Chapter 11: The Golden

There was power in a name. A name betrayed bloodline and history to anyone who was studious enough. Someone who knew the history of these lands could hear the name of a noble and decide when their ancestors received their titles and how. In Lelouch's case, this meant nothing to him.

He was learning, though at this point there was no advantage to be won from knowing the history. The present was much more important, the trading routes, the resources - magical resources he never heard about.

The one thing he was interested in knowing the history of was barely present. The Sage, Flügel - though his name hasn't meant much in many years, he did manage to get some information from Reinhard. Besides the Tree, Flügel's name cropped up only one time in recent memory.

The Dragon Prophecy. A slab of stone on which it was inscribed on how to find four of the five candidates. Afterwards, the slab was filled with white text that nobody could read, except for Flügel's name.

Lelouch had the suspicion that Reinhard had the same idea as Crusch, but politely kept it to himself. The name of the Sage wasn't that well known among the common folk, most stories speak about someone called Shaula. Lelouch sighed.

It'd be a big headache.

###

"You know that you don't have to leave, right?" Reinhard asked. The red-haired young man was standing ever so vigilant at the side of his princess, who looked like she swallowed something sour.

"I know," Lelouch said, smiling. "And I think I know you well enough that you're not hoping my presence would give Felt an advantage."

At least now he did. After long talks and spending time with both of them. Reinhard wasn't the kind of person who'd be quite so underhanded. He went with the more direct approach - in Felt's case, money.

"You never know," Reinhard teased. The knight's expression slid into a frown. "You're going north first, right?"

"I'll find a place to stay when I'm back," Lelouch said. "Maybe Lady Crusch would be kind enough to arrange one. For now, I'll have to accept Lord Mathers' invitation. I'd rather not burn any bridges I haven't built yet."

"You just want to see that stupid tree, don't you?" Felt asked. Lelouch blinked. "Reinhard told me, the route north leads to the tree, then to that child-molesting fruit--"

Reinhard put a hand over her mouth. She glared at him, but didn't continue. When he was sure she wouldn't, Reinhard let go.

Lelouch had apparently missed a meeting between Felt and the Margrave in the castle in the times he wasn't with them. Considering Felt's inability to filter whatever she's thinking before she loudly shouts it, he wondered if Margrave Mathers had a rather… peculiar appearance or personality.

Despite Felt's appearance, she was surprisingly shrewd.

Though if she had a similar Blessing as Crusch, that was to be expected.

"I admit, the tree interests me," Lelouch answered. "But I won't spend too much time there. After concluding business with the Margrave, I'll likely travel back and see if I can't solve my differences with Lady Barielle."

She had leverage over him, and it was only useful as long as he let it be.

He didn't know how people would react to 'some visitor from another world'. Or 'the possible reincarnation of the Sage'. Priscilla Barielle wanted something from him, maybe just see his reaction, but he'd have to find out what it was before he could put his mind at ease. It was unlikely that anyone could accept a claim as outrageous as 'the son of an emperor' so easily…

But Crusch had been blunt in her assessment of the general population. Trusting. Superstitious.

"Here," Felt said, stepping forward and pushing something into his hands. The short girl glared up at him before walking into the mansion and Lelouch looked down at the sword she pulled from somewhere. Reinhard laughed.

"She asked me to have one done for you, so you could protect yourself."

Lelouch smiled thinly. "As kind as that is, I admit I'm no good with a sword."

"It's often more a symbolic thing," Reinhard explained. "If you're armed, most people would think twice. With your white outfit, they might even think thrice."

"Confusing me for a royal guard?"

"Maybe. Or maybe people will have heard of the Golden," Reinhard said. Lelouch frowned.

"Hm?" He made a noise, narrowing his eyes at Reinhard. "What was that?"

"Oh sorry, did I forget to mention that?" Reinhard asked, clapping his hands together. His smile was so wide, Lelouch could've sworn his face would split apart. "Usually people receive titles when they do something incredible. Even though none of them was in real danger, you saved a lot of nobles."

"I… see," Lelouch said. Name recognition could be both good and bad. Right now he could probably assume the former was more likely. "The Golden?"

"The nobles here are kinda happy about giving titles based on colors," Reinhard explained. "If the title isn't inherited, it can be quite simple. Priscilla Barielle is the Bloodstained Bride. Eight husbands, eight-times a widow."

Lelouch twitched.

"And they chose… the Golden?"

It was kind of ironic, really. Maybe a bit better publicity than Demon Emperor, but still not quite what he'd call desireable.

"Just like Felix is the Blue with his water magic, you're the Golden with Yang magic."

"There's hundreds of others Yang mages, though."

"None who saved a dozen nobles."

Lelouch sighed. The Golden it is.

###

By the time they reached the tree and the man who steered the carriage stopped, the sun was setting.

A tree that penetrated the clouds on a cloudy day. Lelouch had seen machines in the form of humans destroy cities, and yet the appearance of this tree was breathtaking, simply by the sheer impossibility.

How was it holding itself up? How much water did it need to sustain itself? Magic, he imagined. Flügel's magic.

"Quite the sight, innit?" the old coachman said. Lelouch nodded. White flowers were around the tree, in an almost perfect circle from where they fell, as if the wind had not touched them. "I remember years ago when the Sword Saint came here every day. Had I refused, she'd have walked the way."

"She? Ah," Lelouch said, nodding. "Reinhard's grandmother?"

"Aye, lil' rascal she was. Always loved to look at the flowers, would've loved to see these white beauties here I'm sure."

Lelouch stepped forward, towards the tree and into the ring of white. The closer he got, the more intimidating its size became, the more impressive. For one moment, Lelouch felt disgusted and attracted.

The same feeling he had when he met Elsa for the first time. The sick pull that forced him to walk forward increased until it suddenly stopped. His body jerked forward, and he turned back, looking towards the coachman.

He wasn't there anymore.

Neither was the coach. Neither was the sky or the ground.

All Lelouch could see was the ocean of white flowers around him, and the tree in front of him. And sitting in front of the tree was a pearl white box.

"Is anyone there?" Lelouch asked, keeping his distance from the box. Nobody answered. The world was silent. Not even a wind blew around him. "... Satella, perhaps?"

Nothing.

Lelouch sighed, holding his arm out towards the box.

"Sasam," he intoned. A fist sized needle appeared, shooting forward towards the box.

The world broke and the needle hit nothing but the ground. Lelouch stumbled slightly, the sudden appearance of the sun and sound disorienting him slightly.

"You alright there?" the coachman asked. Lelouch nodded.

The box. It was there. He knew it, for some reason.

Walking forward, step by step, Lelouch created a dagger in his hands, the Yang mana singing in the air. Sitting down where the needle had penetrated the ground, Lelouch began to dig.

"Oi, cutting into the tree is kind of forbidden," the coachman said. Lelouch didn't stop. A few seconds of digging later, almost above the ground, it revealed itself.

A small white box. A chest, really, the light grey ornate markings barely standing out in the light.

There was nothing to be lost in going back right now, he might even be able to have a better discussion without Aldebaran revealing everything. Throwing caution in the wind, Lelouch opened the box.

And found himself staring at an emblem. A white crystal in a golden wing.

"This might make Lady Crusch quite angry," Lelouch muttered, taking the emblem out of the box. It glowed in a brilliant white light when he touched it. Just like the royal selection ones. Different in form and color, but…

A symbol nonetheless.

"Buried a treasure of yours here, eh?" the coachman asked. "Not a bad hiding place, if I say so myself."

"Yes," Lelouch said. "We can go now."

Lelouch threw the box back into the earth and kicked the dirt over it.

The emblem in his pocket stopped glowing as it stopped touching his skin.

###

Mathers' mansion was on the top of a hill. The only entrance was going into the village at the base of the hill first and then moving up. A strategic position, but dangerous - leaving no room to escape should the enemies breach through the defenses, unless one had the ability to fly.

The people looked happy.

That was the first thing Lelouch realized when they entered the village from the west. The children were playing outside, the adults were working, smiles on their faces.

A margrave with people this happy shouldn't be too bad of a man, he hoped, especially considering the very clear offer to repay the debt that they had incurred to Lelouch a while ago.

"Ah! Look!" one of the kids shouted. "Another carriage!"

Lelouch's eyebrows twitched.

Another?

Did one come from the mansion? If so, they didn't take the same road as them. Lelouch and the coachman had rested a night a bit after the tree before continuing the way, arriving early in the morning already. It was unlikely they passed them during the night.

"Halt," someone said. The coach stopped. Looking out of the window, he saw a girl with blue hair, dressed in a maid uniform. "Who are you?"

Lelouch opened the door, stepping out. The white robes sent some of the people that gathered around into confusion.

"You're not a royal knight," she said. Lelouch nodded, grabbing the invitation out of his robes and stepping forward. She didn't seem threatened.

"I was invited by Magrave Mathers," Lelouch said. "My name is Lelouch Lamperouge."

"Ah, yes, you," she said. Lelouch had the feeling the girl didn't have a very high opinion of him. She bowed nonetheless. "Welcome to Lord Mathers' domain. Please, follow me."

"Thank you," Lelouch said, then turned to the coachman. "I don't know how long we'll be staying, is that alright with you?"

"Sir Reinhard said I should take care of ye, so I'll do that."

"Thank you," Lelouch repeated. "Let's go, then."

The coach trailed after the blue haired maid, slowly ascending up the hill.

###

They arrived minutes later. The mansion was large. Quite a bit larger than Reinhard's, though that made sense considering the amount of space available in the capital without stepping on the toes of other nobles.

Ushered into the mansion and towards a well furnished room, Lelouch came face to face with Roswaal L. Mathers.

The margrave looked like a jester. His long face and purple colored clothes made it hard for Lelouch to get another image of him. He even had a ridiculously small hat on the top of his head.

"Welcome to my mansion, Golden," the margrave greeted. Lelouch twitched, but took Mathers' hand when he offered it.

"Thank you for your invitation, margrave," Lelouch said. "But please, just call me Lelouch, I'm not sure how much I like my new title."

"The upjumped nobles in the capital just love their nicknames and titles, they don't even memorize actual names anymore, just family names."

Lelouch chuckled. "I can see how that can be a problem. I assume you've received a letter by Lady Karsten?"

"I haven't." Roswaal shook his head. "We do have a visitor from the capital, however."

So she sent someone ahead. Or perhaps she didn't want Roswaal to learn about her suspicions while Lelouch was near, afraid that the margrave might be able to convince him where she hadn't been able to.

"Oh?" Lelouch asked.

"Russell Fellow," Roswaal said. "The royal treasurer."

"I see," Lelouch said, nodding. "I hope I'm not getting into the way of any possible negotiations-"

"On the contrary, when he heard that you were visiting, he prolonged his stay. It seems that he's interested in the young commoner who made himself a name in the capital."

"I don't see what I have to offer to a man like that, I'm afraid," Lelouch said. "There's not much to my name."

Russell Fellow. He heard the name before, read it, even. A man who was responsible for pushing Lugnica's economy to second place among the four kingdoms, only below Kararagi.

Anastasia Hoshin on the throne might mean a fusion of Kararagi and Lugnica into one kingdom depending on her sway in the western kingdom.

"He's been handling a lot of trade for Lady Karsten," Roswaal said. Lelouch grimaced. The margrave knew more than he let on. "And her interest in you might have spiked his interest as well."

"I see," Lelouch repeated his earlier words. "Of course, I'll not refuse an offer to speak with a man of such position. But that's not quite why I'm here, Margrave."

"Of course, forgive my ramblings," the jester smiled widely. "It might be better to discuss the issue on the table at lunch. Lady Emilia will join us."

"Very well."

The dining room wasn't much larger than in Reinhard's mansion, but it was more pompous. The paintings and flowers arranged everywhere made it look smaller than it was, the sheer amount of furniture wasn't helping.

Sitting to the margrave's left side, the blue haired maid was joined by a red haired girl that looked just like her - twins, he assumed. When the maids left the room to get the food, she entered.

With silver hair that bobbed up and down with every step and the flawless appearance befitting of an elf, Emilia entered the room, giving a curt bow towards Lelouch when she saw him.

Formal. Serious. That wasn't how he had met her.

"Now, now," Roswaal said. "There's no need to be so rigid, dear. Lelouch told me to skip the formalities already."

It wouldn't be easy getting a read on her if she was that tense.

"Yes," Lelouch said. "Please, relax. This is your home, after all, and I'm merely a guest."

Emilia's shoulders slumped as if a great weight was gone from them, though there was something akin to irritation in her eyes. She must've tried mentally preparing herself for this. Did he give her that impression? Someone to be polite to or else?

Puck appeared from under her hair, floating in front of Lelouch's face as Emilia sat down.

"Hmmm, hummmmm," Puck made noises, crossing his arms, holding one hand under his chin, the motions flowing into each other. "You don't look very golden!"

"Puck!" Emilia said, leaning forward in her chair. "Don't do that to our guest-"

"Don't worry about it," Lelouch said. Just… relax. "I've not chosen the name by myself, they named me after my magic."

"It's… yang magic, right?" Emilia asked. Roswaal nodded. Lelouch lifted his hand, releasing the slightest tinge of golden mana- then the door got kicked in quickly, and the blue haired girl stood there, her expression wide in fear and in her hands a flail.

"Rem, what is the meaning of this-"

"It's barely there," Rem said feverently. "But it's lingering."

"Lingering?" Emilia asked. Lelouch narrowed his eyes. There was no trace of the Witch's mana. He didn't tell anyone. So how could she tell? A Divine Blessing? She didn't feel human. Maybe… some racial trait?

"The-"

"Rem," Roswaal said. "That's quite enough. If you're tired, please go rest in your room. Ram can take care of your duties for today."

He knew.

Roswaal knew as well. Lelouch was once again out of his depth. They somehow could smell the witch on him when he couldn't even feel her himself. His mana must be somehow tainted, naturally in a way.

If normal mages couldn't notice, like the nobles, but this girl could…

Rem left when Roswaal's stare turned serious. Emilia looked back and forth between Lelouch and the door. He might need to reset, whenever he ends up might be better after jumping head first into this situation.

"Do you know, Lord Mathers?" Lelouch asked. The man smiled thinly.

"Yes, it's quite… uncomfortable, I admit. But you're a guest, and I know you're not one of them."

Them meaning the cultists, Lelouch assumed. Something was wrong again. And a strong feeling of dread began to spread through his chest. If the witch was constantly with him, and her scent was lingering, noticeable by a few, then did that mean rejecting her presence would once again mean dying under pain and suffering?

He prefered to die when he wanted to, and as painlessly as possible, not by the hand of a mad witch.

Emilia still looked confused before Puck settled on her head. "Just enjoy the food for now. You guys look like you swallowed a rotten fruit."

Lelouch forced himself to relax, having grown tense in the face of this unexpected situation. Just as Ram entered with the food, a glare fixed on Lelouch, a blonde man in a suit entered. Russel Fellow.

Emilia looked even more uncomfortable than before. Rem's sudden entrance made her tense up, and even though Puck looked like he was aware of what was happening, he wasn't informing Emilia.

"Ah, Lelouch Lamperouge!" the able looking man said. "What an honor to meet you, you're the talk in the capital lately, the nobles can't stop bringing you up."

"I admit, the attention doesn't make me very comfortable," Lelouch said. Russell laughed.

"Whimsical people will find something else to talk about in a while, just stay put and don't save any more nobles, then you're golden."

Lelouch sighed through his nose. "Of course."

Emilia giggled at the pun.

The man noticed the tension in the room and immediately worked against it. At least there was something good about this situation now.

The finely prepared food sat in front of him, but Lelouch didn't feel very hungry at this point. Smiling, he took a bite, nodding in appreciation.

"Due to the rather… unfortunate situation in the capital in which you've helped Lady Emilia out," Roswaal said. "The Emilia camp of the royal selection owes you a debt, Lelouch Lamperouge."

"I did what I had to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, margrave," Lelouch said. "Helping Lady Emilia was part of it."

"Yet you're in this kingdom without any background on where you came from," he said. "No reason to help the royalty of this kingdom or its people."

"If you're implying that I did so knowing she would owe me a debt, I'm more than willing to call if off to prove my goodwill, margrave Mathers."

"No!" Emilia said, leaning forward again. This time she hit the table with her hands. "We're not even yet, we owe you more than we could repay-"

"Lady Emilia," Lelouch said, smiling at her. Of course she wouldn't just let him walk away without repaying the debt. "I'm glad you have your spirit back."

"I, uh," she said, her face slightly red. Nodding towards him, she put her hands off the table. "Thank you, Sir Lelouch. I apologize for my earlier display."

"Rotten fruits, the lot of you," Puck said. "Making my dear daughter so tense."

"Forgive me, oh great spirit," Lelouch said, smiling at the floating cat. "I'm afraid that reasons are my own, however, Lord Mathers."

"I understand, and if Lady Emilia wishes to repay the debt, as her sponsor, I cannot decline."

"You are talking about someone who might one day be your future queen," Russell said. "Perhaps you shouldn't make her decision about you."

Mathers' smile was feral. Russell gave him a kind and practiced smile in return.

"I wouldn't wish to impose," Lelouch said. "I've followed this invitation to learn more about another of the candidates. After meeting Lady Karsten and Lady Felt, I've also had some contact with Lady Barielle's family."

"Quite the list of names for someone who appeared out of nowhere," Russell said. Lelouch shrugged.

"What can I say, it must be my magnetic personality."

Russell's eyes gave off a small glint. He knew from Crusch. If Mathers knew about the witch's scent, knowing about the suspicions about the Sage doesn't sound too far fetched either.

"I'm not sure what to offer to you, good sir," Emilia said. Lord Mathers leaned back in his chair, while Russell leaned forward. "There's not much that has the worth of a life."

"It wasn't I that saved your life," Lelouch said. "I only made it possible for Reinhard to do so. Please consider that before you make an uneven offer."

"Or perhaps," Russell said. "The situation can be cleared easily."

"Oh?" Lelouch asked. "How so?"

"A life is worth as much as a life," Russell said. "So she could offer her hand in marriage-"

"Absolutely not!" Puck shouted at the same time as Lelouch's quieter "No."

Puck tried to move forward and made punching motions towards Russell as Emilia held him back. Lelouch spoke up before the spirit could do so again.

"I'd have to decline such an offer," Lelouch said. Puck glared at him in return.

"You saying my daughter isn't good enough for you-"

Lelouch coughed. "That's not it. I'm afraid I'm not interested in marriage."

Lelouch wasn't the emotional person that'd condemn political marriages and say that he would be taking away the choice for a loving life if he had said yes, but he didn't know anyone well enough, he didn't know how they tick.

And if he was forced to, he would probably marry anyone but Emilia.

The Witch's scent aside, the girl's appearance was the same one as the one in his vision, though the exact features were hidden in darkness. There was something dangerous about her, something he didn't like.

"It might be better if we just consider this topic closed," Roswaal said. Lelouch nodded, as did Emilia, who was red in the face. Puck scoffed, sitting down on the table.

"What about favors?" the silver-haired girl asked. "Within reason, I'd support you for three favors should you ask them of us."

Lelouch blinked. That was more than generous, and Roswaal didn't look unhappy about it.

"That sounds reasonable," Lelouch said. "I'd like to make it clear that I've decided to stay neutral in the royal selection, after a discussion with Lady Crusch Karsten. To avoid any shows of favoritism, please put these thoughts aside until after the royal selection. I'd not wish for rumors to spread."

"I understand," Emilia said. Puck nodded, staring at Lelouch suspiciously.

"Refusing my Lia, I'll show you. Your bed sheets will now be cold, forever! I curse you!!!"

Lelouch blinked at the cat-shaped spirit.

"I'm… sorry?" Lelouch tried.

"Bah, you're no fun," Puck said, floating up. "Alright, three favors from Lia means three favors from me too. So if you need anything, just ask."

"Thank you," Lelouch said, his thoughts jumping. "Actually, I do believe that I have something you could help me with."

"Of course, the great spirit Puck will do anything to help the puny mortals, what do you need?"

"Puck," Emilia said, resigned.

"I've come into possession of a peculiar book," Lelouch explained. The subtle approach hadn't worked out lately, so the direct approach was all that remained. If that didn't work out either, he might have to reset. "I can't read it, neither could Reinhard. Perhaps a spirit as old as yourself knows how to."

Puck's eyes narrowed, and it was as if the air froze.

"A book you can't read, hm?"

"Yes," Lelouch said, trying to keep the shiver out of his voice. Russell looked uncomfortable, as did Roswaal. "It's a white book, I think it might be related to Lugnica's past."

"White?" he asked. The room heated up again, rather quickly this time. The sudden change in temperature led to sweat on Lelouch's brow.

"White, yes," Lelouch said. Roswaal sighed in relief.

"Let's take a look at it later, then," Puck said. Lelouch nodded, returning to his now cold meal. Russell left the mansion an hour later. Probably to report something to Crusch.

###

Staring out of a window from the hall, Lelouch observed as Emilia walked together with Puck, speaking with the spirit.

The situation wasn't ideal. But with the amount of missing information, the only way to actually get information was to make leaps of faith and regret them later. Lelouch held onto the hope that things could go his way for once, with Crusch's obvious fear of his impact on the royal selection.

Moving towards his guest room, Lelouch stepped in. The books he had in the carriage had been brought up, sans the white book he kept on his person.

He'd have to continue his practice and studies.

Magic was as fascinating as it was hard to master.

One incantation can be used to create different spells. Changing of syllables can change the form of the spell, while the prefix can boost the power at the cost of spending more mana on it. The 'alphabet of magic' as it was called was a constant. If you understood a spell well enough, you could create the spell without the incantation, though using it improves focus nonetheless.

For Yang magic, creation of matter and improving his body was the major aspect. Someone well versed in Yang magic might be capable of constantly holding a strengthening spell in their body, giving them inhuman strength and speed if they so wished. It was a goal to work towards.

"Sasam, Sabal." Lelouch created a needle and a dagger. The sword by the side of his guest room, the one that Felt gave him, looked sturdier, stronger, sharper.

The dagger created by Yang magic was only as strong as the mana that created it. Taking the needle that had just the same amount of mana and slamming it onto the dagger saw both of them shatter.

The sound of footsteps outside his room made him stop.

Moving towards the door and opening it, Lelouch looked out. Nobody was there. They hid, probably in one of the neighboring rooms.

Closing the door again, Lelouch began to hear the footsteps minutes after casting another spell.

Someone who was uncomfortable with him using magic.

It could only be that maid, Rem.

Deciding to ignore the annoyance, Lelouch kept casting the spells until he felt himself grow exhausted. Step by step, he came closer to real power.

###

Puck floated in front of Lelouch, leading him towards a door.

"Isn't that the bathroom door?" Lelouch asked.

"Not right now," Puck said, opening it. Inside was a library, and a child sat there, reading a book. She looked up, her rather large forehead reflecting the light in the library, and smiled.

"Bubby! You came to visit!" she said, jumping towards him. She grabbed the cat out of the air and hugged him, sitting down in her large chair.

"I'm not here to visit," he said. "I brought a friend who needs your help."

"Hmph," she said. "Why should I help him? He's reeks."

Another one. Unless she was talking about his body odor, which was unlikely considering he just had a bath this morning. She knew.

"Because I owe him a favor and you'd do me a favor?" Puck asked, his eyes growing larger, giving her an adorable stare.

"Ugh, I can help him, I suppose," she said. "It depends on what he needs, though."

"Lelouch," Puck said. Lelouch nodded, closing the door behind him and taking the white book out of his pocket. She stared at it, furrowing her eyebrows before snatching it out of his hands.

"It was delivered to me, and-"

"It's not a gospel," she said. Puck nodded.

"I know it isn't."

"I beg your pardon?" Lelouch asked, looking back and forth between them.

"A gospel is a book that is owned by the Sin Archbishops of the Witch's Cult," Puck explained. "They get a book delivered and become members of the witch cult, but their books are usually black."

"I can't read this," she said. Lelouch breathed out through his nose.

"You can't?" Puck asked. "I thought if there's anyone who can, it's you, Betty."

"No, there's some kind of key, some ancient magic," she explained. "If you're not holding the key, you can't read it. It won't let you. I know books like these-"

Perhaps the emblem. Lelouch couldn't really show that off as easily as the book, though, there were implications with those things, though apparently there were also those about gospels he wasn't aware about.

"I see," Lelouch said. "Thank you. I'll have to find someone else to decode it, then."

"No," the child said. "You have the key. I can feel it."

Lelouch twitched. Of course she could. Magic, he felt, was more his enemy than something to pursue at the moment.

"I do?" Lelouch asked. He grabbed into his pockets, taking out the emblem. "All I have on me is this."

The key exploded in a blinding white light that settled down after a bit. When Betty grabbed it out of his hands, looking at the book again, nothing happened.

"Hmph, it's bound to you, I suppose. Maybe because you found it."

Taking the book and emblem out of her hands, Lelouch looked at the first page when the glow appeared again.

"I don't know what day it is, or what month, or what year," Lelouch read aloud, the words in front of him twisting into common English. "All I know is that I landed in this world, and that I can't find a way home."

The rest was unintelligble, so Lelouch moved onto the second page.

"I found someone to stay with. She smells of berries and nature," Lelouch read further. "This seems to be… a diary?"

"Huh," Betty said. "If one knows the magic, it can be used for this too, I suppose."

"I've decided," Lelouch read the last parts of the second page. They were the only thing still translated. "I'll stay with her and make myself a new life. Staring right here, in this new world, from zero."

Lelouch felt something inside him tremble. Bowing to Betty and Puck, he smiled slightly.

"Thank you for your help."

###

Lelouch felt something inside him stir. Tremble. Something touched him as he read those words, and his gate was burning up. Deciding to read more tomorrow, Lelouch decided to go to bed, too exhausted. Perhaps the book had some kind of effect like that.

Unfortunately for Lelouch, he wasn't able to sleep.

The moment he stepped into his room and closed the door, the lights flickered off. Then they turned on again, and Lelouch grimaced.

A man stood there. Lelouch moved his hand towards his back, whispering the Sabal spell.

"I've been waiting for you, rejecter of love," Lelouch heard. The man standing in the guest room was staring at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, his face twisted in a frown and the mop of dark green hair slightly bloodied.

The body of Rem was behind him, twisted beyond recognition, lying in bloody pool, the blue hair ripped off her head and thrown around the room.

"She smelled me out, ohhh, what a nose, to find a believer in love so quickly, the diligence! A servant like that-"

Lelouch threw the dagger forward and created Sasam, sending the needle forward as well.

They were knocked out of the air without the man moving.

"But you, you, you you you youyouyou!" the man shouted. "You're not diligent at all, you're slothful, so slothful that you're rejecting her love!"

"Might I know who I'm talking with, first?" Lelouch asked.

"Of course, I'm TRULY ashamed that I have not begun the introduction right away!"

The man bowed, his face twisted in a smile instead of frown.

"I am! The Sin Archbishop representing SLOTH, Betelgeuse Romani-Conti! AH! But who am I telling that, someone who so shamelessly attacks an opponent with magic!"

The feeling of dread in Lelouch reduced the feeling of tiredness as adrenaline shot through his body. The man was dangerous. More than dangerous.

"And I've come to show you here love! My proof of love, and you'll come with me!"

Something moved. He couldn't see it, but Lelouch was grasped by the legs and lifted into the air.

"I don't know what kind of love you're talking about," Lelouch said. This situation was lost. The only one who noticed him, keeping track of his room to be sure he wasn't doing anything suspicious, was Rem.

"You don't feel loved?" Betelgeuse asked. "You don't? Are you too slothful to feel the tingling, burning sensation inside you, the witch's love! Her love! The love of the most beautiful, most exhilarating, breathtaking, lovable-"

"If you speak about the stench of that witch," Lelouch said. "Then I don't feel it."

The man's crazed rambling stopped, and Betelgeuse bit down on his fingers.

"'Stench'?" he asked in an unusually calm voice. "That's not it, is it? You can't feel it, and call it a stench. You rejection knows no bounds, does it? Does it? DOES IT?"

The feeling of pressure around his legs increased. Lelouch hissed in pain.

Something was holding him up. Something he couldn't see. Magic, of some kind.

Lelouch created a dagger inside his hands and swung it above his legs. It broke.

"Stop struggling," Betelgeuse said. "I'll kill you. Slowly. But not before I make you realize her love."

Lelouch flew through the air, slung towards the pile of books and smashing into it. Hissing in pain as his back impacted on the desk, Lelouch glared at the man. Before he died, he'd have to find out more.

"You wanted me to go with you," Lelouch said. "Why?"

"Because you're disgusting," the Archbishop said, biting through his skin and flesh on his fingers. "Disgusting, absolutely disgusting! She loves you the most, but you reject her! You reject her as if she was doing you harm, while all she does is show you love!"

"Being loved by that Witch of Envy," Lelouch hissed, the pain in his back growing worse as the feeling of pressure lifted him up again. His right hand grabbed the sword from the ground, the sheath sliding off. "Sounds absolutely revolting, Archbishop!"

Betelgeuse screeched, and Lelouch's body was flung towards him. The sword smashed into Betelgeuse's stomach, cutting into him. Footsteps were heard outside. They must've checked on the commotion. The door wasn't opening.

"Ahhhh… this pain," Betelgeuse moaned, holding his bloodied hand over Lelouch's. "My brain trembles… and you… you thought something like this would kill me?"

The pressure appeared again, this time around Lelouch's head. The door blasted open as the pressure increased more and more, and all Lelouch could hear were his own screams.

Before Emilia could do anything, Lelouch died, his head exploding.

###

Lelouch stumbled through the door, his head feeling as if it was about to split apart from the sudden headache was feeling.

"Is everything alright?" Roswaal asked. Lelouch looked up. The dining room.

Lelouch shook his head. "I… think I might have gotten sick on the journey here. Could you point me towards the bathroom, please?"

"Of course," Roswaal said. "Lunch will be ready any minute, please join us when you feel better."

"Thank you, margrave."

Lelouch stumbled through the halls after Roswaal gave him the directions. He knew where it was, so finding it wasn't actually very hard, and Lelouch all but fell into the door.

Another point to return to.

Another adversary.

Lelouch could say for sure now, three in for three, that these save points appeared before something major went down, which meant that he'd have to struggle to survive against Betelgeuse.

It didn't sound too hard. Spend time with Roswaal and Emilia, hope they're capable of taking down the Sin Archbishop. If he avoided using magic, he might not even give off too much of the witch's scent, which would keep Rem from dying.

Shaking his head, Lelouch took the emblem and the book out of his robes and opened them. Page one and two looked like they did before.

Page three through to twenty were unintelligible. Lelouch bit his lip. The discussion with Crusch and Aldebaran was fixed now. Twenty-one to twenty-nine were unintelligible. Page thirty had a few words.

'She hasn't been the same since she found it. She was more attached…'

The book didn't have any answers. But nothing happened without a reason here, the emblem, the book. The feeling he received when he read the first two pages. It was a diary. What use was it-

The pages turned backwards on their own until they landed on page 3. The writing became readable.

"I created a spell to send her messages," Lelouch read. "So she wouldn't get lonely when I was out, learning more and more about this strange world."

Of course. Eventually, everything would work out.

At least this once.

Lelouch relaxed as the pain left and he stepped out of the bathroom. Moving back towards the dining hall, he passed Rem and Ram who were carrying the food. Russell Fellow trailing behind them.

"Greetings, Sir Fellow," Lelouch said, a small smile on his lips. He was still a bit pale, he was sure, but it should be enough for a normal conversation. Rem shot Lelouch a disgusted look nonetheless. The sheer audacity of presenting such an expression to a guest… but Lelouch couldn't say he minded it.

Because it was the expression he would have given himself he could smell the witch like that. Suppressing the mana inside him that one time gave him more trouble than it was worth, and burning Ferris' hands was proof about the danger of the witch even without her actual presence.

"Ah, you must be the Golden, correct?" Russell asked. Lelouch shook his head.

"If it's all the same to you, sir, I'd prefer just Lelouch."

"Then please, call me Russell."

"As you wish," Lelouch said, stepping into the dining room with him. Emilia was sitting there, not looking as tense as the last time. The magrave must've talked to her. "Thank you for your invitation, margrave, Lady Emilia."

"Please, sit down," Roswaal said. "We can discuss debts and the like after lunch."

"Very well."