"Well, Asta, let me tell you the sad reality of being Wizard King."
Asta's eyes widened as he sat beside Vanessa, across from Sebastian and Noelle, on the water eagle soaring through the clouds. The horizon ahead darkened with the coming night, while the wind lashed against their faces, tugging at their hair and clothes.
Sad? Asta had never heard that word in the same breath as Wizard King. Words like perfection, absolute, greatness, selfless, heroic—those were the ones he'd grown up associating with the title. The Wizard King wasn't just a person. It was the ideal. The pillar of the Kingdom.
Yet here was Sebastian, speaking of the position like it was... pitiful.
Asta's mind churned. Ever since Sister Lily had told him the story of the first Wizard King, it had become everything to him—his dream, his aspiration, the very goal that drove his life. People had ridiculed him, sneered at him, mocked him for being a magicless peasant daring to reach for something so unattainable. But Asta could handle insults. He could shrug off the taunts and jeers because he had absolute faith in his dream.
But this? This was different. This wasn't an attack on him. This was an attack on the Wizard King itself.
He clenched his fists, torn between anger and confusion. How dare he speak like that? He wanted to shout, to tell Sebastian he was wrong, but for the first time, Asta found himself at a loss for words. What if he's not wrong? whispered a small, unwelcome thought.
Until now, no one had ever questioned the dream itself. People dismissed him, not the ideal. No one had ever told him, Your dream might come true, but it won't be what you think it is.
Sebastian watched Asta's uncharacteristic silence and gave a small nod, as if waiting for this moment. He leaned forward slightly, his voice steady. "Asta, can you tell me clearly—what is your dream?"
Asta straightened his back and locked eyes with the older man, his voice strong despite the swirling doubt. "To become Wizard King!" His fists clenched as he added, "To prove that even a peasant like me can be someone great! And to make this Kingdom a place where everyone can live and laugh together!"
Somewhere in the flurry of emotion, Asta didn't even realize he hadn't mentioned marrying Sister Lily.
Sebastian nodded thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "I think that's the first thing we need to address."
Asta blinked, tilting his head. "What is?"
"This idea of yours," Sebastian said, his tone calm but pointed. "You say 'and'—as if those two things naturally go hand-in-hand. Becoming Wizard King and changing the Kingdom. But tell me, Asta, when exactly did you get the impression that the Wizard King is capable of doing such a thing?"
Noelle and Vanessa stiffened, while the anti-bird, Secre, perched on Asta's head, narrowed her sharp eyes at Sebastian.
Asta clenched his fists tightly in his lap, the tension visible in the slight tremor of his arms. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to steady himself before asking, "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" Sebastian began, his tone deliberate, "is your real dream to become Wizard King, or is your real dream to make this nation a place of equality? Because those are not the same thing."
Asta stared at him blankly, his mind struggling to process the question. Sebastian sighed, leaning forward slightly, and spelled it out more clearly. "Do you want to become Wizard King so you can make the Clover Kingdom a nation of equality? Or do you want to make the Clover Kingdom such a place that you need to become Wizard King to achieve it?"
"What I'm saying is," Sebastian continued, "I believe your real dream is the latter. Becoming Wizard King is just the means you've convinced yourself you need to achieve your true goal."
Which, to be fair, Sebastian thought wryly, wouldn't be wrong. For a nobody peasant like Asta, only becoming Wizard King would give him the power and influence to make any real change in the Clover Kingdom.
"No way!" Asta vehemently shook his head. "Becoming Wizard King is definitely my dream!"
Asta had faced countless people questioning his dream before—mocking it, laughing at it—but this was different. No one had ever questioned whether he even understood his dream. His chest tightened at the implication. Even an idiot like me knows what my dream is! His fists clenched tighter as his resolve flared.
Sebastian raised a hand, his tone softening slightly. "Okay, fair enough." He nodded, almost apologetic. "Let's put that aside for a moment. I'll ask you again: why do you think becoming Wizard King and changing this nation into the ideal one in your head go hand-in-hand?"
"Because the Wizard King is the top dude in the nation, right? What he says goes!" Asta didn't hesitate, his answer brimming with certainty. "Everyone admires and follows the Wizard King, so if I ask them to get along, they definitely will!"
Noelle and Vanessa exchanged subtle frowns, both thinking the same grim thought.
Asta…
Kiddo…
That's not true at all.
After a moment, Asta's confident expression faltered. He lowered his head briefly, drawing another deep breath, before lifting it again and meeting Sebastian's gaze with renewed determination.
"Mister Silva, where are you going with this?"
Studying Asta's reaction, Sebastian gave an inward nod of approval. With a steely expression, he responded to the question with one of his own.
"Asta, in our nation's history, there have been 28 Wizard Kings. Do you know how many of them shared your dream?"
Asta furrowed his brows, taking a wild guess. "Three or four?" It couldn't have been too many; otherwise, this Kingdom would already be the place Sister Lily dreamed of.
Noelle and Vanessa exchanged subtle nods, agreeing that his estimate wasn't far-fetched. Meanwhile, Secre, perched atop Asta's head, narrowed her eyes. Her gaze grew distant, her avian pupils reflecting a more complex thought process.
Sebastian shook his head, his voice blunt and deliberate as he enunciated each word. "Every. Last. One. All. Twenty-eight."
Asta's pupils dilated, his breath catching, but Sebastian wasn't finished.
"I'll concede not all of them were as passionate as you, Julius, or his predecessor. But every Wizard King shared a similar dream—to break down the barriers of class and make this Kingdom one without discrimination."
Asta's lips parted as if to respond, but nothing came out. His mind reeled as the weight of Sebastian's words began to sink in.
Sebastian leaned back slightly, his tone turning somber as he drove his point home. "Twenty-eight generations. Five centuries of Wizard Kings. And yet, here we are—still stuck in the same place the First Wizard King, Lemiel Silvamillion Clover, left us. Barely any closer to achieving the ideal Kingdom he envisioned."
Secre closed her eyes, her feathers ruffling slightly as though she could no longer bear the conversation.
Noelle glanced sideways at her father, her mouth slightly agape, struggling to process his words. Vanessa turned her gaze to Asta instead, a faint look of pity crossing her face.
Asta's breath hitched, his body trembling faintly as the truth sank in. He finally understood why Sebastian had said those two words earlier: "And fail."
Sebastian didn't doubt Asta could become Wizard King—not even for a second. What he doubted was far more crushing: How could I succeed where every single Wizard King before me failed? What makes me so special that I could change this Kingdom after becoming Wizard King, when none of them could?
"...How…? Why?" Asta's voice cracked as he choked out the words. He needed to know how it was possible. How could every Wizard King have the same dream and still fail? He couldn't understand. He wouldn't understand. It had to be a lie, a cruel joke.
Please let this be a lie, he begged silently, his fists shaking. Because if it wasn't…
Then how could the Wizard King—my ideal, my dream—be so useless?
Sebastian sighed, tilting his head to the night sky. For a brief moment, he admired the stars above, feeling the cold wind brush against his skin. Then, with a measured breath, he turned his attention back to Asta.
"Because of people like me."
Noelle trembled faintly beside her father, while Asta snapped his full focus onto Sebastian, his eyes blazing with frustration.
"What do you mean by that?!" Asta demanded, his patience fraying.
This time, Noelle didn't chide him.
Sebastian wasn't offended in the slightest by Asta's outburst. When he spoke, his tone was gentle, almost patient.
"At the end of the day, most of the Wizard King's power and influence is tied to the military. To pass reforms and create real change in this nation requires approval in the courts—political might."
He paused, his expression hardening. "And those courts? They're dominated by nobles and royals, particularly the supremacist and elitist ones. The very people who would do everything in their power to make sure your dream never comes true."
"Why?!" Asta's voice cracked with frustration. He couldn't understand it—why would they constantly get in the way of peasants and commoners? Why block people from living with even a shred of dignity?
"Because it's inconvenient," Sebastian said coolly. "And it's threatening."
Asta flinched at the bluntness of his words, but Sebastian pressed on.
"Everyone wants to climb the ladder, Asta. When you're at the bottom, with nothing to your name, it's natural to want more. But those at the top? Few are willing to step down from their position or share their wealth, power, influence, land—everything they've hoarded."
Sebastian's voice grew sharper, cutting through the noise of the rushing wind around them. "Why would nobles and royals, who already have everything, want to give it up? For what? A few half-hearted words of gratitude from peasants and commoners?"
"They wouldn't be half-hearted!" Asta shot back, shaking his head vehemently. "They'd be sincere as—"
"Don't give me that, Asta!" Sebastian snapped, his sneer sharp enough to make the trio around him stiffen. "Everyone is human. Everyone has greed, and an endless desire for more. You think peasants and commoners, once thrown a bone, will settle for just that? No. First, they'll want meat. Then coins. Then power. They won't stop at equality with nobles and royals. They'll want to replace them, to go from the oppressed to the oppressors!"
"Not everyone is as kind or pure-hearted as you," Sebastian continued, his voice icy. His gaze flickered to Noelle briefly, a subtle, complicated glance that made her tremble, before turning back to Asta. "Discrimination and exploitation exist everywhere—even among the lower classes."
"As a magicless peasant, the bottom of the bottom, you've experienced it more than anyone. Do you think there's a single noble, royal, or commoner who would willingly risk becoming you? Living life in your shoes?"
Asta bit his lip hard, his fists trembling on his lap. Fury, indignation, and helplessness swirled inside him, but he couldn't muster a response.
Because everything Sebastian said was true.
Asta wouldn't have wished his fate—his life—on anyone. One of his greatest motivations for becoming Wizard King was to change his destiny, to go against fate, to rise above it all. To live a good life.
Asta clenched his fist so tightly his nails dug into his palm, his gaze somber as it locked onto Sebastian.
"I'm not an idiot. I know it's impossible for everyone to be truly equal. We're all different—individuals. We can't all be on the same level! But… that doesn't mean commoners and peasants like me shouldn't be allowed to live better lives, to live like humans! To not be spit out, spat on, and treated like dirt by all the fancy nobles and royals!"
Sebastian nodded. "Definitely. But the elites will never risk the chance that those at the bottom aren't just after equality, but something more."
"I don't care!" Asta shouted, shaking his head before standing up, his back bending as he roared to the sky. "Even if I can't make my dream a reality in this lifetime, that doesn't mean I can't make progress! Maybe I can't see it happen, but the generations of Wizard Kings who come after me will carry it forward. One day, it will come true!"
Straightening up, Asta turned to face Sebastian, their gazes locking. "Not seeing the reward for your effort sucks. But that's not a reason to give up. Wizard Kings aren't useless! I'll definitely become Wizard King, and no matter what all those fancy people throw at me—no matter how many times they try to keep me down—I'll never quit as long as I live. I'll never give up! Because never giving up is my magic!"
He jabbed a thumb at himself, the defiance in his voice radiating outward like a beacon.
Secre opened her eyes, her previously distant gaze sharpening. She gave a slight nod, visibly pleased.
Vanessa and Noelle couldn't help but smile broadly at Asta.
You're really something, kiddo.
Bakasta will always be Bakasta. This is who he is!
"Hahhhhhhh…"
The warm feeling was short-lived. Everyone snapped their attention back to Sebastian as he let out a long, tired sigh.
Noelle, Vanessa, and Secre narrowed their eyes. Sebastian was staring at Asta with a complex expression. Among the many emotions in his gaze, one stood out clearly.
Pity.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Asta's brow furrowed deeply. He could take being insulted. He could take being dismissed. But pity? That rubbed him the wrong way.
"Asta," Sebastian began, his tone heavy. "Didn't I say I could be imprisoned for what I was about to tell you? Tell me—do you think anything I've said so far has been particularly jail-worthy?"
Noelle stiffened. As a royal, she knew her father's influence better than anyone. Everything Sebastian had said so far might earn a few frowns in noble circles, but it would take much more than that to imprison a royal patriarch.
Asta bit his lip. His voice softened. "You still haven't made your point?"
Sebastian shook his head slowly.
Asta's leg buckled slightly, but he held his ground, standing tall despite the growing unease in his chest.
After a moment of silence, Sebastian spoke gently, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "You're a lot like him, you know?"
"Who…?" Asta raised a brow, curiosity piqued.
"Conrad Leto. The previous Wizard King. Julius's predecessor."
Everyone's eyes widened in surprise as Sebastian continued with a wry chuckle. "'Never giving up is my magic.' That was his favorite catchphrase."
Ignoring the incredulous stares from everyone around him, Sebastian turned his gaze to the starry sky, his expression distant as he began to recount a story.
"Conrad Leto, the 27th Wizard King, was born into a noble house. But despite his status, he faced ostracization for several reasons."
No one interrupted; the weight of his words held their attention.
"His magic attribute was called Key Magic. It allowed him to unlock anything, even grimoires, and steal other people's magic. People feared him for that, even his own family. His house saw it as thief-like magic, unbecoming of nobility."
Asta clenched his fist, his face darkening. Vanessa leaned in closer, intrigued. She had fled the Witch's Forest after Conrad's term and knew nothing about him.
"On top of that," Sebastian added, "he was weak as a child, with little control over his magic. Nobles have no tolerance for weakness, so he was shunned even more."
Noelle's brows furrowed subtly. For the first time, she found something she could relate to in the story of a Wizard King.
Sebastian scratched his cheek, pausing briefly before continuing. "Despite the rejection and ridicule, Conrad never gave up. Over time, he mastered his magic and uncovered its true potential. But instead of earning him acceptance, his newfound strength only deepened people's fear of him."
The group listened in silence, their expressions grim. Sebastian, noting the frowns on their faces, pressed on.
"Conrad was deeply hurt by the way people treated him. But even then, he kept moving forward. He became a Magic Knight and eventually met Julius and a young woman from the Forsaken Realm—a peasant named Lovilia. The three of them grew close as friends, and for the first time, Conrad began to trust and open his heart."
Sebastian's tone softened as he continued. "Conrad eventually founded his own squad, the White Serpent, with Lovilia by his side. They married, and she became his most trusted partner. His achievements and merits piled up, and he earned the love and respect of the Kingdom. He rose to become the 27th Wizard King."
A faint smile played on Sebastian's lips, but it didn't last. "Ten years ago, Conrad died in battle. Julius, his best friend, succeeded him as the 28th Wizard King a few years later."
Asta tensed, his shoulders stiffening. He died so early. The thought was undeniably sad, but he quickly pushed it aside.
That's what it means to be Wizard King, Asta reasoned. You shoulder the nation's burdens, protect it from threats, and accept the risk of dying in the line of duty.
His grip tightened slightly, but his resolve didn't waver. Something like that isn't enough to make me throw my dream away.
Sebastian scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, that's the official story, anyway."
Secre's eyes narrowed, her avian pupils sharp.
"Official?" Noelle blinked, tilting her head to look up at her father. "What do you mean?"
Sebastian met her gaze, his expression heavy. "What I'm about to tell you is taboo. Never speak of it out loud, or you may find yourself in a dank, forgotten cell with the key thrown away—or worse, sent straight to the gallows."
The trio stiffened at his words, nodding solemnly.
After a brief pause, Sebastian exhaled and decided to be blunt. "Conrad's progressive policies and reformist agenda rubbed a lot of elites the wrong way. Fourteen years ago, a particular royalist faction, one that despised him, schemed against his wife and his squad. They massacred every last one of them."
The weight of his words hit like a punch to the gut.
"How could they do that?!" Asta shouted, his voice raw with disbelief.
"F-Father…" Noelle's voice trembled as she grabbed his shirt, desperation in her eyes. "We…we weren't part of this, right?!"
Sebastian gently shook his head, and Noelle slumped back in visible relief. He turned his attention back to Asta, his tone indifferent. "We just had this talk. You know why."
Secre narrowed her eyes, her thoughts running wild. So that's what happened…
Vanessa blinked, then pulled a bottle of booze from her grimoire satchel. Without hesitation, she uncorked it, took a deep swig, and fixed Sebastian with a steely gaze. "And then? What happened next?"
Sebastian didn't answer right away. Instead, he shifted his focus to Asta. "What do you think Conrad did when he found out?"
Cold sweat trickled down Asta's neck as he tried to put himself in Conrad's shoes. He thought about what he would do if something like that happened to Yuno, Sister Lily, Father Orsi, the kids back in Hage, or his squad—the Black Bulls.
Asta's lips twisted into an ugly, shaky smile as he stuttered out a guess. "...S-sought v-vengeance?"
Sebastian shook his head, his expression darkening with sorrow. "Conrad was devastated—angry, heartbroken, and betrayed. To see the Kingdom he loved reveal such a cruel and corrupt side… But even so, he forgave the culprits and dropped the issue."
Silence fell.
Asta stilled. Noelle stilled. Vanessa stilled.
The three exchanged baffled looks, each grappling with the same impossible question:
How could someone possibly forgive something like that?!
Sebastian let out a weary sigh. "Perhaps such magnanimity is an unspoken virtue that only a Wizard King can truly possess."
He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone solemn. "Conrad took it upon himself to try and 'fix' this kingdom. He sought to build a nation free from prejudice and discrimination, one where everyone could live with dignity."
Sebastian's voice grew heavier. "He tried for four long years, but to no avail. Every move he made was sabotaged by the corrupt, black-hearted politicians who hold sway in this kingdom."
His lips quivered as he lowered his head in shame. "And I…I was among them."
Noelle trembled, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Father…" she whispered weakly. Instead of pulling away, she leaned against Sebastian's shoulder, her head bowed. The older man froze for a moment, then trembled slightly at her silent gesture of forgiveness.
Sebastian gritted his teeth, lifting his gaze to meet Asta's complicated expression. After a deep breath, he pressed on. "Even a man as forgiving as Conrad had his breaking point. Fully alienated, he gave up on this kingdom. He decided the only way to achieve his utopia was to destroy Clover and rebuild it anew from its ashes."
"Naturally, our Magic Knights couldn't stand by and let that happen, no matter how much they adored, respected, or sympathized with Conrad," Sebastian added gravely.
"So that's how he really died?" Asta asked softly. "On the battlefield, just like the rumors said…but no one mentioned his enemies were our own people?"
"Not quite." Sebastian shook his head. "Conrad was too strong to kill. All we managed to do was seal him away. Julius—his best friend—took it upon himself to do it personally."
Vanessa, clutching her bottle, frowned deeply. "How could the Wizard King do something so cruel to his dearest friend?"
Sebastian's gaze locked with hers, his tone firm but sorrowful. "It was because Julius was his best friend that he had to do it. He felt it was his responsibility."
The room fell silent until Sebastian spoke again, his voice calm but serious. "If you don't believe me, ask your captain. He was part of that mission."
The trio stiffened as Sebastian turned to Noelle. "Your brother, Fuegoleon, Mereoleona, and others—they were all there."
Asta shook his head as he sat back down. "No need, Mister Silva. I don't think you'd lie about something like this."
After a moment, Asta looked back at him, his expression firm but conflicted. "So…is this what you're trying to tell me? To give up? Because the elites won't just come after me—they'll go after everyone I care about."
Sebastian nodded, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "Among other things, yes. I've only just met you, but I like you, kid. I don't want you to wake up in 15 years and see a stranger in the mirror—an emotionally scarred, broken man wondering where the happy and determined Asta went. As a magicless peasant with a five-leaf grimoire, a symbol of the devil itself, whatever torture Conrad endured—and what Julius continues to endure—will look tame compared to what the elites will have in store for you."
Locking eyes with the ash-blonde boy, Sebastian's voice softened. "Stay out of politics. Settle for becoming a captain and making your squad the strongest. That will be enough to prove that peasants aren't helpless garbage—and it'll change the opinions of many in the higher classes." His tone grew gentler. "And most importantly, you'll still be happy."
Asta studied the older man for a moment before breaking into a soft smile. "I like you too, Mister Silva. Sure, you sound like you were kind of a jerk in the past, but the you I see today? The you I know? You're a pretty awesome dude!"
Sebastian's eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in quiet surprise. Noelle, still leaning her head against her father's shoulder, smiled warmly at Asta's words.
After a beat, Asta's trademark confident grin returned. "Actually, I'm thankful you told me all this. Now that I know what's in store for me, it doesn't seem so scary anymore! Whatever they throw at me, I can handle it. And if they try to mess with my friends or family—well, I'll just get so strong that no one would dare touch them!"
Sebastian froze for a second before letting out a low, inward chuckle. I was being stupid… Asta wouldn't be Asta if he let something like that get to him.
But then, Asta's grin faded, and his brows furrowed in thought. "That being said, this made me realize something. I've been way too careless about my dream. I never really thought about people getting in my way after becoming Wizard King…"
His tone turned serious as he focused on Sebastian, his sharp gaze holding everyone's attention. "Mister Silva, you're a big shot in politics. You must know how I can make my dream come true! Please tell me!"
Sebastian sized him up with a long, measuring look before sighing. "There are a few ways," he began. "The first one is what we talked about earlier: making slow progress with each generation of Wizard Kings. Maybe, in another 500 years or so, your dream could come true."
He paused briefly, then added, "But there's no guarantee. If the wrong person takes over as Wizard King, you could see years, even centuries, of progress undone in the blink of an eye."
Asta shook his head firmly. "Not really an option, then."
Sebastian nodded in agreement. "The second way…is a bloodier path. If you become the strongest, you could force everyone to get along and silence any dissenters. But that could lead to a bloody civil war that might destroy the kingdom entirely. And even if it doesn't, after you're gone, things could go right back to the way they were—or worse. People don't forget being forced into submission; they'd just grow angrier over time."
"Also not an option," Asta said, shaking his head again, his resolve unwavering.
Sebastian hesitated, coughing lightly into his fist. "Well…there is one more way. It's the one method that would definitely work. But…" He shook his head, his voice dropping. "It has nothing to do with you. Let's not talk about it."
"Please!" Asta's shout startled everyone as he suddenly bent into a deep bow, almost a kowtow. "Please, sir, tell me!"
Sebastian blinked, taken aback by the boy's desperate sincerity. After a moment of wry bewilderment, he sighed heavily. "Get up, kid."
Asta rose slowly, his somber expression unchanging as he waited for Sebastian's response.
Sebastian spoke softly, his words carrying weight. "If you could become the True King, you could easily accomplish it."
Vanessa and Asta exchanged confused glances before asking in unison, "True King? What's that?"
Noelle, who had been leaning quietly against her father, suddenly straightened in realization. "That…actually could work!"
Her enthusiasm caught the duo off guard, and they snapped their heads toward her, eyes wide. Noelle sweatdropped slightly but quickly explained. "The True King is someone who not only becomes the Wizard King but also takes the throne as the King of the Clover Kingdom."
Sebastian nodded, elaborating. "It's an extremely difficult and laborious path. But if you succeed, you'd wield complete control—not just over the kingdom's military but its political sphere and royal court. Your word would truly become law. If you told people to jump, they'd ask how high. If you told them to smile, they'd compete to see who could smile the widest. If you told them to get along…" He paused, his lips curling into a faint, wistful smile. "Well, you might walk out one day to see even the most elite of nobles helping an old peasant woman carry her bags."
Asta's and Vanessa's eyes comically widened, their jaws nearly dropping.
Sebastian chuckled before continuing. "Moreover, as the True King, you'd have the power to appoint not only the next Wizard King but also the next monarch. That way, you could ensure that whoever succeeds you shares your vision, ensuring equality doesn't just last a single generation."
He leaned forward slightly. "And over time, as people got into the routine of treating others with dignity, that behavior would become second nature. Even if a bad apple took power someday, it would be hard to undo such a deeply ingrained status quo."
Asta's grin lit up the room as he pumped his fist in the air. "That's it! I'll become the True King—"
But then he stopped mid-sentence, his enthusiasm faltering. "Wait, what did you mean when you said it has nothing to do with me?"
Noelle snorted, flicking one of her pigtails over her shoulder. "Because, Bakasta, you're not royalty. You can't become King to begin with."
Asta froze for a moment before dramatically slumping to his knees, looking utterly defeated.
Sebastian gave a small sigh, his gaze drifting to Secre, perched atop Asta's head. "Lord Lemiel… If he had survived his battle with the Ancient Demon, he could've—and likely would've—become the True King. He could have made this nation the kingdom of his dreams. But alas, he died too soon."
Secre's expression grew complicated. She closed her eyes, her thoughts swirling in silence.
Sebastian's tone grew somber. "Becoming the True King isn't a simple task. Since Lemiel's time, there hasn't been anyone with both the magical might and the political influence needed to be a real candidate."
He didn't mention the quiet murmurs of House Vermillion, who believed Fuegoleon might have potential. But Fuegoleon wasn't even the current favorite for Wizard King, let alone someone Sebastian could imagine diving into the murky depths of politics beyond his duties as Lord of House Vermillion.
Sebastian looked down at Asta, about to offer some consolation, when Asta suddenly snapped his head up, locking eyes with him.
"Mister Silva!"
"...Yes?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow, caught off guard.
Asta sat up, crossing his arms confidently. "You said the True King can make this dream a reality because they hold both thrones, right?"
Sebastian nodded.
"So, if I'm reading you right," Asta continued, "the main point is to control both thrones—so you control the military and the politicians, right, Mister Silva?"
Sebastian nodded again.
Asta took a deep breath, then declared with conviction, "Then you don't really need to be the True King, right? As long as the Wizard King and the King are close friends, work together, and are on the same page, they can fix this country, right?"
Sebastian blinked, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's possible. On paper, it might even be easier—no need to take both thrones. But the question is, can two people ever really be perfectly in sync, perfectly on the same page—"
Before Sebastian could finish, Asta whipped his head around to Noelle, crawled up to her, and grabbed her hands, their faces inches apart.
Noelle's eyes widened as her face turned a deep shade of red. "B-Bakasta, w-what a-are y-you d-doing—?"
"Noelle," Asta cut her off, his tone serious.
"Y-yeah… B-Bakasta?" Noelle stuttered, unsure of what was happening.
"Be my Queen!" Asta yelled with surprising force.
An awkward silence fell over the group.
Noelle blinked.
Vanessa blinked.
Sebastian blinked.
Secre blinked.
"Huuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh???" Three voices, plus one incredulous chirp, echoed in the air as the Water Eagle drew nearer to its destination under the night sky.