Anyway, the Cult's to Blame

A long while later, Klein stopped crying on her own. She had realized that no amount of weeping was going to change a thing.

This... isn't a real person. How can anyone be this cold-blooded? Ah — an Apostle of the Calamity Star. Maybe she was never human to begin with.

And yet, to say she was wholly devoid of humanity wasn't quite right either. To Klein, whose eyes had swollen nearly shut, she held out a pebble from who knew where and said:

"Hey. This. For swelling, they say you're supposed to rub something round like this on it."

Klein nearly blurted out Are you an idiot? She had seen people roll an egg over a bruise, but she had never once heard of using an egg on swelling. The air, however, left no room to refuse. Unable to tell whether this was kindness or mockery, she closed her hand around the stone and rolled it in circles beside her eye.

"Hmm. That look tells me you're wondering why I'm suddenly being so nice."

Klein flinched. She hunched her shoulders and tried to slide her gaze away, but Lupin was already right there.

"Well, all our bad blood is gone, so there's no particular reason to torment you anymore. Right now is the perfect moment for us to become true sworn siblings — no, sworn sisters."

The woman who claimed she had no reason left to torment her. Was this not the same person who had made her chant anti-cult slogans — I hate the Cult! The Heavenly Mandate King is trash! — and the like? And sworn sisters, out of nowhere? No matter how sweet a candy Lupin popped into her mouth, Klein would never be taken in. The sudden turn had shaken her enough to draw tears, but Klein's loyalty was firm and hard as demonsteel.

Lips pushed out in a pout, Klein muttered.

"Just because Klein called you big sister, you seem to be under some grand delusion. Expect all you like."

"Huh? It wasn't real? I'm disappointed..."

"What were you expecting?! In the first place, you fought me like that. You laid a curse on me and ordered me to do this and that. And now you come sidling up — why?! Klein truly cannot understand Lupin!"

As if to ask what was wrong with any of that, Lupin scratched her head.

"Well, I don't hate people who help me find treasure chests..."

"......"

"No, think about it. You told me where the Holy Ark was. You told me how to get in. As a bonus, you even helped with the clinical trial. What reason do I have left to dislike you?"

"Then what about this outfit?"

Klein hauled her skirt taut. A thin shawl coat, a skirt, ribbons and frills plastered on so thick that the original Klein was impossible to picture. As if that were not enough, someone had stuck an enormous ribbon on a headband atop her head, as though she were a doll. Klein was one of the stronger Shrine Maidens; to maintain any dignity, she absolutely had to wear the Shrine Maiden vestments. Lupin, of course, knew nothing of that feeling. From where Lupin stood, a frilly dress was far better than a high-cut swimsuit.

"Why? It suits you. Cute. Like a doll."

"Ugh. That's not what I'm saying! You said you had no reason to dislike me. This is torment, no matter how you look at it!!"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Huh? Me? You? No. I only dressed you like that to lure your cult leader out. Once we meet him, I'll let you take it off. Even if it's uncomfortable, just endure it until then."

Klein shuddered as if a chill had seized her whole body. But neither rage nor sorrow meant anything in front of Lupin. Once that woman set her mind on something, she never bent.

Fine. She would adapt. Lupin was not going to change anyway. If anything, being caught makes certain things possible...

An Apostle of the Calamity Star grew at a terrifying speed, but their lifespan was just as short. Of the three Apostles who had appeared until now, none had lasted more than ten years at the longest. If the Cult could only hold out and get away, it would survive. Should she manage to deliver the Apostle's location and objective to the Heavenly Sovereign, Klein would no longer be a hostage. She would be a location tracker and an alarm for coming crisis.

Whether or not she knew of this terrifying plan, Lupin was busy grinning like a fool.

"By the way. Weren't you cold all that time? Walking around in that outfit even in winter?"

"...The weather means nothing to an Aura Master."

"Say that's true for you. Other people aren't like that."

"You overcome everything with willpower. That's how it's always been. The Heavenly Sovereign said every Shrine Maiden who catches a cold is weak-willed."

Lupin clutched at her brow.

Ah. These bastards' common sense really did leap clean past anything she could have predicted. Didn't it call to mind the naval special forces of a certain somewhere?

"Now that is one regulation Shrine Maiden! No excuses, no slacking — adapt to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the new outfit with full fighting spirit!"

At last, silence settled over the dance hall. Yegor roughly shook off the sweat pouring from his whole body.

"A victory of will, then..."

Two test subjects lay sprawled on the floor, leaking purple blood. Every long wound on their bodies was one Yegor had opened, cut by painstaking cut, over some two hours. Perhaps because he had snuffed his aura each time he dragged the sword across a test subject's flesh, his wrist was nowhere near sound. He turned it this way and that. The throbbing was pure agony.

"How did Lupin slaughter dozens of these in a single day?"

And so, all over again, Lupin felt like a monster. The theory that she was an Apostle of the Calamity Star quietly raised its head once more. However much of a dim-witted fool she was, the destructive power of that body was unmistakably beyond human. I really ought to stop by the Bureau of Astronomy at least once...

If Lupin truly was an Apostle of the Calamity Star, then watching and learning from her side would be impossible. They followed a logic of growth all their own. An ordinary Aura User who tried to keep up would only tear themselves apart.

"...Damn it."

In truth, what tore at Yegor's chest more than that was the victims. Four knights. And three civilians, dead in forms so horrific their faces could no longer be recognized. Even so, he could not simply sit in his helplessness. There was no guarantee the assault was truly over.

"I'd better prepare for a threat we haven't seen yet."

Yegor dropped through the hole in the dance hall floor into the underground waterway — the same place Klein and the two test subjects had come up from earlier. He was already exhausted to the brink of collapse, but it was to prepare for the one chance in ten thousand. Splash by splash he went on, and how far he walked he could not have said.

Before long, he witnessed a truly shocking sight.

"What... is this."

The foul stench of the test subjects' blood hung so thick from every direction that it made his head ache. They had been taken apart into countless chunks of meat and scattered everywhere, the water included. He could not be certain, but at a rough count there looked to be about ten of them. Someone had brought down the entire pack and vanished without a trace.

"Someone of this caliber was still left...?"

The Republic's Rounds and Sub-Rounds had all vacated their posts on an utterly irresponsible leave. Lupin had gone after Klein, and Emelin was down. The only person who might still count as a fighting force was Tasili, and the former Sword Emperor had grown frail, rated somewhere between Grade 6 and 7. Worse, a leg injury taken just before his retirement left him limping badly whenever he walked without a cane.

"Don't tell me... he's been hiding his strength..."

Yegor had heard that Tasili once refused an offer of the lowest seat among the Rounds. Perhaps something connected to that had happened. The details, however, were Rounds confidential, and even Yegor had no way of learning them. The Rounds themselves were regarded as standing shoulder to shoulder with the emperors of each empire.

The problem was how to report these ten test subjects.

If he said he had done it, it would be advertising to the Blumang Empire that he was here. He would be caught before long. That much was obvious.

"...I can just roughly claim Lupin did it."

And so the great exploits of Lupin, hero of the Rostov Republic, were revised yet again. Thwarting the Cult's wicked plot in advance had not been enough. Answering the Cult's ambush, she had taken Klein alive and disposed of no fewer than twelve test subjects besides — and before anyone could object, a grand heroic epic finished writing itself.

One full day later, the Cult's leaflets were scattered across the whole of the Rostov Republic. The Cult raised its voice of its own accord, claiming the damage done to the Republic's Holy Ark as its achievement. It was nothing more than a simple bluff meant to draw in new hands, but the crude phrases written in black ink on white paper set the people of the Republic — bereft of their Holy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Ark — trembling with anxiety.

With that, every heart in the Republic hardened completely. The Republic's darkness was the Cult, and its light was Lupin.

One week later, an ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠emergency Platinum Council of the Imperial Alliance was convened. Only the Alliance's supreme fighting power — four Grand Masters — and the sovereigns of the three great empires gathered there. In practice, about half the agenda of the Golden Council, where the entire membership of the Alliance assembled, was settled in this room. And yet, for fifteen minutes already, the only sounds had been tea being sipped and cups being set down. Proof that the matter was too heavy for anyone to offer an opinion lightly.

Unable to endure it any longer, the Emperor of the Blumang Empire spoke first.

"I wish to reach a preliminary resolution on the disposition of the Rostov Republic. Before we decide the matter at the Alliance Golden Council in one week's time, I would like the will of the Platinum Council to be gathered."

Ting. A long fingernail struck a teacup, and the note rang clear. The Empress of the Drachenfels Dragon Kingdom spoke as if bored.

"Expel them. They have announced to all the world that the Cult can damage a Holy Ark, so Rostov must answer for it. There may be no immediate trouble from the loss of the Ark, but they will gradually be plagued by a shortage of Aura Users. Casting them out of the Alliance ahead of time looks perfectly workable."

Tak. A teacup was set down in a fit of nerves, and the sound was sharp. The voice of the Cheonghwa Empire's Emperor was flushed and thick with discontent.

"Blumang and Drachenfels are far from Rostov, so it is easy for you to say. They sit directly beside our Cheonghwa. If Rostov falls completely into the Cult's grasp, or throws in with the North Country, we will have done nothing but add another front. If that is what your two nations desire, I trust the corresponding measures have already been prepared?"

For a while, no conversation crossed the table. Just as the Cheonghwa Emperor had said, there was no proper answer to give.

"Losing the Holy Ark is, without question, a grave wrong. Even so, drive them out at once and a crack in the Alliance is as certain as watching flame. I suggest you reconsider."

With the Cheonghwa Emperor's words, silence returned. This time, not even the sound of fingers worrying a teacup could be heard. The council had stalled, and at last the Grand Master who had been listening without a word had no choice but to step forward. Kain — the current 1st Seat of the Rounds, the man called the Flawless Sword — rose from his seat.

"What's there to overthink?"

Glug, glug. He poured the steaming tea straight down his throat in a single swallow.

"First, by the authority of the Platinum Council, we should expel the 12th Seat, Ekaterina, for abandoning her garrison without leave. If I may make one proposal, I want to test that adventurer said to have distinguished herself in Rostov for the empty seat."

Then came a crunch. His huge hand closed around the teacup and ground it to powder.

Kain's eyes, pouring out a threatening pressure, blazed a brilliant white.

"I've rested so long my body doesn't merely itch. It hurts."