr. Cain."

Cain shot her a sidelong look of pure amusement. "Dangerous? For me? I'm hurt, Rem – have some faith." He winked, then his expression shifted to something more sincere briefly. "Besides, I wasn't about to let you face these ugly mutts alone. What kind of gentleman would I be?"

Rem's heart did a strange little flutter despite the deadly circumstances. But she quickly refocused. "Thank you… but be careful. Their bites carry a deadly curse."

Cain cracked his knuckles, the sound like gunshots in the quiet. "They'll be lucky if they get close enough to try." With that, he walked towards the glowing eyes, actually walking, unarmed, as if taking a stroll.

The alpha of the pack, a hulking shadow a head taller than the rest, growled menacingly. Cain met its red gaze without fear. The beast bared razor fangs and, with a howl, charged Cain head-on, encouraging the others to do the same in a last push.

Rem gathered her chain to strike at any that slipped past him, but what happened next almost made her jaw drop.

Cain waited until the alpha lunged – then simply reached out and grabbed the creature by its snout mid-leap. Muscles bulged under his shirt for a split second as he lifted the massive wolf overhead with one arm, its legs scrabbling futilely at empty air. With a slight grunt of effort (mostly for show), Cain slammed the alpha down onto the forest floor. The ground shook at the impact, a shockwave of force kicking up a ring of dust and leaves.

The alpha lay still, whimpering – surprisingly still alive, but clearly dazed and grievously hurt. The remaining beasts skidded to a halt, suddenly far less certain. One foolishly snapped at Cain's heels. He pivoted and delivered a light kick – the Mabeast sailed through the night sky with a pitiful yelp, disappearing among the trees far off.

At that display, the few survivors did what any sensible creature would: tails between legs, they fled, darting back into the dark woods howling in fear. In seconds, the clearing was silent save for the whine of the half-conscious alpha pinned under Cain's boot.

Rem stood amidst the carnage clutching her flail, chest heaving as the adrenaline coursed. She surveyed the clearing: several wolgarm bodies lay still; others had fled or been flung out of sight. Cain hadn't even transformed or drawn a weapon. He'd manhandled the entire pack like a pack of misbehaving puppies. It was… unreal.

Cain pressed his boot slightly on the alpha's neck, enough to keep it down, not enough to kill – yet. The giant beast growled weakly. Cain's expression turned cold, a sharp contrast to his usual levity. "That one still alive?" he asked, nodding toward a smaller wolgarm Rem had struck down earlier which now stirred feebly.

Rem noticed the creature twitching, trying to drag itself away despite a broken body. She moved without mercy. Her chain whirled and crack! The spiked head crushed the demon dog's skull. It went limp. She normally might have felt some pity for animals, but not for these cursed beasts who threatened lives.

"That makes eight," Rem said quietly. "And this is nine." She approached the alpha under Cain's foot. The monstrous dog snapped weakly in her direction. Rem raised her flail again to finish it off.

However, Cain applied a bit more pressure, eliciting a choking whine from the alpha and halting its movement. "Hold a sec," he said.

Rem paused, confused. The moonlight filtering through the canopy illuminated them both in a surreal glow – Cain looking down at the beast almost thoughtfully, Rem poised to strike.

Cain met the alpha's malevolent red eyes. "This one's the leader. Smart enough to command the rest." He considered the creature, which only snarled in hate. "You and your pack hurt a friend of mine," he said softly, an edge under the calm. "Unforgivable." The beast snapped its jaws in defiance, froth dripping.

Cain's lips curved into a humorless smile. "You know, back where I'm from, we have a phrase: 'Every dog has its day.'" He knelt slightly, removing his boot from its neck only to seize the wolgarm by the scruff of its neck with one hand. The beast thrashed but Cain's grip was unbreakable. "Tonight just isn't yours."

In one swift motion, Cain hurled the alpha straight up – as if launching a rocket. Rem gasped, watching the massive creature zoom skyward, higher and higher until it was barely a dot across the face of the moon. There was a faint yelp… then silence. Gravity took hold and the dot grew bigger again, plummeting.

Cain casually stepped aside. A second later, with a heavy THUD, the alpha slammed into the ground where Cain had stood. The earth tremored. This time it did not rise.

Rem stared at the crumpled body of the alpha Mabeast, then at Cain. Her mind struggled to put words together. Cain dusted off his hands with a satisfied look. "And that's ten. Good boy."

The blue glow around Rem had faded as her battle trance subsided. She suddenly felt the sting of the claw wounds on her shoulder and the exhaustion of exertion. Swaying slightly, Rem exhaled. It was over. The village and mansion were safe, and the curse would dissipate with the beasts gone.

She looked at Cain with immense gratitude and something deeper – awe, perhaps. "Mr. Cain… I– I don't know how to thank you. You saved me. You saved everyone."

Cain stepped closer, concern replacing cockiness as he noticed her injury and fatigue. "You're hurt," he murmured, gently lifting a section of her torn sleeve to inspect the gashes. The wounds were already clotting thanks to her healing factor as an Oni, but they were nasty. Anger flashed in Cain's eyes. "I should have been quicker to catch that one," he said, a hint of self-reproach that surprised Rem. He almost sounded worried for her.

Rem flushed at his proximity. She wasn't used to such direct attention, especially not from a man so dazzling and kind (despite his arrogance). "I-it's nothing. Just a small wound," she said quickly. "I'll heal."

Cain reached up and, to Rem's shock, tenderly brushed a strand of her light blue hair away from her face, which had gotten sweaty and a bit dirty during the fight. His fingers were surprisingly warm and gentle. "You fought bravely," he said softly. "But next time, you don't have to fight alone, okay?"

Rem felt her heart skip. Up close, Cain's dark eyes held a sincerity and concern that made her chest tighten in a strange, pleasant way. The moonlight on his sharp features gave him an almost ethereal handsomeness, like a warrior from hero tales. Too good to be true… a thought flitted through her head.

She realized he was waiting for her response and nodded meekly. "Yes. Thank you… Cain." Dropping honorifics, her voice barely above a whisper.

His grin returned, bright and reassuring. "Good." He glanced around at the carnage. "Now, we should probably head back before anyone else wakes up and thinks we threw a wild animal house party out here."

Rem giggled softly at the joke. Truly, the area looked like an aftermath of one – broken branches, fur, and the lingering stench of witch-beast blood.

Rem withdrew a small handkerchief and, without thinking, stepped closer to Cain to wipe a smear of blood off his cheek. He raised an eyebrow but let her. As she dabbed gently, she realized what she was doing and froze, blushing furiously. "Ah–! S-sorry, you had…"

Cain smirked. "No worries. I appreciate the care." He leaned in a little, teasingly. "Did I get it all, nurse Rem?"

Rem's face burned like fire as she quickly retracted the cloth. "Yes! All clean!" she squeaked, causing Cain to chuckle.

With the immediate crisis resolved, the two made their way back towards the mansion. Rem insisted they stop by the village first, just to check on the cursed child. They found the boy sleeping peacefully, curse mark faded to nothing more than a light scratch. Satisfied and heartened, Rem clasped her hands thankfully and murmured a prayer to the spirits. Cain watched her with an appreciative smile – her devotion to others was truly endearing.

As they approached the mansion gates, the first rosy hints of dawn were coloring the eastern sky. Rem sighed, a bit self-conscious now that the adrenaline had worn off. Her uniform was torn and bloodstained, she no doubt looked disheveled, and here she was alone with a man – an incredibly attractive man – in the early morning hours. If Ram saw this, she might get the wrong idea.

Almost as if fate conspired, the front doors of the mansion flew open and Ram strode out, lantern in hand. Her expression was stormy worry. "Rem! There you are!" she scolded, marching right up. "I found your note, but you—" She halted as she noticed Cain walking beside Rem, and then the state of her sister's attire and injury. Ram's eyes flashed with anger and concern. "What happened?!"

Rem smiled wearily at her twin. "I'm sorry to have worried you, sister. There were Mabeasts – Wolgarms from the forest. The village boy was cursed, so I—"

"Mabeasts? Alone? Rem, you—!" Ram's face reflected the horror of imagining her little sister facing that. She abruptly pulled Rem into a tight embrace. "Baka Rem," she murmured shakily, relief and admonishment in equal measure. "You should have woken me. You could have been killed."

Rem hugged her back, guilt and love in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ram. I just acted without thinking."

Ram held her at arm's length to inspect the wounds. Upon seeing them, her jaw set. She turned a fiery gaze onto Cain. "And what were you doing while my sister was in danger, hmm? Sleeping soundly?"

Cain raised his hands in surrender, though a smirk tugged at his lips. "Actually, I was rather busy saving her life and smashing a dozen demon mutts. So, no, not much sleep I'm afraid."

Rem quickly interposed. "It's true, sister! Cain followed and protected me. I… I might not be here if not for him." She looked down, upset at her own weakness, but Ram's expression softened slightly hearing that.

Ram gave Cain an appraising look. Part of her wanted to snap at him out of habit, but she saw the evidence: Cain bore scratches on his clothes, a bit of dried blood (Rem hadn't cleaned all of it off). And Rem's tone was full of gratitude and admiration. Ram sighed, pushing a strand of pink hair from her face. "…Very well. Thank you, Cain, for assisting my reckless sister." The words were stiff, but sincere.

Cain gave a short bow. "Anytime. I'm rather fond of her myself."

Both sisters blinked at that bold statement. Rem felt warmth bloom in her chest. Ram just cleared her throat and turned back to Rem. "Let's get you cleaned and bandaged. We should also inform Lady Emilia that the danger is gone; she will worry if she hears secondhand."

Rem nodded. "Right." Then she gave Cain a polite bow. "Thank you again. Truly. We will speak later?"

Cain nodded, meeting her eyes warmly. "Count on it."

As the sisters headed inside, Ram half-supported Rem (though Rem insisted she was fine). At the threshold, Ram cast one more glance back at Cain. Her red eyes held a complicated mix of grudging respect and lingering distrust. But she gave him a very small nod – a silent acknowledgment of debt for protecting Rem – before closing the door.

Cain remained standing in the courtyard as morning broke properly, stretching his arms overhead. He rotated his neck, hearing a few pops. "Ah, that hit the spot," he mused to himself, recalling the thrill of the fight. Though, calling it a "fight" was generous to the beasts. It was more of an extermination. Still, it felt good to flex his muscles a bit.

And the look in Rem's eyes when she thanked him… Cain smiled. It was the same adoration and gratitude he recalled she once gave Subaru in the original story after he saved her from her demon-form despair. Now that soft tenderness was directed at him. Progress.

He walked around to the back of the mansion rather than going in immediately – he didn't want to cause a stir meeting anyone else covered in blood. Near the well, he washed his hands and arms, cleaning off any remnants of the battle.

As he splashed water on his face, Cain considered the road ahead. With the Wolgarms dealt with, the "mansion curse arc" was effectively resolved without casualties. Subaru's presence had been replaced by his. Subaru… Cain wondered idly where he was now. Perhaps still in the capital, maybe roped into something else or simply absent from this timeline's events so far. It didn't matter too much at the moment.

Next major events… likely the Royal Selection meeting in the Capital. Roswaal would return to escort Emilia there soon, now that the insignia was secure and candidates known. That meant… Priscilla, Crusch, Anastasia, and Felt (and Emilia of course) in one place. Cain grinned thinking of Priscilla, listed as one of his eventual conquests. That haughty princess and his own prideful nature were bound to create sparks. Fun sparks.

Also the looming threat of the Witch Cult. Betelgeuse and his fingers might strike around that time too (in original, after the royal selection, Subaru & co returned to find the village attacked by Witch Cult). But perhaps his changes would shuffle that.

And then, eventually, Sanctuary and Witches… Echidna and Satella. Cain's grin widened almost feral at the thought of meeting the infamous Witch of Greed who toyed with Subaru, and the Witch of Envy who loved him. How would they react to him?

One step at a time. For now, he'd cement his bonds here. Rem was clearly smitten after tonight (though she might not fully realize it yet). Ram tolerated him a bit more. Emilia already trusted him. Beatrice was warming. Good.

Cain took a deep breath of morning air. The sun peeked over the horizon, painting the sky orange and pink. A new day in this unpredictable path he was blazing. He felt… alive. More alive than he had in ages.

As he circled back towards the entrance, the door opened and Emilia emerged onto the steps, worry plastered on her face. Her eyes found Cain and immediately relief flooded them.

"Cain! Thank goodness." She hurried down to him. "Ram told me what happened. Are you alright? Where's Rem? Is she—?"

Cain gently raised a hand to halt her rapid questions. "I'm fine. Rem's fine too – just a few scratches. She's resting and Ram's with her. The threat is gone."

Emilia sighed, shoulders relaxing. "I can't believe Mabeasts… and Rem went alone… I feel so terrible I slept through it."

Cain shook his head. "Don't blame yourself. Rem did what she thought was right to protect everyone. She's very brave."

Emilia nodded. "She is. I'm so glad you went after her. Thank you, Cain." On impulse, she stepped forward and gave him a quick, gentle hug.

Cain blinked, pleasantly surprised as Emilia's slender arms wrapped around him. He felt the softness of her hair against his chin and the light fragrance of lavender she carried. It lasted only a moment before she realized what she'd done and stepped back, blushing fiercely.

"S-Sorry! I was just— I mean—" Emilia stammered, mortified at having grabbed him like that.

Cain laughed quietly, holding up his hands. "No apology needed. I rather enjoyed it."

That made her blush deepen, but she smiled. "I'm truly grateful. I don't know what we'd do without you already."

He looked into her violet eyes, which were dewy with sincerity. In that instant, Cain felt a subtle shift in the air – a closeness forming. Emilia, the kind-hearted half-elf who bore so many burdens, was looking at him like he was someone she could rely on, someone who could ease those burdens.

Cain gave a slow, charming smile. "Well, I'm here now. So you won't have to find out."

Emilia seemed at a rare loss for words. She simply nodded, smiling down at her hands shyly.

A creak behind them announced Roswaal's arrival – except it wasn't Roswaal. It was Beatrice, peering from the doorway with a frown. "You two are up to something so early, I suppose," she mumbled, likely having heard some commotion.

Emilia brightened, waving Beatrice over. "Good morning, Beatrice! There were some Mabeasts in the night, but Cain and Rem took care of it."

Beatrice floated out the door (she often hovered just a tiny bit off the ground rather than walking, Cain noticed). She looked at Cain, then at Emilia's flustered face. "Hmm." The little spirit's eyes narrowed. "Beatrice hopes you're not getting too cozy with this man so quickly, in fact."

"Beako!" Emilia flushed in embarrassment. "It's not like that, we were just—" She realized she was being teased and pouted, cheeks puffing slightly. "You're impossible."

Cain chuckled. Having Beatrice tease meant she was more comfortable around him too, perhaps. He knelt a bit to meet Beatrice's eye level. "Jealous, Beatrice? You want a hug too?"

Beatrice huffed, crossing her arms. "Keep dreaming, I suppose!" Yet there was a tiny quirk at the corner of her mouth.

Emilia covered a giggle. "Alright, alright. Let's all go inside. We should prepare to leave for the capital today, if everything is settled here."

Cain arched a brow. "So soon?"

Emilia nodded. "Yes, the Royal Selection ceremony is tomorrow. We must be there by this afternoon for the reception." She paused, then looked at Cain hopefully. "Would you… come with us? I know it's a lot to ask, and you're not a knight or anything, but having you there—"

Cain raised a hand to stop her babbling. "Emilia, I'd be honored to accompany you." He then smirked roguishly, "I wouldn't miss the chance to meet the competition. Especially a certain redhead princess with an attitude problem. Sounds entertaining."

Emilia blinked, then giggled, guessing he meant Priscilla. "She… certainly is unique. Just, please try not to start any duels or wars, alright?"

"I promise nothing," Cain said with a mock solemnity that made Beatrice roll her eyes.

And so, as the household awakened and news of the night's events spread (Ram efficiently recounted to a shocked Frederica and Petra – who had been sleeping in the maids' quarters – that the danger had been dealt with), preparations to depart were underway.

Rem emerged later, fully healed thanks to some of her own magic and Ram's care, wearing a fresh maid uniform. She insisted on helping pack for the journey. When she crossed paths with Cain in the hall, a delicate blush tinted her cheeks and she gave a demure bow. "Good morning, Cain."

"Morning, Rem. You look chipper for someone who slew monsters all night," he teased lightly.

Rem clasped her hands, blue eyes shining. "Thanks to you, I feel wonderful." Lowering her voice, she added, "And… I'm happy you'll be coming with us to the capital."

Cain noted the way her gaze lingered on him with unmistakable admiration and affection. He gently took her hand, raising it as if to kiss it – an overly gallant gesture that nevertheless sent her heart aflutter – and said, "I'm happy too. I'll be counting on your lovely smile to cheer me on if I have to deal with noble snobs."

Rem giggled softly. "Of course."

Nearby, Ram observed this exchange from behind a column, shaking her head with exasperation (and the slightest smirk). Her dear sister was clearly smitten. And that man… he was incorrigible. Yet, seeing Rem so happy and alive, Ram couldn't bring herself to be angry. Perhaps this outsider wasn't so bad after all.

By late morning, two grand carriages were prepared. One for Roswaal's party – though Roswaal himself had returned just briefly and said he'd meet them in the capital separately (he had his own peculiar plans, as always, which he didn't fully share). So the first carriage would carry Emilia, Cain, and likely Rem. Ram would ride in the second carriage with luggage and possibly Beatrice (though Beatrice typically might retreat to her library rather than travel; however, perhaps she'd join just to keep an eye on things).

Emilia emerged in a stunning outfit – a lilac gown suitable for the royal gathering, with white lace accents. It was elegant yet simple, reflecting her modest nature. Cain offered an appreciative smile and a thumbs-up, causing Emilia to flush with pleasure and mumble something about hoping it wasn't too much.

Soon, they all climbed in. Cain made a grand show of offering his hand to help Emilia into the carriage, then did the same for Rem, making the blue-haired maid giggle. Beatrice ended up deciding to join them inside rather than endure a bumpy second carriage – citing that "Betty wants to ensure this loudmouth doesn't cause trouble, I suppose," which everyone translated to she wanted to be with them.

Thus inside the main carriage sat Emilia, Cain, Rem, and Beatrice (perched on the seat edge, feet dangling). Ram took charge of the second carriage behind.

With a lurch, the dragon-drawn carriage set off down the road leaving the Roswaal estate, bound for the royal capital once more.

As trees and fields rolled by, Cain felt a surge of anticipation. Chapter one of his odyssey in this world was complete – he had made an explosive entrance, gathered allies (and admirers), and altered destinies. Now, onto chapter two: the capital, with its politics, pomp, and new players to amuse him.

He leaned back comfortably, propping one foot on his opposite knee. Emilia was discussing something about proper etiquette at the palace with Rem. Beatrice was flipping through the "Chronicles of Lugunica" tome Cain had borrowed (she insisted on holding it so he wouldn't "damage it with his clumsiness").

Cain gazed out the window at the passing clouds, a confident half-smile playing on his lips. Epic fantasy, humor, romance, powerful combat, psychological tension, romantic moments, witty exchanges – the road ahead promised all that and more. He had the power to face any challenge, the wit to defuse or incite as needed, and a growing circle of remarkable women drawn to him like moths to a flame.

Yes, this unpredictable path he walked was turning out even better than expected.

He closed his eyes, picturing the faces yet to encounter: a golden-eyed princess with a fan of peacock feathers (Priscilla), a silver-haired schemer sipping tea (Echidna), a dark, beautiful shadow whispering "I love you" (Satella), a seductive killer licking her blade (Elsa), a white-clad witch smiling serenely as the world bent to her whim (Pandora), and an inhumanly beautiful spirit with bloodlust and childish arrogance (Zarestia).

Cain's smile widened. Each would be a challenge, a delight in their own way. And he intended to win them all over, without exception.

The future looked bright – or rather, thrillingly uncertain. Exactly how he loved it.

"Just you wait, world," Cain murmured under his breath, so softly only he could hear, "The fun's only just begun."

And with a carefree chuckle, the impossibly strong, impossibly charismatic anomaly closed his eyes and hummed a jaunty tune as the carriage bore them onward, into the heart of Lugunica and the next chapter of his grand story.

⸻