Special Countermeasures Are Needed
Sara Lorojin had come to a firm conclusion. Drastic measures are needed.
"Orin, I'm gonna study."
[That's not Sara...?]
"Nah, it is Sara. This is Sara Lorojin! It's humiliating, but! I gotta! Study!"
Sara bolted upright in bed, her voice brimming with resolve. Why studying felt like such a disgrace was beside the point—her determination was utterly sincere.
"This won't do! My spot as milord's favorite is in danger!"
[It really is Sara...!]
"Yeah! I gotta show 'em! That Sara Lorojin here has the grit to get it done when she puts her mind to it!"
It hurt her heart. Whenever Lenoir spoke of Joseph with that proud gleam in his eye, an inexplicable gloom settled over her. It wasn't that she disliked Joseph. No, it was Lenoir's fixation on him alone that grated on her.
So she'd hatched a plan. If she threw herself into studying, wouldn't that attention swing back her way? Wouldn't she reclaim her throne as Lenoir's top priority?
In truth, Lenoir had no such intentions, but times when his unwavering constancy truly mattered to Sara were few and far between.
Sara dragged herself out of bed and plopped down at her desk. Then, a sudden realization hit.
"Wait a sec, won't studying without sleep tank my efficiency?"
[Late hour...!]
"Yeah, let's sleep and study fresh tomorrow."
She slipped back under the covers. Eyes shut. That night, Sara dreamed of Lenoir turning his back on her, arm-in-arm with Joseph, leaving her in despair.
* * *
Sara had suddenly taken a burning interest in studying. Witnessing this, Lenoir briefly recalled their odd conversation from the night before, only to shrug it off with a whatever, no big deal.
It was a recent change. The ever-stern and meticulous Lenoir had been subtly influenced by the unpredictable girl named Sara Lorojin. More precisely, he'd learned that nitpicking every little thing just gave him headaches.
In any case, when it came to smarts, Sara was second to none. It took less than three days to blast through the backlog. Once she got going properly, she devoured a whole book's worth in that time.
Her passion deserved praise, and Lenoir was not stingy with rewards.
"You look quite lovely like this. To think you could apply yourself so well."
"Hehe, keep it coming!"
"I'm so proud of you. A true mark of the goddess."
"Ehehehe...!"
Was it alright that he was getting too accustomed to handling Sara this way? A brief moment of self-reflection.
I'm still being influenced.
When the day came for Sara to truly reincarnate as a goddess, draining this water might prove quite the chore. Such thoughts trailed off into worries.
"Milord! Pet my head this time too!"
"...Very well."
Sara beamed, basking in the touch. Lenoir pondered if that smile would endure, what a goddess's awakening truly entailed.
He did have a plan to restore her to divine heights and revive the goddess, but even he couldn't predict the outcome. Despite eons of accumulated knowledge, that was the realm of creator gods. Only they knew their own results. For created beings to speculate was to chase endless, misguided assumptions.
They held that level of absoluteness.
Human Sara Lorojin: a tomboyish, scatterbrained, yet kind and radiant child. Immaculate Fate, the goddess: Lenoir's reason for being, the world's salvation, the greatest existence.
The two refused to mesh. Thus, he couldn't fathom what her blossoming as a goddess might bring.
What if...?
The hypothesis flickered—then he froze.
"Huh? Why'd you stop? I finally finished a whole book today!"
"...No, nothing."
Lenoir felt a pang of dismay at his own halted breath. The goddess's revival, her awakening—it was a mission that must be fulfilled. He, the demigod Lenoir Astirnus, existed for that purpose. To doubt it was unacceptable.
He erased the thought. It was impure.
"Soon you'll be ready for lessons like Joseph's. Join the next general studies class together."
"Ah, so it's a head-on rivalry!? This Sara...!"
"Nonsense."
With a flick of his index finger to her forehead, Sara burst out laughing. "Pfft!"
"It tickles!"
"Of course it tickles."
His mind eased. Only then did Lenoir find a sliver of relief.
* * *
They say when you force yourself into unfamiliar habits, it feels like thorns sprout in your mouth. It was a folksy saying, and much like it, Sara felt a deep exhaustion. More like an impulse, really.
"Ahh~ I wanna do three-card monte~"
[So totally Sara...!]
"I wanna play card games~ Gamble with Uncle Balt and Master~"
Sprawled in the temple's outer garden, half-dead eyes murmuring such things—the reason was obvious. She'd given up her life's joy, the back-alley games, and her street snacking, leaving her listless and fading.
It was utter torment. Like telling a dog to live like a cat, her instincts rebelled. Proper living was starting to wear her down. She could do it if she tried, but... why bother?
"Doesn't anyone get that cramming makes you smart? I just don't wanna... "
Memorizing books got you to the Royal Academy—even a fool knew that. Most who knew but didn't go either lacked the coin or just plain didn't want to.
Sara slumped and writhed. Rolling on the dirt left her filthy as ever. But even that didn't last.
She staggered up, returned to her quarters, washed, changed into fresh clothes, and brushed her hair.
"Ugh, class with Joseph..."
It was a drag, but an unavoidable battle. Wasn't today the day to settle who was truly Lenoir's favorite? She'd memorized quotes just to look more knowledgeable—she'd fight tooth and nail.
Sara shook off the gloom and lethargy. Fine, show a clear gap once, then reward herself with a full day of fun. Plus, heaps of praise from Lenoir.
"Nah, that's not enough. After winning, we go play together!"
[Sara's so cool...!]
"Ahh, you bet! Of course! Ready, Orin!?"
[Yeah...!]
No one else saw it as a rivalry, but Sara marched to class with fierce, battle-ready steps. Her vibe was so charged that passing workers cheered her on with snacks.
Arriving at the classroom, she spotted her lifelong rival. Her eyes widened—
"Ah, Goddess! This humble servant greets his lady!"
"Uh, y-yeah, come on in? Nice to... see you?"
Joseph bowed with bright, eager eyes. Sara had never received such reverent greetings in her life. It threw her off.
"I'm honored to study math with you! I just hope I don't hinder the goddess's learning..."
"H-Hinder? No, it's not... "
"I'll give my all. Please point out my flaws without mercy!"
Trained directly by Lenoir, Joseph's demeanor was exceptional. Even without that, Sara was his lifesaver. She'd pulled him and his father Balt from the brink into this bright new life. Of course he'd be deferential.
By then, Sara felt like the villain.
"Um, uh..."
[Sara...! You're not bad... guh!]
"...H-How's your health? Livin' the good life these days!?"
"Yes! But doesn't the angel have words for you...?"
"Ignore her, she spouts nonsense all the time!"
Sara Lorojin couldn't snap at others—especially not a kid. Her fighting spirit crumbled.
In the end, she wondered: Why am I trying to beat this kid?
Reality hit like a vulgar slap. Joseph's elevating attitude played no small part. She felt like someone grand. Dignified. Magnanimous.
A capping remark amid the swirl of emotions:
"Please teach me much!"
"Uh..."
"Master said the goddess conquered in three days what took me over a week! So don't get arrogant with her!"
"...Milord really said that?"
It hooked her. Her lips twitched to her ears. Shoulders squared. Her mood soared.
Joseph wasn't the enemy. Lenoir had called her the best in front of him. And her battle lust died.
All tangled up, Sara's heart settled. Thinking whatever suited her was one of her few flaws—and sometimes a strength.
Maybe milord just poked my jealousy on purpose?
Definitely. After all, Sara Lorojin was Lenoir's goddess.
Milord can't live without me!
Repeating it inwardly brought a whirlwind of satisfaction. Her heart pounded.
Just then, Lenoir entered. With her mind fully relaxed, Sara gazed at him smugly, like she knew it all.
Lenoir narrowed his eyes.
"...What on earth is that look?"
"Heh heh."
"...Let's begin the lesson."
"Good morning, Master!"
"Indeed."
That easy atmosphere was the problem. That day, Sara lost to Joseph in Q&A. In the end, to his "You went easy on me! Thank you for your mercy!", she smiled pitifully and muttered, "Y-Yeah. Keep at it. That, uh, metaphor? Don't overuse it."
Sara Lorojin had hit the lowest point of her goddess life.