Upon hearing Priscilla's words, Tsukasa immediately retorted with annoyance, "I am not your servant, you arrogant freak."
Priscilla snapped her folding fan open with a "whoosh," covering the lower half of her face and revealing only a pair of playful eyes.
Her voice came through the fan, enunciated word by word, "Since you wanted to use me as a shield to sneak in, then for the moment, your status is that of my servant. That is not something you can refute."
A few black lines seemed to appear on Tsukasa's forehead, but he didn't argue further. Because he sensed a gaze from across the room—Roswaal was looking at him right now, wearing that habitual, meaningful smile of his.
This guy... has he already recognized me?
'Well, whatever.' He thought.
Just then, Al, who was beside him, interrupted his train of thought.
Al lowered his voice, nudging him with his remaining right hand. "Follow me later. Since it's your first time at an event like this, you surely aren't familiar with the procedures."
After saying this, Al stepped toward the line of Royal Guard standing straight on the left. Seeing this, Tsukasa followed closely behind.
The arrangement in the hall was clear at a glance: the Royal Guards in white uniforms and the military officials stood on the left, while the Civil Officials and nobles in fine attire were lined up on the right.
This distinct division made Tsukasa feel as if he had walked into the imperial court of some ancient dynasty.
At the front of the left queue, he saw that familiar figure—Subaru.
She stood straight, her black hair draped behind her, her profile taut, and her fingers curled slightly in an unconscious gesture, she was clearly very nervous.
Watching this appearance of her, the corners of Tsukasa's lips hidden under his helmet couldn't help but curl up.
But he didn't intend to call out to her, since he was, in name at least, part of Priscilla's camp.
However, if something were to happen later, this blame would most likely have to be shouldered by Priscilla's camp.
Just then, the heavy doors of the hall were slowly pushed open again.
Led by a knight in full armor, several elders in solemn formal attire walked in one after another.
Walking at the very front was an old man whose white beard almost reached the ground. His back was straight, but he was not tall, being more than half a head shorter than Tsukasa.
Yet deep wrinkles covered his face, and among the elders, he appeared to be the eldest.
"Brother, look at that old man. He is the chief representative of the Council of Wise Men—Miklotov. In the current Lugunica without a king, he is the one with the most authority."
At this moment, Roswaal's gaze had already shifted back to the front of the hall.
The seats surrounding the throne, which had just been empty, were now filled one by one by the elders of the Council of Wise Men. The only one left vacant was the throne at the deepest part of the hall, the one only a king was qualified to sit upon.
And standing neatly before the elders of the Council of Wise Men were the four individuals born to be extraordinary and in the spotlight—the Dragon Priestess, the Royal Selection Candidates.
At the head was Priscilla Barielle, with her vibrant orange hair and arrogant posture.
Standing to her right was a woman wearing a dark military uniform. Her hair color was extremely deep, approaching ink-black, but upon close inspection in the light, one could discern that it was a deep, lustrous green. Her hair was tied behind her with a white butterfly ribbon. Her face was beautiful yet carried an inviolable majesty, her gaze staring straight ahead.
She wore a long sword at her waist, the scabbard engraved with the family crest of a baring-fanged lion.
This was a woman in men's clothing who perfectly fused the softness of a woman with the heroic spirit of a soldier.
The one standing to Priscilla's left was completely different from the serious woman on the right. She had long, light purple wavy hair, soft and fluffy, reminiscent of cotton candy.
She was the most petite of the four, wearing a pure white dress decorated with a large amount of fur. Most eye-catching were the snow-white fox fur scarf draped over her shoulders and the exaggeratedly large double-bead clasp wallet hanging from her waist as if it were a prank.
Her whole body radiated a lively, cheerful, and carefree aura.
And the last one was that silver-haired, purple-eyed half-elf girl who was slightly bowing her head, appearing somewhat uneasy—Emilia.
Tsukasa was observing the four Royal Selection Candidates with their distinct styles in front of him with great interest, when a gaze with an extremely strong presence suddenly fell upon him.
He immediately noticed it and looked up. The gaze came from the very front of the knight line, the red-haired man standing in front of Subaru—Reinhard van Astrea.
Even after more than a month, his flame-like red hair and blue eyes that looked like a piece of clear sky were still unforgettable.
Compared to when they last met, the only change was that he had changed into the formal uniform of the Royal Guard.
At this moment, the Sword Saint was tilting his head slightly, his gaze piercing through the crowd and locking directly onto Tsukasa, who was wearing a knight's uniform and helmet. In Reinhard's eyes, a rare trace of clear confusion emerged.
'This person's aura is familiar. No, it is quite familiar.'
'That is a kind of aura I could never forget. However, this aura should belong to Subaru.'
'Why would it appear on this person? Who exactly is he?'
Unlike Reinhard's confusion, faced with this penetrating scrutiny, Tsukasa not only did not dodge, but instead, under the shadow of his helmet, accurately met the other party's's gaze.
In that gaze, there was not the slightest tension of a disguise being seen through, but only a pure, direct, and even slightly provocative and expectant fighting spirit.
Two gazes met briefly in the air.
"Hey, brother."
Al, who was standing in front, was affected by the aftermath of this silent clash and felt a chill down his back.
He tilted his head slightly and asked in a low voice, "Do you know Reinhard?"
Tsukasa's gaze remained on Reinhard as he replied casually, "Probably... I knew him before. But now, he probably doesn't know me, but I certainly know him."
These words, which sounded a bit convoluted and ambiguous, made Al helplessly shrug his only remaining shoulder and ask no further questions.
At the front of the hall, Reinhard seemed to have temporarily suppressed the questions in his heart. He took one last deep look at Tsukasa, then turned his head back, casting his gaze once again toward the elders of the Council of Wise Men, returning to that impeccable, solemn posture.