Chapter 84
Chapter 84
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Rkeia's Hypothesis
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“Uh, um.”
Having heard Rkeia’s hypothesis, Rachel found it hard to offer any opinion.
“The Black Sorcerer was the one moving the corpses, right? Maybe he told the viscount that if he listened to him, he could save His Highness?”
Rkeia had come up with that hypothesis after pondering alone for two months.
It sounded plausible but didn’t quite hit home, so when Rachel didn’t react strongly, Rkeia tapped on the basket to draw her attention.
“Listen to this. I asked Father about Queen Consort Lamia, who was the First Queen Consort.”
Marquis Nerus had long been immersed in politics. He had no choice but to be well-versed in noble affairs and palace news.
“What did the marquis say?”
“He said the First Queen Consort was the one who recommended Viscount Noema as the crown prince’s tutor. But apparently, he wasn’t originally a noble.”
“No way?”
“It’s true, I’m telling you.”
Rachel blinked.
Recommending a commoner-born tutor to the next king, the crown prince, didn’t make sense by any common standards.
‘I thought my own rise in status was unprecedented, but there was something even more extreme.’
“So, since he couldn’t have a commoner tutor, His Majesty granted him a viscountcy.”
“I had no idea. But how did the First Queen Consort, who was a lady of the Remediea Marquisate, come to know him?”
“That’s the thing—apparently, after the previous Remediea marquis couple lost their daughter, they adopted the young First Queen Consort.”
Even after losing her daughter, the Remediea marchioness clung to the belief that her daughter was still alive, so the marquis brought home a commoner girl who looked exactly like the deceased child and adopted her. That girl was Queen Consort Lamia.
“Maybe she knew Viscount Noema from before the adoption?”
“That has some credibility. But wouldn’t it be even harder for the crown prince to be taken hostage by the Black Sorcerer? You can’t use black magic in the palace.”
At Rachel’s point, Rkeia furrowed her brow.
“Then we’ll scrap the hostage hypothesis!”
Even so, Rachel thought parts of Rkeia’s opinion might hold true.
At first, Viscount Noema might have joined hands with the Black Sorcerer to seek the truth, but after the crown prince died, he became more cooperative to revive him.
‘That question was off-base.’
Everyone had been flustered after the viscount bit his tongue. The question of why he did such a thing couldn’t deny that “such a thing” encompassed a broad range.
Teaming up with the Black Sorcerer? Or gathering the scholars that day? Or attempting to kill Henri?
The answer pops out depending on how the listener interprets it. Even the confession potion, which they’d trusted as perfect aside from its short duration, had its gaps.
“This is it—there’s no satisfying answer.”
“But unlike before, the Third Prince’s faction has been greatly reduced!”
Rkeia shrugged. Carion’s faction remained strong, but Demian’s had been halved—no, it was practically torn to shreds.
First, they’d cut off the major funding source, Paris Emporus, disciplined all related figures, and expelled them from politics.
Even amid Carion’s checks, they’d sliced away the intellectual faction.
What remained for Demian were the Black Sorcerer, a few nobles, and some merchants, but even those merchants had recently lost their influence. Jesty had formed a merchants’ alliance and was diligently keeping them in check.
On top of that, Carion—who had been indifferent to politics—was now prowling various departments, making it harder to commit corruption as before.
“Even if he starts a civil war, he can’t wage a war of attrition like he used to!”
The kind of battle where he crushed opponents with massive capital, like in some previous loop, was now impossible. At this rate, Carion would smoothly ascend to the throne.
“Honestly, from what I’ve seen, that guy isn’t the type to sit still. He’ll start a rebellion or something, right? That’s when our family steps in and takes him down!”
Rkeia mimed slitting her throat with her thumb. It was a gesture far from the image of a noble lady, yet she still managed to look charming.
“By the way, how’s it going with Enoch these days?”
“Huh? How’s what?”
Rkeia, who’d been talking about Demian, suddenly changed the subject. Rachel had nothing particular to say.
“Now we don’t have to pretend not to know each other anymore. Enoch has to visit the palace often for various duties, so you’re meeting more frequently than before, right?”
Her tone sounded probing somehow, but Rachel scratched her cheek.
“Lately, I’ve been so busy with work that I’ve been eating packed lunches. Enoch’s been out constantly handling the back-alley cleanup operation, I bet.”
“Ugh, so frustrating.”
Rkeia pounded her own chest, muttering to herself about whatever was frustrating her.
“This is why temple folk are like this! Or is Rachel too young? But you’re only three years apart?”
“Why? Enoch and I aren’t like that. We’re just friends.”
It had been that way in previous loops, and it was the same now. Rachel figured it would probably stay that way going forward.
‘If there was any potential, it would’ve happened in a previous loop already.’
They had once lived under the same roof for two whole years, yet it never developed into romance.
She understood Rkeia’s reaction, but Rachel was certain Enoch’s feelings would never evolve into romantic ones.
“Now I get why your nickname is the Cold-Blooded Witch.”
Rkeia looked at her with pitying eyes and said so.
“Ah, seriously, whoever came up with that nickname!”
Rachel felt wronged. She had a reason for saying they were friends, but Rkeia acted like she had an iron wall up.
Her title was the same issue. She’d tried tracing the origin of where it spread from but hadn’t found the source.
Instead, she’d learned the reason: a ridiculous rumor that she’d ruined her family to rise in status.
“First it was monster, now it’s witch.”
“Right? How could anyone give such a nickname to someone as cute as this?”
Separate from the administrative officer’s recognition, it seemed there were those in the palace who resented her receiving a title and working as an administrative officer.
“So, how’s the magic coming along?”
Rachel shook her head and sighed.
“Still no progress.”
Just once, when she regressed with Enoch, her mana had activated. Otherwise, nothing.
‘I have no idea why that Crow guy is so obsessed with it.’
Peace the priestess and Enoch said it wasn’t malevolent energy, yet Crow coveted it, so it couldn’t be dismissed as entirely safe power.
“It’s definitely some kind of concealing power, but it won’t manifest as magic.”
“That’s tricky.”
The two girls put their heads together and pondered. But no answer emerged.
“Lunchtime’s almost over.”
A bell tolled in the distance, and Rkeia stood up. Rachel followed suit.
“Yeah. Thanks. The meal was delicious thanks to you.”
“I’m the one who’s glad to see my friend’s face after so long.”
The two embraced.
“I’m heading down to the south for a while. You handled it well, but the rain was intense, wasn’t it?”
“Using magic to revive the wheat fields?”
“I can’t bring dead grass back to life. Reviving wilted grass is the best I can do.”
Rachel burst into laughter at Rkeia casually mentioning something so remarkable.
The crops flattened by the downpour could be considered mostly dead, but with her power, she could save them. No, she could even make them grow back more vibrantly.
“This makes it even harder for the Black Sorcerer to operate, doesn’t it?”
In some previous loop, starvation was a given. Those unable to pay taxes fled their territories and became bandit gangs.
During such times, it was hard to fully track missing and dead, creating a perfect stage for the Black Sorcerer.
Come to think of it, Henri—an ordinary doctor without a title—had been able to kidnap people for human experiments partly because of such a backdrop.
In peaceful times, even one disappearance would be noticed immediately.
“Demian’s downfall is almost here.”
Rkeia said with her green eyes sparkling. Her wishes were coming true step by step.
In truth, though the four of them moved together, not everyone harbored grand purposes.
Only Enoch was devoted to preventing the Demon King’s descent, while Rkeia and Abyss sought personal vengeance, and Rachel simply strove to live a life without repetition.
From afar, excluding Enoch’s goal, their motives seemed too personal. Yet the opponents were so evil that fulfilling personal desires aligned with good.
Rachel found that ironic.
‘What started as trying to survive past three years safely somehow turned into punishing evil and benefiting the world.’
Salvation, the witch’s wish.
Whether this was truly what the real Rachel desired was unknown, but she clearly felt that the end of this path was capturing the Black Sorcerer and preventing the Demon King’s summoning.
Did that mean she was strong like ancient heroes?
‘She doesn’t have Mother’s exceptional swordsmanship, nor Enoch’s powerful divine power.’
She only had the ability to regress upon death and darkness-attribute mana; physically, she was just an ordinary human who could barely fend for herself.
But even weak humans could change the world. Just like they were doing now.
“Your wish will come true.”
It was a message to Rkeia and to herself at the same time.
Rachel and Rkeia separated.
“Thanks for the encouragement. I’ll do my best.”
Hearing her friend’s cheer, Rkeia clenched her fists tightly in joy.
“You too, Rachel! Keep it up!”
She waved as she walked away from Rachel. Only after Rkeia’s figure shrank to a dot did Rachel turn around.
“I got encouraged too, so I gotta step it up. Let’s go, let’s go, fighting!”
She psyched herself up like that and turned, only to find someone standing behind her. Her face bumped into someone’s chest.
“Pfft.”
She stepped back, rubbing her sore nose, when a snickering sound reached Rachel’s ears.
She looked up at the person. An irritating face with one corner of the mouth lifted came into view.
“Your Highness Carion, it’s not proper to stand so close behind a lady.”
“Is that so? Sorry, but she’s so small I didn’t see her.”
Rachel forced a smile. She wasn’t hamster-sized; there was no way he hadn’t seen her.
Carion was teasing her about her short stature. It also implied she fell short of being called a lady.
“Haha, I see. By the way, lunch hour just ended, so why are you here?”
“Let’s say I came out personally for someone who hadn’t returned even after lunch hour ended.”
In short, he’d come looking for Rachel.
“Just so you don’t misunderstand, I don’t usually come back this late.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll believe you.”
“What’s with that reluctant tone? I’m serious!”
She’d always kept to schedule and worked diligently, but on the one day she took it easy, Carion came looking for her. Feeling prickly, Rachel added a few words, but Carion didn’t seem to believe her.
“So, why did you come looking for me?”
Instead of pleading for belief at his attitude, Rachel asked his business.
‘No Louis sticking to him like glue, and no royal guard knight in sight. Did this guy ditch work?’
Rachel narrowed her eyes sharply at Carion.