Preparations for the Opening (3)
Sisilia's proposal had made its way all the way to the noble council. Things had snowballed far bigger than she'd imagined. But Sisilia felt wronged all the same.
Too harsh on a kid like me.
She hadn't expected a report penned by a sixteen-year-old Sword Princess to be taken this seriously. That's why she'd cheekily tacked on "majority opinion of the Windsor Knights" for a bit of extra weight—never dreaming it would shatter the scales entirely.
"This is blatant overreach! How dare a knight, sworn to purity, meddle in politics!"
"What kind of oversight is this for your subordinates!"
"And isn't His Majesty soft on that daughter of yours anyway!"
And so, a hearing to grill Chiron was convened.
"To repeat myself once more: I know nothing of this matter."
We're screwed.
Huddled in one corner, cloaked by her Aura of Wind, Sisilia broke out in cold sweats.
"What do you mean? It says the Windsor Knights hold a majority."
"Hiding cowardly behind your little girl, are we? Some knight captain you are!"
"Never seen a fox of a bear like this."
Yet Chiron stared straight at perfectly concealed Sisilia and said, "Let me assess the situation."
Run for it!
Sisilia crept silently out of the chamber.
***
"I didn't do anything wrong."
In the office, Chiron reviewed his reports while Sisilia stated firmly.
"I just thought of ways to help the kingdom more and put them to paper. That's all."
"I see."
Chiron looked up, his tone curt. "Then why are you kneeling?"
"……."
Sisilia was in the midst of self-reflection. Chiron had been raked over the coals by the nobles for a good ten hours straight. She gazed at distant mountains, feeling a twinge of guilt toward him.
"Reflection is enough."
"Yes, sir."
Forgiven! Heehee.
Sisilia beamed innocently and turned to leave the captain's office. But the door wouldn't budge. Chiron's doing, no doubt.
"What gives? Open it... Eek."
Sisilia trembled at the sight of Chiron radiating an aura as dark as the Demon King's.
"When will you ever grow up?!"
At his thunderous roar, Sisilia dropped to her knees faster than anyone.
Chiron sighed at her prim landing.
"Explain yourself."
Sisilia brightened. If he heard her grand vision, he'd surely understand.
***
Every lord had their own knight order. In medieval times, knights were the measure of power and a symbol of wealth. The same held true in the Liannen Kingdom.
But there was a slight difference.
They also served to monitor Blessing holders.
Knights were Blessing holders too—what gives? "A Blessing of support? Steadying objects without a wobble... Oh, now I can sip tea on horseback."
The world had precious few with knight-level prowess.
Each knight was a superhuman worth a hundred men. Not just sword skill, but sufficient mana talent and a combat-worthy Blessing were required to even qualify.
Thus, only a tiny fraction of Blessing holders could claim the title of knight.
Nobles gathered these "useless" Blessing holders and exploited them mercilessly.
"P-Please, sir! My wife's gravely ill. Just this once, a bit more from my pay!"
"Now, now, aren't we already compensating you generously?"
"It's not even a tenth of the gold I bring in!"
"Insolent fool! Do you know how troublesome your Diamond Blessing is? From sourcing skilled jewelers to feeding and housing you—the investments are endless!"
Scenes like this were commonplace.
The nobles' reason was simple: it profited them. And they could get away with it.
Liannen Kingdom. Through Sisilia's eyes, it was a true realm under the late king.
Yet a vast gulf separated the capital Terezia from the provinces. No protections shielded them from such inhumanity.
"...Impressive."
Chiron nodded at Sisilia's explanation.
"If we let non-knight Blessing holders take freelance requests through the guild as you propose, it could free them from the nobles' cruelty."
Chiron felt quietly pleased. Looking out for the weak already—it was the mark of a true knight.
Sisilia puffed up proudly.
"It was absolutely necessary."
I won't let my newbies get forced into lifestyle player hell.
That was the real goal. Packaging mattered more than contents, after all. Like her granola bars—fancy box was all that counted.
"But are you confident?"
Chiron asked gravely. "It won't be easy."
"Is that so?"
"Blessings determine noble hierarchies. You didn't think they'd yield easily?"
Sisilia smiled quietly.
"Trust me."
"...And where'd you pick up that archaic speech?"
To save her newbies from the daily grind, Sisilia—a true veteran—was ready to pull every string she could.
***
Even for Sisilia, this was a heavy load despite her bold words.
Approve this change, and grant me more authority and budget!
Founding a guild wasn't simple.
Legal paperwork was underway, but buildings came first. A grand one, naturally.
And that was just the start. Salaries for cute receptionists, a purebred pup... Expenses everywhere.
Plus, for an independent outfit, investments were needed—pure dividends, no operational control.
Tricky part.
Strip nobles' power while begging their coin.
Convince them with a pure business model, but all I know is the sword.
Sisilia blinked. She was a cute, lovable Sword Princess, sure—but zero talent for that stuff.
If she could craft business cycles, she'd be a chaebol heiress back home...
So, Sisilia resorted to the inevitable: a method unique to medieval Liannen.
"Rejected! Outrageous! Is this the best that tiny brain can muster?"
"Hear, hear! We already have mercenaries!"
To the nobles' uproar, Sisilia replied demurely.
"Weak mercenaries aren't already in your basements?"
"W-What? Confinement, you say?!"
"What does a greenhouse knight know? Tsk tsk."
"It's for the kingdom! How dare you insult us!"
A tactic viable only in Liannen's medieval backdrop.
Namely—
"Do you believe Goddess Michaela blesses Liannen?"
"W-What?!"
"Of course!"
Sisilia smiled meaningfully.
"Really? That's odd. Who interprets the goddess's will?"
"T-That's..."
Burn, baby, burn!
Goddess arm incoming!
Faith was a hot potato in Liannen. Sisilia exploited it.
"Her Majesty the Queen, naturally."
"We know you're loyal, but come on—priests handle divine matters."
"Are you denying the kingdom's foundation?!"
This world resisted demons thanks to the goddess's grace. Yet Liannen had no church.
Grateful but not worshipful—that was Liannen's way. Thanks to the queen.
Queen Lydia had purged all church—Holy Nation—elements with her ironclad rule.
"Only the church interprets divine will! Centuries of scripture study and sermons. Denying it mocks the goddess!"
"So priests decide everything? Our queen receives the Blessings, her armies win battles. What's your proof the church monopolizes God's will?"
Debates like this were routine.
Sisilia watched her tiny spark erupt into a blaze with great satisfaction.
The problem...
"Fine! Settle this now. End the third session—reconvene tomorrow!"
"I'll have resolution!"
Okay, tone it down now...
It blazed too well, dragging meetings over three days.
***
Anyway, got my result. Time for drinks.
The dreaded arsonist Sisilia aimed for "division."
A united foe was trouble. Fractured ones? Easy pickings. Basic tactics.
Sisilia executed flawlessly, splintering nobles over goddess views. Personal grudges often soured debates, after all.
But victory cheers were premature. With Sisilia the knight blocking retreats, a queen's check was needed.
"Is this real?"
"Yes."
"...You'll hand the proposal to me?"
Here, it was a prince, not queen.
Edward Windsor.
"No reason to refuse, but why? You'd have seized real power pushing it yourself."
Lazy.
Honest, but unsayable. Sisilia gave a fitting excuse.
"Honestly, you'd have hounded me if I'd pushed it."
"Lucky if it ended there."
"Pardon?"
"Haha, kidding."
Didn't sound like one.
"Anyway, I'll make the nobles pass it. Impressive, though. First time I'm proud of you."
Edward ruffled her hair, beaming.
Sisilia barely resisted biting, explaining instead.
"Opposition's fiercer than expected."
"Don't worry. After all—"
Edward smiled coldly.
"I've got her blood."
Sisilia grasped the meaning at the next meeting.
"So, you'll oppose?"
"Y-Yes. These are the goddess's graces. We should guide their use properly—why no oversight? What if misused?"
"I'll counter: What if misuse happens under noble control right now?"
"T-That's."
"Simple."
Edward strode up, grabbed the noble leader's hair, and growled with killing intent.
"Then I'd sever your head to atone to the goddess."
One phrase ended it.
Sisilia, awed by his presence, decided on pigtails tomorrow.