The Successor's Trial (1)
I pulled Yupi down by the collar.
Ter had begun drawing up her plan the moment the Divine Artifact fell into her hands.
The Citrine family's relic is mine now.
The last fragment of the symbol of Citrine—the very one their founder was said to have carried since ages long past.
With this, I can kill Yupi. That bitch.
Before she had ever entered the Academy, Ter had been the owner of the Wrathful Heavenly Thunder.
Back then, convinced her qualifications were more than sufficient, she had pleaded with the family elders to let her undergo the coming-of-age rite and ascend to the position of family head.
But they had refused.
The reason was a single one.
"You have yet to prove you are worthy of wielding the relic."
At the time, they had simply seemed stubborn and exasperating to her.
Unless she drove Yupi out as soon as possible, her own chances of ever rising would dwindle to nothing. She couldn't understand why they protected her while moving so hesitantly—but looking back, it all made sense.
It was a truth she could only grasp after losing the Wrathful Heavenly Thunder to Yupi and becoming the true master of the Endless Waves.
That weapon never acknowledged me as its owner to begin with.
She had never dreamed there was even a method to temporarily transfer the rights to a Divine Artifact. Only after learning that did she understand why the elders had acted with such caution.
They hadn't told her, but they had known all along—that Yupi was the true master of the Wrathful Heavenly Thunder.
Then why didn't she ever become the family head?
Yupi had killed her father and seized the position of head by force. Yet thanks to the elders' opposition, she was never recognized as the rightful successor.
Nominally she was the head, but she held no authority in others' eyes—branded an unnatural monster, whispered about and pointed at behind her back. Yupi had stood on the border, belonging nowhere.
Of course, that was only how things stood right after her usurpation. If she simply gathered enough power to pressure the family into submission, she could have claimed absolute, unquestionable authority at any moment.
I thought she would inevitably swallow Citrine whole. I was wrong.
Instead, she all but washed her hands of family affairs, living as a recluse while working as an Academy instructor. Even as Ter came of age and steadily built her own faction, Yupi showed no sense of crisis whatsoever—she watched and did nothing, fully aware of what was happening.
Did she believe she could never be family head?
Ter began to doubt. She suspected Yupi was hiding something, and she strained to dig it out.
At first, her plan was to needle her, provoke her into showing her true face. Solis's sudden appearance ruined that, and after promising not to cause trouble, she'd instead set the subordinates loyal to her on the task of digging into Yupi's past.
And that was how she learned there was one more sister above Ter.
Yuri—the information that girl brought back checked out.
As a test, she'd brought it up in front of that face she couldn't even stand to look at, waving it around like bait—and sure enough, there was a reaction.
"Tell me. That information—where did you hear it?"
The sister who had always dodged and avoided her actually shot a question back.
Ter took it as her chance. Hoping to squeeze out even a fragment about the massacre of the past, she dangled taunt after provocative taunt.
And that day, she saw Yupi lose her temper for the second time.
"You need a beating."
True to her word, Yupi thrashed her soundly.
Ter had felt powerless. She'd lost to the one person she'd hated losing to most, without so much as grazing a hair on her head. It should have been humiliating—shameful to her core. But it wasn't.
Instead, a single question raised its head.
No—it was closer to a suspicion she'd carried for a long time finally taking shape.
Why are you making that face?
A face she had never once shown anyone. When Ter saw that teary expression, as though she might crumble apart at any second, the word why circled round and round in her skull.
...
"You're asking if I have any intention of giving up the position of family head? You have got to be joking!"
Ter ground her teeth. She glared at me with an expression wild enough to kill.
That was as good as a declaration that she had absolutely no intention of giving it up.
"Good to hear."
I gave her a thumbs-up at the sight. It was a very Ter response.
"Hearing that puts me even more at ease. So go ahead—do it your way."
"You've been spouting nonsense for a while now, and I still don't—"
"What I mean is, you knowing the truth is as good as you stepping down from the head's position of your own accord."
"What...?"
Ter froze over like a statue. For a long moment her lips simply flapped without sound, her thoughts unable to catch up, until she barely recovered her composure and opened her mouth again—
Knock, knock.
A rap at the door cut the conversation short.
"Ter, it's time."
"Whew."
Yuri opened the door and stepped in from her post outside. At her call, Ter washed her face with her hands and followed her out.
"Ohhh, so the Successor's Trial is finally here. The event I've been waiting for."
And naturally, I trailed along after her too.
"...And what exactly are you?"
"What else? Off to watch something fun, obviously."
"Ugh, you're so annoying I could lose my mind."
Ter whipped her head away, irritated—but she didn't try to stop me from following.
She couldn't, really. As one of the involved parties, I had every right to set foot in there too.
"We're here."
Yuri led us to the middle of a corridor where a portal stood open. Apparently our dear Lady Palad had pulled some strings.
"Here we go."
I stepped through the portal, and there in the dim, shadowy space waited Yupi. The mild, gentle smile she usually wore was nowhere to be found—her face was taut, drawn with tension, every line of it serious. Even when she saw me arrive, she spared me not a single glance; her burning eyes were fixed on Ter alone.
"I'll keep this short. If you don't give it everything you have, the position of family head will never be yours."
It was a ferocious warning, her mana laced right into her voice. She was radiating power strong enough to make even a bystander like me shudder—but Ter, the target of it all, couldn't have cared less.
"Pfft, listen to her. Like I give a damn about losing."
"..."
A chill spread between the two sisters. The air was so heavy that even speaking to them felt like a risk, so I took a step back and watched from a distance.
I knew this suffocating silence wouldn't last long anyway.
"Have they all arrived?"
A voice rolled through the chamber as if amplified by a megaphone. Everyone present turned their ears toward it.
"Welcome, young ones, to the sacred sanctuary of House Citrine."
The words were soft as a whisper, almost affectionate, and the gentle tone put my heart at ease without my meaning it to.
"Ter Citrine, paying her respects to the Elder of House Citrine."
Having slipped into full formal composure at some point, she knelt with impeccable courtesy.
Since the founding of House Citrine, they had existed only as a formless voice, offering counsel to the family across generations. To the Citrines, they were as good as a god.
"I have heard the tale. Ter—it's true you have petitioned for the Successor's Trial?"
"Yes, Elder. It is."
"And Yupi. Is what she says true?"
"Yep."
A very short, very simple answer. Ter shot her a stunned glare, but Yupi couldn't have been less bothered.
Like sisters, all right. No DNA test needed to confirm they both go straight for casual rudeness with people they can't stand.
"Very well. You have my blessing. You have each obtained the relic that symbolizes our House Citrine—so it seems the time has finally come."
Ku-gugugu!
Before the Elder even finished speaking, the ground heaved. The floor beneath their feet split open, and from beneath it rose an enormous iron gate wrapped in rattling chains.
"That's a Gate...?"
Ter stared up at the gate towering before her with wide, startled eyes. Just as she said, the gate that had appeared before us looked remarkably like the one in Dilmun.
"This is the Gate passed down through our House Citrine. Unlike the one in Dilmun, it does not connect to every dungeon—it exists for one destination alone."
"One destination?"
"The task for passing this Successor's Trial is to venture into the depths of that dungeon—the holy land of sea and lightning—and retrieve an item known as the Connector."
"The Connector..."
Refreshingly straightforward to a fault—an excellent trial subject, all things considered. Ter murmured the item's name, clenching her fist. Beyond simply proving her worthiness for the headship, she wanted to impress the elders, and she was ready to throw herself into this fight in earnest.
"Then, before we begin, let us confirm one thing. You two—have you both gathered factions willing to follow you with their very lives?"
"Of course! Just as you say, Elder, we are thoroughly prepared."
This trial was not fought alone. The more people at your back, the better the battlefield—capable allies who could move as your hands and feet meant everything.
"Ter, judging by how confidently you declare yourself, you've gathered quite a number of helpers. Splendid."
"Heheh."
At the Elder's praise, Ter grinned like a little kid.
Look at her. Turn her around and she's just a naive little runt. Like a golden retriever.
"It appears Ter is prepared. And you, Yupi—are you all right?"
"Alone is plenty. I need nothing else."
Our cool big sis declares victory on the strength of flying solo.
Yep. That's Yupi for you. That's my girl.
"Hey, hey—Solis."
"Hm? You calling me?"
"Aren't you on that bitch's side? Don't tell me you came here to tag-team with her."
"Huh?"
Did this girl seriously think I'd side with Yupi and fight alongside her?
Well, considering the fact that I'm her lover, the misunderstanding wasn't exactly unreasonable.
"Nope. I'm going in with you, actually."
"...Hah?"
Ter's eyes went round with confusion. Paying her dumbfounded expression no mind whatsoever, I pressed on.
"I'll be fighting on your side."
A match is only worth watching when you shake it up.
And for the sake of my grand design—this once, I'll take your side, Ter.