A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

A woman in her forties appeared before Erica and Liliana. Dressed in understated yet clearly expensive attire, she carried herself with an air of propriety. Despite her age, she was so well-preserved that at first glance, one might mistake her for someone barely over thirty.

Her expression was severe, and a pair of silver-rimmed glasses perched on her nose added to her stern demeanor, evoking an image of a strict dormitory manager.

"This is the residence of Her Highness Alice, the daughter of Duke Gordon!" she declared, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "What reason do you have to force your way in here?"

Erica and Liliana exchanged glances. When they saw Roy leisurely strolling toward them from behind, silent and unbothered, Erica decided to speak for him.

"And who might you be?"

"I am the housekeeper and protector of Her Highness Alice. Who are you, and why have you trespassed into the home of Princess Alice using such methods?" the housekeeper retorted, her sharp tone underscored by wariness.

Though visibly displeased, the housekeeper controlled her anger. Yet her gaze, filled with hostility and apprehension, lingered on Erica and Liliana.

As someone charged with safeguarding the White Princess, she wasn't unfamiliar with combat. But the sheer magical power emanating from these two youthful figures unnerved her. Despite their apparent age, both were unmistakably Great Knights—individuals who had reached the pinnacle of both swordsmanship and magic.

Even Salvatore Doni, the Sword King himself, had lacked the magical aptitude to earn such a title before becoming a Campione.

"I am Erica Blandelli of the Copper Black-Cross, and this is Liliana Kranjcar of the Bronze Black-Cross," Erica began smoothly, stepping forward with a courteous yet confident smile. "We apologize for intruding upon Princess Alice's residence, but a very important individual has arrived. The princess should come and greet him."

She cast a glance at Liliana, signaling her to stay silent. This sort of delicate diplomacy was Erica's forte. Her graceful, radiant expression masked her steely resolve.

Unlike Roy, Erica wasn't in a position to act without regard for consequences. Representing not only her Copper Black-Cross but also Roy himself, she was determined not to dishonor either name.

"Copper Black-Cross? An Italian magical organization…" murmured the housekeeper. Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses as recognition dawned. "You must be the newly titled Diavolo Rosso, the Crimson Devil. Which means the important individual you speak of must be…"

The woman's complexion paled as realization set in. As the housekeeper of the former chairperson of Greenwich Assembly, she was well-informed about the world of magic.

Roy finally strolled to the grand four-story palace, his movements exuding unhurried confidence. He seemed less like someone intent on abduction and more like a tourist admiring the sights. Even as he approached, his attention briefly lingered on the neatly arranged flowerbeds in the courtyard.

"King Roy," the housekeeper gasped, her expression shifting to one of alarm. She quickly composed herself, bowed, and offered a polite greeting, though her voice trembled slightly.

"Princess Alice must be remarkable to have someone as capable and loyal as you in her service," Roy remarked, his tone mild.

Clad in his striking red cardinal's robes, Roy carried himself with effortless authority. His right hand rested casually in his specially tailored pocket as he walked past Erica and Liliana, stopping before the housekeeper.

"Your praise humbles me, King," the housekeeper replied, lowering her head further. "I am merely—"

She never got to finish.

Roy's voice suddenly thundered, his previous calmness replaced by a burst of wrath. "If you knew I was coming, why has Alice not come to greet me?"

The demand was absurd—Alice hadn't even been informed of Roy's arrival. Yet the housekeeper dared not voice an objection.

Her hands clutched her chest as a sharp pain seemed to lance through her heart.

This was the power of Roy's Face of God. Though he hadn't consciously activated the authority, his very presence, coupled with his sudden shift in demeanor, overwhelmed her. The earlier warmth in his tone had felt like the embrace of spring, but his anger now struck like the harshest winter storm.

The drastic emotional contrast, amplified by the authority's latent effects, wreaked havoc on her body and spirit. Blood vessels threatened to rupture, and her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe.

After taking several shallow breaths to steady herself, the housekeeper rasped, "King, please calm yourself. I will summon the princess immediately!"

The infamous capriciousness of Campione terrified her. Even the faintest hint of resentment toward Roy could spell her doom.

But Roy wasn't finished.

"How dare you," he hissed, his double pupil eyes narrowing dangerously. "If I have come to see her, should I require permission or an announcement?"

His tone was chilling, his demeanor a masterclass in tyranny. Even Liliana, who stood behind him, shuddered at his display, feeling her courage waver. Only Erica, who had spent time by his side, remained outwardly composed. She trusted there was method to his apparent madness.

Roy's Eyes of Sodom came into play. The housekeeper watched in horror as her own soul, body and even magical energy began to crumble—starting from from her feet, in an instant half of her body turned into a pillar of salt.

Liliana froze. The sight of the same fearsome authority Roy had nearly used to kill her teacher, the Bronze Black-Cross's leader, during the conflict at She-Wolf headquarters sent a jolt of fear through her heart.

"Stop, King Roy! There is no need for this—Alice is here to meet you!"

The voice was sharp, clear, and melodic, like a songbird calling in the wilderness. In its elegance it also contained anger.

From behind the housekeeper, a graceful figure emerged from thin air, materializing at the grand entrance of the palace.

Alice Louise Of Navarre, the White Princess, was stunning beyond words.

Her platinum-blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight, framing a face of unparalleled beauty. Her elegant form radiated the charm of a noblewoman, each movement exuding regal poise. She seemed less like a mortal and more like a vision conjured from a dream.

But the flawless tableau was marred by her furrowed brow and the faint flush of indignation that colored her snow-white cheeks.

"You finally show yourself, Princess Alice," Roy said, his voice laced with mockery. "All this time, you've been hiding, sending your housekeeper to test me. How bold of you."

His tone turned cutting. "To disregard the arrival of a Devil King so brazenly—this arrogance must be Alexander Gascoigne's influence. Your misjudgment could cost you dearly."

He glanced back at the half-salted housekeeper. "Should your protector perish here, the sin will lie squarely with you—for using her as a pawn in your games."

Roy's words struck with the precision of a dagger. Alice's face flushed deeper, her expression torn between anger and regret.

But before she could respond, Roy's double pupil eyes—those dreaded Eyes of Sodom—shifted to her.