Quickening

With the sparring over, there was no reason to hang around the library, so we climbed back into the carriage and headed for the Levien manor. There were a few minor moments in between—Ragnis tidying up the sparring grounds, or going over the match with Sir Radnelbandes and receiving various bits of advice—but it didn't take very long.

We talked briefly on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the ride back, and it turned out that reclaiming the Levien Margraviate had been in the works long before Ragnis ever returned to the capital.

Some talk touched on the geographical advantages the region offered, but I hadn't exactly studied tactics or strategy, so I didn't fully grasp it.

What I could clearly understand, though, was the symbolism—retaking the only piece of the Kingdom's territory that had been occupied during years of stalemate.

The Kingdom was in turmoil, and it wanted a decisive victory that could flip the mood entirely. The Levien recapture was meant to serve as the spectacular opening salvo of the counterattack.

Honestly, just going all-out was reason enough, but as if that wasn't bad enough, the past year had been one damn incident after another, and apparently the royal family ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had gotten desperate too.

Mandeli Port was wrecked, it came out that Envelde had been preparing treason, the Holy Light Cross Order's leadership hadn't just turned to demons but had infiltrated the capital to summon an Archdemon, and to top it all off, the Demonfolk's gate tricks had dumped western orcs right near the capital—so wouldn't you know it, the people's anxiety was spilling over?

I didn't really feel it firsthand since the atmosphere around me wasn't like that at all. Personally, what really grated on me was the fact that aside from Mandeli Port getting trashed, I'd been directly involved in every single one of those incidents.

At least I managed to dump the Holy Light Cross Order branch mess onto Siegfried. Thank fuck for that. It wasn't exactly a grand slam or anything though, was it.

In some ways you could say it looked like Ragnis was being used, no different from that, but what the Kingdom needed wasn't a discardable pawn—it was a hero. So Ragnis, who was receiving every kind of support there was, was closer to using the Kingdom herself. And more than anything, Ragnis herself wanted to take part, so it wasn't my place to run my mouth about it.

"So, about that—would you maybe join the campaign with me...?"

The topic Ragnis cautiously raised as we carried on talking was a surprisingly belated one. I couldn't tell why she was asking so gingerly, but my answer was already decided.

"Yeah."

If she hadn't brought it up, it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something I would've been the first to mention anyway.

I felt a little bad for Ragnis, but there was no denying this campaign was perfectly suited for battlefield experience. On top of being a battlefield where our allies were many and the enemy was likely fewer, it was a must-win, so the support would be better than anything some half-assed unit would get.

Unless the whole damn country was tipping over and throwing itself into a total war, there was no reason to refuse an opportunity like this.

"R-right. Of cour—huh? You said yes?"

Though the one who'd actually brought it up acted like she'd never expected that answer in her life.

"What's with that reaction? You thought I'd say no?"

"Uh, ah. Well, I thought, now that you're a wandering knight, you'd move toward your own goals."

"With zero intel right now, how well could I possibly move? If anything, getting battlefield experience early while the rear support is this solid is a long-term win."

I laid out a fairly reasonable explanation, but Ragnis still acted like it was wildly unexpected, so I probed a little. Turned out, she'd assumed I'd sprint straight into the battlefield without a second thought, stir up chaos everywhere, and interrogate the Demon King's Army.

At this point I was genuinely curious just what kind of mental image of me had taken hold, but...

Considering how many things I'd already done, I figured I'd just be digging my own grave, so I shut my mouth and let it pass.

◈

Becoming a wandering knight didn't mean my life suddenly changed overnight.

No matter how many distinguished figures gathered, it was still ultimately the nobles' domain, and since I lived far away from them, the rumors circulating didn't really connect to me anyway.

Of course, it wasn't as if there were no changes at all. If I had to name the biggest one, it was that the guild officially passed along word of my medal and appointment, and all the fake Eldmias vanished in an instant like roaches that just got sprayed.

They said it didn't even take a week for the bastards to disappear entirely. Occasionally, some former fake Eldmias would show up dragging a dog around, and when I heard they were guys who'd gotten attached to the dogs they'd bought to imitate me and just started traveling with them, I honestly laughed out loud.

The next biggest change was definitely the academy.

After I'd gotten tangled up in the orc gate incident and came back, students had already been eyeing me on the pretext that I must be tired, but now they were outright lighting up and trying their damnedest to make contact with me.

The ratio seemed to be roughly 7:2:1—students wanting instruction, students trying to grab connections, and students aiming for romance. When Teacher and Seneran were around, they obviously couldn't approach, but in any other situation, I was completely out of luck, and it was a pain in the ass like you wouldn't believe.

When Sheryl was there, it was a bit better. Every time her pickled-radish eyebrows flared up with fury, most students who tried to approach would just U-turn on the spot.

Most of them, that is.

"Please, just one more lesson!"

"If it's not too much trouble, could you take a look at me as well?"

Kalits, ranked 3rd in swordsmanship, and Griwills, ranked 2nd, even got past Sheryl and kept clinging to me, demanding instruction.

After seeing Kalits actively push forward like he was ready to get down on his knees, and Griwills standing next to him with that sly, mastermind smirk trying to shove himself in as a tagalong, I finally caught on: Kalits was being egged on by Griwills, and despite getting refused every time, he kept coming back without giving up. As expected of someone from a merchant family, the bastard was good at walking a clever tightrope. With that level of diligence in his swordsmanship too, he'd go far.

But that was one thing, and this was another. I couldn't waste time on something that brought in no money, so amid days of sending them packing each time, time eventually crept toward the end of January.

And it was only today that I finally got to hear why Seneran had told me, right before we killed the Archdemon, to absolutely never use that technique in front of clergymen or mages.

"You get it now, Eldmia? If you break it down based on this theory, that technique you deployed wasn't formed solely of Magic Power. It was mixed with Divine Power, or it straight-up was Divine Power."

After a very, very long-winded theory session, that is.

Honestly, I didn't properly understand even half of it, but my situation was so extraordinarily unique that my grasp on it was closer to semi-forced acceptance.

"Ma'am, you're going too fast."

"Don't bullshit me. I can tell from your face you've basically got it. How long do you think I've been teaching you?"

Seneran had been about to wipe the portable chalkboard crammed full of writing but then, as if it was too much of a hassle, shoved it aside and chugged down the long-cold tea to wet her throat before looking at me. Her gaze carried a nuance that was somewhere between skeptical and unconvinced.

"There are no exceptions. Divine Power is definitely involved with you. A member of the Human Race can use Magic Power, and Divine Power is involved too? You know what that implies, don't you?"

"It's all going too fast for me, so I don't know."

"Ah, shit. If I were planning to run my mouth about this somewhere else, I'd have done it right away. You think I'm crazy enough to be sitting here like this? Quit dodging."

I'd hit the limit on dodging answers with evasions, so with a sullen expression, I had no choice but to nod. Only then did Seneran seem somewhat satisfied, scratching her head and muttering.

"What god would even grant a blessing in this kind of way...?"

The truth was, Magic Power and Divine Power didn't immediately call the Demon God to mind. If they did, wouldn't the Demon God Church have been put through absolute hell inside Demonfolk Territory from the moment they learned I could use Magic Power?

The Dragon Race can use Magic Power, and demons likewise operate on Magic Power as their foundation ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in order to manifest in this world. Magic Power itself is like air spread throughout the world.

If anything, the idea that the Demon God had blessed a member of the Human Race who was fighting the Demonfolk tooth and nail was so contrary to common sense that dismissing it as delusional nonsense would be perfectly natural. That was precisely why Seneran was simply assuming my situation was 'a god's blessing.'

But that was as far as she could go. It was so far outside common sense that there was nothing she could do but puzzle over it. Even for her, the idea that the Demon God might bless a member of the Human Race seemed to be one of those obvious-in-hindsight 'Columbus's egg' answers.

But since I couldn't tell her the truth either, I just stayed silent and petted Laika. While pretending to be lost in thought a little.

The one who broke that awkward silence was Teacher, who had been quiet for a good long while.

"...Near Eldmia's hometown, there was an altar of the Demon God."

Both Seneran and I were shocked. I was shocked at the fact there'd been something like that near my village, and Seneran seemed shocked out of anticipation that she might be able to find a connection.

"Why are you only saying that now?"

"Saying what? The hypothesis that the Demon God might have blessed a member of the Human Race from a country fighting the Demonfolk?"

"Sorry. Now that I hear it, if you'd said that before, I would've thought you'd gone senile."

Whether it was a mage's characteristic free-spiritedness or because she was genuinely the same age as Teacher, Seneran spoke without the slightest mercy. Teacher didn't seem to care much about it either, but the more that happened, the more the Confucian dragon inside me made me a little uncomfortable.

Shit, should I start treating her a bit more respectfully even now? Just as that thought crossed my mind, Seneran, who had been deep in thought with her chin propped on her hand, sprang to her feet.

"Let's go!"

"Huh? Where?"

"No, not you. You're joining the Levien campaign soon. Widra, you remember where the location was, don't you?"

Watching her, who was clearly filled with the idea of heading to the Demon God's altar, Teacher offered a somewhat skeptical opinion.

"That place was already fully investigated back when Eldmia was around five years old."

"Five years old? How many decades... ah, right. The kid's sixteen now. Ten years... that's tricky."

It felt weird being low-key treated like some old-timer by a person who frequently didn't act her age, but she was thinking so seriously that I just glared at her.

Those ten years seemed to waver her resolve, but it didn't last long.

"There's just one thing. Something I might be able to confirm. Let's go."

Was I going to find out some hidden birth secret or something once I got back from the campaign...?

Watching Seneran brimming with certainty, I agonized for a long while over whether I should take this situation as a good thing or let it unsettle me.

Obviously, no answer came.