The Human Who Will Kill the Demon God (1)
Sisilia pointed her sword at thin air as she spoke.
"That was truly splendid strike. Not a single ripple in that clear sword aura proves there's no gap in your heart. I'm Sisilia Windsor. What's your name?"
For the record, there was no one there.
The knights passing by whispered among themselves.
"Why's Vice-Captain Sisilia acting like that?"
"Dunno. Probably playing one of her weird games again."
"Must be autumn blues."
"Damn it, when does this communal child-rearing end?"
Autumn. Sisilia loved the slightly chilly autumn of the Liannen Kingdom. Because autumn clothes were so pretty.
But this autumn brought even more joy beyond that. It was the autumn she'd waited a full ten years for.
Sisilia sheathed her sword with a satisfied smile.
'At this level, the newbies will be totally hooked. Oh no, what if I get too popular and can't handle them all? I don't want to miss even one.'
The guild founding was nearing completion. The building was already more than halfway done. At this rate, they'd barely make the deadline before opening.
The tutorial prep wasn't ready yet, but that was something she couldn't prepare in advance anyway.
Sisilia wanted to meet people as the beautiful Sword Princess, not as some prophet saint. That route was already too late—she was a knight now!
'No matter what, they won't suddenly hold a summoning ritual next year, right? Probably lock in the newbie summons around November and get moving. Prep the tutorial then.'
With a rough plan in mind, Sisilia strolled off beaming.
It was about time to go smooth things over for Beatrice, who was no doubt buried under a mountain of paperwork.
But then—
Shweeeek—!
From Sisilia's blind spot, a mysterious figure swung a sword at her.
Sisilia just flicked her eyes over, read the blade's trajectory, and halted her step.
In that instant, the sword aimed at Sisilia stopped just shy of her throat.
"Hello."
Erterion stared at her with uncharacteristic seriousness for a moment before sheathing his blade.
"One question, Lady Sisilia."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you dodge just now?"
"Knew you'd stop."
"What if I'd been hallucinating from demon magic? Or if a demon had disguised itself as me? And your throat got slit?"
"I'd have dodged then."
Sisilia answered plainly and tilted her head.
"What's this about?"
"...Nothing. Just thought it was very much like our kingdom's Sword Princess. Anyway, got it. Thanks for cooperating."
Sisilia narrowed her eyes, utterly baffled.
"Ah."
Before heading to Betty, she should pick up some tasty cookies.
A massive round table. Queen Lydia smiled faintly.
"Today, I've called only those I trust most. We have something very important to discuss."
The retainers bowed humbly. There were retired old ministers among them. Court Mage Viaton and Northern Grand Duke Eisenberg were there too. Only the heavyweights who'd upheld the Liannen Kingdom.
These were the ones Queen Lydia trusted most. They'd think purely in terms of what's best for Liannen—and humanity—beyond politics or personal beliefs.
"You all probably know already, but explain anyway, Marquis Viaton."
Marquis Viaton rose and addressed the room.
"Earlier this year, we noticed the Flame of Protection weakening. And we discovered one thing: the goddess's power is waning, and the number of new Auras/Blessings being granted is decreasing."
Everyone knew this much. Other kingdoms were realizing it too.
"But we found something intriguing. The goddess's power isn't actually weakening."
This was info only Liannen, with their dedicated goddess research, knew.
"In the Liannen Kingdom—and across the world—the growth rate of Aura/Blessing holders' power has accelerated."
"Ho, certain?"
"We investigated the Windsor Knights: high knights showed no noticeable growth, but regular knights' speeds were markedly increased. Same results in other orders."
When this was reported to the queen, she drew the conclusion.
"Her Majesty decreed: 'The goddess is stockpiling power. Preparing for the coming calamity.'"
Queen Lydia said, "In other words, selective focus."
Marquis Viaton nodded.
"Yes. Based on that, we speculate: the 500th year of Saint Michael isn't when the goddess weakens, but when the Demon God's power strengthens. At least, that's Truth Tower's conclusion."
"Either way, bad for humanity. So, countermeasures?"
At Eisenberg's words, Marquis Viaton bowed to the queen.
"We."
Queen Lydia spoke slowly. So everyone could grasp it. Clearly, yet commandingly.
"Shall pour all the goddess's power into one person."
"!"
"Stake Liannen Kingdom—and this world's—future on that one. That's my conclusion."
Shocking words. But no objections.
The queen wouldn't allow any on this premise.
"...We must select the person."
Grand Duke Eisenberg grinned, baring teeth.
Queen Lydia wagged a finger in agreement.
"Right, Eisen. I gathered you, my most trusted, to find that target."
"But Your Majesty seems to have someone in mind already."
Eisenberg's smile deepened.
"Don't you?"
"Ah, the grand duke is excellent. Only Count Koriat 200 years ago read me so perfectly."
"Haha, wasn't Count Koriat humanity's first traitor?"
"Enemies often outshine allies. He was a fine minister."
Queen Lydia propped her chin.
"As the grand duke says, I'd have decided alone originally. But my cherished guardian knight nagged, so—. Everyone, give a word to this insolent guardian?"
Erterion, standing silently behind, muttered low.
"...Joking in this situation?"
"Sir Erterion."
Elder statesman Marquis Kehelm wiped teary eyes.
"You've finally achieved what you've preached for 80 years of life. Thank you. This old minister has no regrets in death."
"Talkaholic's had it rough handling Her Majesty."
"Sword Saint as guardian at this time—truly fortunate."
"...".
Lydia's eyes clouded, then she sighed.
"300 years I've led. The kingdom advanced. I confidently claim no wrong judgments. Yet these last 30 years, I've stepped back to observe. Deciding you of this era can judge better for kingdom and humanity—I called this royal council."
The queen smiled.
"Royal command. Select the one hero to bear humanity's future."
At her order, Marquis Viaton moved briskly. He tapped his staff once. Documents flew from the air, scattering across the round table.
"First candidate."
"Sword Sovereign Chiron Windsor."
The ministers checked Chiron's profile.
"Excellent."
Grand Duke Eisenberg showed mild surprise—not at Chiron's specs, but that a life's work fit in mere lines.
"This info solid?"
Viaton nodded at Eisenberg's question.
"By Her Majesty's command, all mage towers pooled heads for ten months. Error margin minimal."
The ministers nodded and began deliberations.
"Combat power... beyond doubt?"
"Reached the realm on pure swordsmanship, no goddess aid."
"Potential A+, combat S+."
"...He's surpassed his limits already."
Evaluating Chiron's combat was folly. A superhuman who'd become Sword Sovereign on human strength alone. Any reverence fell short.
"Leadership decent."
"Judgment lacking. Basis?"
"Two checks: dungeon clears and battlefield feats."
Marquis Viaton paused, then continued.
"...Dungeons? Smashed every gimmick. Wars? Went solo, swept all."
"...".
"Fine ability, but not judgment. We weighted 'leadership,' hence the score."
One minister raised a hand.
"Why strategy rock-bottom? Even for Sir Chiron..."
"Yeah, this feels like a slight."
"Malice involved—"
Viaton cut in firmly.
"Strategy here means intellect in command. Tied to insight eval. Strip his prowess: every decision total wipeout."
"...".
"Mage tower wizards all said: 'Lamentable F is the floor.'"
The ministers were speechless. Stung, even for a kingdom's knight captain rep.
Then Eisenberg opined.
"Sword Sovereign by personal might. Imagine goddess blessings focused—no aid got him this far."
An elder countered.
"Conversely, he suffices without. Focusing blessings wastes."
"One hero bears humanity's future. Must be perfect."
"Fill gaps with blessings..."
Eisenberg halted. Fundamental doubt.
"Do goddess blessings boost brains?"
"Hm."
"Chiron's out."
Ministers eliminated him. Two profiles left.
Next candidate.
"Edward Windsor."
'Top contender.'
Most thought so—till Eisenberg eyed the other sheet and chuckled.
"Sisilia Windsor."