The Heavenly Mandate Cult's Optimized Talent

The Shrine Maidens all obeyed the orders of the Heavenly Mandate Cult's leader, Cheonmyeong Jiwang — the Heavenly Mandate King. By their logic, he was the sole proxy heaven itself had sent down, and only he could bring true paradise into this world. Until every uncivilized soul of the continent had entrusted themselves to the cult and awakened to the truth, the Shrine Maidens were to keep their ceremonial vestments immaculate and proudly declare their affiliation wherever they stood.

It was, in truth, exactly the sort of doctrine one would expect from a cult — the kind that exists anywhere in the world.

Some, looking at those lewd vestments, insisted they were the leader's personal taste, or garments ridden by Satan, or sheer blasphemy. Psychologists, however, hammered in a different conclusion: this was a highly sophisticated strategy for recruiting talent.

They weren't wrong. No matter how much evil the cult went around committing, anyone who saw a beautiful Shrine Maiden appear in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those vestments with their own eyes tended, if only for a moment, to side with her. Unless one had been directly harmed, the effect was even more pronounced — and even now, people were vanishing one by one, longing to belong to the cult.

That said, among the cult's Shrine Maidens there were those who, depending on their duties, wore something other than the vestments. Parmenia, stepping off the train at this very moment, was one of them.

From childhood she had shown a gift for poisons and medicines. The Heavenly Mandate King had recognized that talent, and even after she became a Shrine Maiden, he had arranged for her to concentrate on internal work rather than duties in the field.

Holed up in a laboratory, stirring nothing but ladles and rods, Parmenia had no need to wander about draped in vestments and a veil. More than that, her combat ability was hardly impressive for a Shrine Maiden, so whenever she entered a region sealed off by the central army, she was expected to disguise herself as well — tugging those sharply upturned eye-corners down a little with glue, temporarily lightening her hair with dye, painting on freckles to hide a beautiful face, and wearing glasses of special glass so her crimson irises would look like something else. Reduced to a haggard figure whose dark circles sagged all the way to her cheekbones, she had come all the way to this rough land packed with criminals, reborn as a kindly doctor offering outpatient care.

"...Huh?"

But what was this? Parmenia had barely stepped off the train before troops closed in around her. Nor was she the only one. Beside her stood some lookalike — a woman smeared red from head to toe.

The guards demanded a decision from their captain. Two lookalikes, and both of them differed, just a little, from the composite sketch.

"Th-there are two Shrine Maidens, sir. What should we do?"

"Captain! Your orders!"

This was a difficult problem even for the guard captain, unofficial president of the Shrine Maiden Parmenia fan club.

"Wait. We have to be careful. One of them is surely a companion of those two from earlier."

Lupin, or Parmenia. Both resembled the sketch, and their figures were nearly identical — but Lupin was far more suspicious, dyed red all over and reeking of blood. Still, to be shown two people this alike at the same time... If he failed to judge properly, an innocent person might suffer. His private wish to drink in Parmenia's esteemed countenance for as long as possible was, of course, included in that judgment.

After floundering for a while, the captain, at the end of his deliberations, produced a flash of wisdom as if the spirit of King Solomon had possessed him.

"Th-the two of them. Let's have them prove their own innocence to each other. There has to be a limit to how well you can lie!"

"Are you a genius, Captain?"

"Let's do that!"

Like captain, like company. And so, to decide which of them was the real Parmenia, the greatest hundred-minute debate under heaven was forcibly convened.

Had Parmenia been alone, she might have passed through without much suspicion. But Lupin had turned everything upside down, and the entire guard company was on edge — an unavoidable showdown, conducted while ringed by gun muzzles. Parmenia, utterly unbothered, struck first.

"No matter how you look at it, that one over there is far more suspicious. I don't see why I have to be investigated along with her. Look at the sketch. I'm not that pretty. I am simply a physician who came to make a house call."

Once again, the greatness of her makeup technique shone through. The guards' judging panel, failing to see through Parmenia's cunning cosmetics, leaned toward her innocence, and an atmosphere difficult to overturn in a single stroke took hold. Now every eye turned to Lupin. Would she admit she was the Shrine Maiden? Or would she offer a rebuttal and flip the mood entirely? What was the person in question thinking? Was she feeling considerable pressure?

"That's right. I'm the Shrine Maiden Parmenia!"

Not in the slightest.

Even Lupin, who lived without thinking much at all, mostly understood what a status window was telling her. That was how simply it explained things for her sake — though the scripts concerning Destiny's Star were far too long, and far too difficult. In any case, she had to follow Parmenia if she wanted to find the veil, and for that it would be a problem if the woman stayed here. So she had claimed to be the Shrine Maiden herself, to get Parmenia released.

But she affirmed it so brazenly that the guard captain only fell into confusion. This was supposed to be a debate in which you insisted you were not the one. For her to suddenly insist that she was — of course he was lost.

"No. Are you out of your mind? Then we have no choice but to arrest you."

"And you think you can actually arrest me?"

"What?!"

"I mean, come on. You spent all that time chasing me earlier, couldn't catch me, and tapped out."

"...Ngh. I can't refute that. You're right."

Right now, to Lupin, the guards were bees. Beneficial insects — and still a nuisance, droning around at her elbow.

"Anyway, I'm Parmenia. Hurry up and let this person go."

But the more she insisted it was true, the more suspicious it became. That, too, was a fact. What if the two of them were in league? What if the one who looked like a doctor turned out to be the real Shrine Maiden? What if Lupin was nothing but a front? The guard captain fixed her with a suspicious stare.

"But your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way of speaking is nothing like the Parmenia I know. She doesn't talk so loudly. She's lovely, and cute. That contrast — it doesn't match ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those sharp eyes at all, and that is terribly charming."

The guards looked at their captain as if he were pathetic, but his hymn of praise to Parmenia did not stop. Parmenia herself, hearing it, had her eyes squeezed shut. It was a truly absurd misunderstanding. She had acted out all sorts of personalities while wandering about in hiding, but even she had never imagined that, of all of them, only the cute one would be blown so wildly out of proportion.

"If you can show me that side, I'll acknowledge that you really are the Shrine Maiden."

But the lovely, cute, adorable side the captain was demanding — it wasn't entirely impossible for Lupin. Live on the imageboards long enough, and a tactical nuke or two, the kind that sent other people into fits, naturally installed itself in the brain. And those were wonderfully useful, whether you were driving off creeps or brazening your way through a bluff.

"Hawawa. I am Parmenia, and I really am a Shrine Maiden of the cult, I am."

The glorious return of DischargedSoldierSchoolgirl-chan (Permanently Banned), who had once turned the galleries upside down. Astonishingly, this manner of speech brought the guard captain comfort — and gave Parmenia herself tremendous stress. Whether he knew her inner thoughts or not, the captain was busy looking after his own interests.

"Hmm... hmm. It's hard to be certain with just this. A little cuter. A little more adorable. I'd like a few more lines."

But how long was Lupin supposed to play along with a joke like this? Once was enough. Twice was brain-rot.

"She's running!"

"After her!!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Lupin slung Parmenia over her shoulder, leapt with all her strength, and burst free of the encirclement.

"Come on, hurry. Hurry up and go!"

Parmenia had absolutely no idea ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what was happening. Why on earth was Lupin taking her side and calling herself a Shrine Maiden? In the meantime Lupin, having sprinted back to the station, climbed atop the train that had just begun to pull out and waved at the guards.

"Hawawa. High school girl... no, Shrine Maiden-chan is way too scared of this place, so she's going to run away. Bye!"

"Damn it! Everyone, aim and fire! Hurry!"

The train was moving, but its speed was painfully slow, and there was hardly a breath of wind. Aim well, and it was a distance they could certainly hit. And yet not a single bullet struck Lupin. Every round that flew went wide of her body — as if she had never occupied that spot to begin with, and only an afterimage remained.

Parmenia, who had been staring blankly at the sight, shook her head and started up the hill path.

"What in the world is going on."

Lupin rode the train down for quite a while, then came back to the city along the mountainside. Ordinarily she would have stopped by a stream or a lake to at least wash herself. Today, she didn't really have the leisure.

"...So we meet again, in the end. Thanks for earlier."

Watching Lupin — the blood soaking her clothes drying, darkening patch by patch — Parmenia bent at the waist and gave a short bow. She couldn't make sense of the situation at all, but if Lupin hadn't claimed to be the Shrine Maiden, she never could have passed the checkpoint this easily. Of course, since Lupin herself had created that troublesome mess in the first place, whether any thanks, or any apology, meant much of anything was an open question. And in the bargain, Yegor's scheme to clear Lupin of the false charge had been wrecked as well.

But right now, Lupin had eyes for nothing but Parmenia's veil. Sky. Flight. Flying. Treasure chests. In any case, she wanted that wing garment. Perhaps sensing that fervent desire, Parmenia asked first.

"Is there something you want from me?"

"Yes. There is."

"What do you want?"

"Cute and adorable words... no, that's not it."

Setting aside the curiosity that had slipped out unbidden under the captain's obsession, Lupin went straight to the point.

"I need that veil of yours. Lend it to me."

"...So you did know I was a Shrine Maiden."

Parmenia looked down at the ground with a troubled expression. In that instant, Lupin sensed something ominous. No. Not a chain quest. Not that. It isn't supposed to be that.

"I don't know why you want it, but."

"Whoa, whoa. No. You can't say that. That's GG."

"My veil isn't here."

Lupin hoisted Parmenia up again.

"Then let's go turn you in. Right now."

"W-wait! Wait!"

"Why! You said you don't have it! You tricked me! You liar! I'm selling you to the guards!"

"No. That's not what I meant by not having it. I have to make one!"

And what was that supposed to mean? Lupin tilted her head, and Parmenia explained.

"It's... I lost the veil. If I go back to the cult like this, I'm finished. So I was planning to make one myself."

Lupin's expression brightened at once.

"What. You should have said so from the start."

Of course, the plan to sell Parmenia off to the guards the moment the job was done remained entirely unchanged.