章節 223: [FGO]: 223
No matter the world, when people are swept up in a rhythm set by someone else, most become entirely consumed by it, following along mindlessly.
This seems to be a psychological phenomenon. In such moments, individuals cease to exist as themselves and instead merge into a collective. This is why group incidents often arise when large crowds gather.
Even if someone doesn't genuinely agree, they often find themselves unconsciously going along with the crowd's momentum.
This is exactly the situation Emilia and her companions now face.
A malicious individual had stirred up the crowd, exploiting the prejudice that "everything is the silver-haired half-demon's fault," and soon, the rhythm gained momentum.
At first, there were scattered murmurs of agreement, but these quickly fused into a deafening wave of accusations.
The crowd's ire pointed directly at Emilia, seated in the dragon carriage.
Even Rem, usually calm and composed, was at a loss. Panic was evident on her face, her eyes moist with unshed tears.
At that moment, a squad leader strode forward, arrogance radiating from his every step. With a smug expression, he pointed at them.
"You must all come with me to the city guard station for an investigation. Immediately."
"Please, wait a moment," Emilia said, standing.
Though she knew the other party was deliberately targeting them, seeing Rem on the verge of tears left her no choice but to step forward.
Besides, they couldn't afford to be taken to the city guard station right now.
Any delay would make them late for the royal selection. It was obvious the other party intended to exploit this, possibly even stripping her of her eligibility to participate. Worse, the incident could be used to further tarnish her reputation.
Even after enduring Ryou's harsh truths and the dark realities of the world, Emilia clung to a sliver of hope.
If I can ascend to the throne peacefully, then there won't be a need for so much sacrifice, she thought.
From the perspective of a nation's leader, such an idea could only be described as naïve.
"Sir, we truly have an urgent matter and cannot accompany you to the city guard station. Could we heal this gentleman with magic and compensate him?"
Emilia suggested politely.
"No way! You must come with me today! During the royal selection, any disturbances or major incidents—whether caused by a commoner or noble—are punished severely!" the squad leader declared with pride. He smirked as he added, "This is the collective decision of the Council of the Wise Men."
If this had been an ordinary extortion attempt, they might have settled for a hefty bribe of holy coins. But it was clear the group's true goal was to delay Emilia, ensuring she missed the royal selection ceremony. This would provide grounds for a smear campaign, severely damaging her reputation and possibly disqualifying her.
The plan was insidious, expertly timed, and flawlessly executed.
If Emilia compromised, lateness would be unavoidable. If she forced her way through, the mastermind behind the scenes would amplify the incident, using the crowd as witnesses.
Harming someone and fleeing would create a narrative of Emilia as arrogant and unreasonable, further tarnishing her already fragile image as a silver-haired half-demon.
No matter what Emilia chose, she was trapped.
Under normal circumstances, her reputation might have withstood another hit. But during the royal selection period, any negative news about the candidates would be magnified, heavily influencing the outcome.
Even when Emilia revealed her identity and presented the gem symbolizing her status as a Dragon Priestess, the squad leader remained relentless, clearly intent on dragging things out.
Meanwhile, a now-calm Rem felt her Oni temper flaring again. If Emilia hadn't held her back, she might have pulled her mace from under her skirt and smashed it into the man's head.
Puck, too, was tempted to freeze the man into an ice sculpture, but Emilia restrained him as well.
Ultimately, Emilia couldn't bring herself to harm others just to save time.
As Emilia exhausted her words to no avail, Anastasia, who had been silent like a statue, suddenly opened her eyes.
Ryou had used telepathic communication to reach her at this critical moment.
After hearing Ryou's instructions, Anastasia stepped out of her dragon carriage and approached Emilia, pulling her aside.
"Do you trust him?"
Anastasia asked cryptically.
Emilia immediately understood and nodded without hesitation.
"All right, here's what you need to do…"
Anastasia raised her hand, inscribing runes that created a barrier isolating them from the outside world.
Given Anastasia's mastery of magic and the unique abyssal power within her, no one could penetrate her soundproof barrier.
When Anastasia relayed Ryou's plan, Emilia's face filled with disbelief.
"This… how can we do something like that?"
Anastasia pointed at the agitated crowd beyond the barrier.
Some were gloating, others ridiculing, cursing, or mocking with scornful smiles.
"Facing this, do you think everything you're doing is meaningful? Do you believe you can truly ascend to the throne? Wake up and face reality."
Looking into the malicious eyes of the crowd, a glimmer of despair flashed through Emilia's gaze.
Suddenly, she smiled.
"You're right. Since I've already resolved to do this, I should look forward."
Though Emilia smiled, it was a heartbreaking one, like the last wilting rose of winter.
Anastasia recognized it as a look of profound despair. Emilia had lost all faith in the corrupt nobles and the Council of the Wise Men, and her heart was shattered by the ignorance of the masses she wished to help.
Anastasia dispelled the barrier.
"We'll go with you," Emilia said emotionlessly to the squad leader.
"That's enough, right?"
The squad leader, slightly puzzled, wondered what the two girls had discussed, but he quickly dismissed the thought. What mattered was completing his superior's orders.
As he arrogantly led Emilia and her companions away, the crowd erupted into cheers, celebrating as if a hero had vanquished a great evil.
Not far away, the towering spires of the royal castle rose like clouds.
The tallest among them was a solitary tower that loomed over every other structure within the castle grounds, offering an unobstructed view of the surrounding area—including the commotion that had just unfolded near the royal castle.
Inside the tower, an elderly man with white hair stood by the window's edge, his robes flowing around him. A satisfied smile played on his lips as he watched Emilia and her companions being led away.
At that moment, a man in a luxurious suit, sporting a meticulously groomed mustache, entered the room and bowed respectfully.
Anyone familiar with this nobleman would be shocked to see him here—it was none other than Miklotov McMahon, whose rank was second only to Duchess Crusch Karsten in the kingdom. The deference he displayed could only be reserved for one individual in the Kingdom of Lugunica...
"Lord Miklotov, the task is complete. That silver-haired half-elf won't make it to the Royal Selection ceremony on time," the nobleman reported.
Miklotov McMahon was the de facto ruler of Lugunica and Speaker of the Council of Wise Men.
"Well done! Lugunica is a land blessed by the Dragon's protection. A silver-haired half-elf must not be allowed to tarnish or defile it!" the elderly man declared firmly.
Although the city guard captain had detained Emilia, he was a minor figure—one who wouldn't dare harm someone recognized by the Dragon as a Royal Candidate. In Lugunica, the Dragon's commands were absolute.
Thus, while the Council of Wise Men vehemently opposed certain candidates, they had no choice but to grudgingly accept the participation of a scandalous widow, a foreign merchant, and even a silver-haired half-elf in the Royal Selection.
But where there's policy, there's always counterstrategy.
The so-called great dragon, who slumbered endlessly, couldn't possibly outmaneuver the politically astute and scheming Speaker of the Council of Wise Men, a man who had spent decades mastering the art of power.
While the Dragon had chosen five Royal Candidates, theoretically granting each an equal chance to ascend the throne, the process was rife with manipulation. On the surface, the competition seemed fair—centered on governing one's territory. Yet a closer analysis revealed stark inequities.
For instance, the Karsten family, the most powerful noble house aside from the royal family, had a massive head start. Among the candidates, only Priscilla Barielle, also from a noble lineage, could rival them.
Meanwhile, Emilia, Felt, and Anastasia Hoshin were outclassed. Anastasia, though wealthy, was a foreigner with no firm foothold in the kingdom. Felt, despite being backed by the Sword Saint's lineage, represented a family whose fame outweighed its actual strength. Though Reinhard van Astrea, the Sword Saint himself, was peerless in personal prowess, this alone could not secure victory.
As for Emilia? The resources of a border count paled in comparison to those of a duke—especially since her territory consisted of just a handful of villages. Without external intervention, Emilia's camp was destined to fail.
Had it not been for the interference of a certain meddler, the so-called Royal Selection would have been nothing more than a farce orchestrated by the Council of Wise Men.
...
Time ticked away.
When the clock struck nine, signaling the official start of the Royal Selection ceremony, the city guard captain allowed himself a sigh of relief. He had successfully delayed the silver-haired half-elf long enough to ensure her late arrival.
Even if she could fly, the ceremony had already begun. Unless she could turn back time, she was guaranteed to miss it.
At this point, detaining them any longer would be too conspicuous and invite scrutiny. Releasing them now, just as the ceremony began, ensured they'd be late—a perfectly calculated strategy.
Smiling with satisfaction, the captain released them.
This sequence of events made it clear that the mastermind behind the plot was a cunning and politically astute figure. Yet one detail puzzled him: aside from the blue-haired girl's visible frustration, neither the silver-haired half-elf nor the regal-looking silver-haired girl accompanying her showed any reaction. It was as if they didn't care.
"Pretending to be calm! Let's see you cry when the Council of Wise Men disqualifies you from the Royal Selection in front of everyone!" the city guard captain smirked internally.
Outwardly, he maintained a courteous demeanor.
"Forgive us, Lady Emilia. We were just following the Council of Wise Men's orders."
Hearing his insincere apology, Rem prepared to retort, but Emilia raised her hand to stop her.
"That's your duty. May we leave now?" she replied calmly.
"Of course, of course!" the captain responded with a broad smile, though inwardly he cursed her. Act high and mighty now. Once you're disqualified and lose your backing, you might end up in a brothel—and I'll be the first to visit.
Had it not been for the sensitive timing of the Royal Selection and Emilia's delicate status, he would have imprisoned them outright.
...
Meanwhile, in the royal castle's grand assembly hall.
The eight sages of the Council of Wise Men were seated in judgment. Below them, the aristocracy's civil representatives and the military faction, clad in their pristine white knight uniforms, were divided.
At the center of the hall stood four unique young women.
Crusch Karsten, head of the Karsten duchy and the frontrunner for the throne, stood with a commanding presence. Dressed in sharp, military-style men's attire, the green-haired tomboy exuded a rigid discipline rarely seen in women.
Beside her stood a purple-haired girl, Anastasia Hoshin, with a gentle smile. Despite her outwardly harmless demeanor, her cunning had earned her dominance in the business world, where even seasoned merchants trembled at her name.
On Anastasia's left was a noblewoman in a luxurious red dress, proudly flaunting her alluring figure.
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