An Overdue Reunion
It was far too bitter a chill to linger outside, so we were ushered into the warmth of the estate.
At a glance, the men stationed here looked like ordinary soldiers, but every last one was a hardened veteran among veterans—men who had tenaciously clung to life in the Demonic Realm, beating back demonic beasts day after day. Perhaps intimidated by the oppressive aura rolling off them, most of the students looked thoroughly cowed. And more than anything else…
These old guys have seriously terrifying mugs.
For me, perceiving the world through Divine Power Detection meant that a scarred, menacing face did nothing to rattle my nerves. In an odd way, blindness offered a distinct advantage: it allowed me to assess any situation with unflinching, ice-cold composure. The primal instinct of visual fear simply didn't exist for me.
Naturally, if my holy power ever ran completely dry and plunged me into absolute sensory void, even I would feel a prickle of dread. But then again, it wasn't as though I could die anyway… and whatever horrific ordeal befell me would bring far more masochistic ecstasy than misery.
“[Mmm…]”
There was, however, a slight complication. Or perhaps calling it a problem was missing the mark.
As I'd mentioned before, I was on remarkably good terms with the garrison here—or rather, their sentiment toward me bordered on devout worship. Consequently, while the other students were assigned standard quarters inside the manor, I alone had been summoned away.
The motive wasn't hard to guess. Aside from catching up after two long years apart, there were countless people desperate just to lay eyes on me. Though I hadn't said a word earlier, the drifting thought waves in the air were practically overflowing with men pleading for a chance to speak with me in private. And on top of that…
Why does everyone keep trying to pat my head…?
They doted on me to a bizarre degree. True, even I had to admit that my doll-like exterior was undeniably adorable, but considering the spectacles I'd put on during my time in the Demonic Realm, finding me "cute" should have been a tall order. If you spent years watching a fragile, porcelain-skinned girl repeatedly burn her own flesh and shatter her bones just to mend your wounds, could you honestly look at her and think, Aw, how precious?
Crushing demonic beasts in this frozen hell must have scrambled their wits. It was a pity psychiatric care fell outside my repertoire; even if I wanted to patch up their heads, I didn't have the tools for it.
The chamber I sat in was labeled a reception parlor, but in truth, it was Uncle Valencia's private office. I'd been told to wait here, so wait I did. Guiding a flock of students exhausted from the grueling journey undoubtedly took time. On top of that, he likely had matters to discuss with Arhen. With so much on his plate, a lengthy delay was only natural.
Just as I was sitting in tranquil silence, the heavy door rattled open, and someone burst inside.
Hm… Huh?
“Aria?”
Now, about why I called Valencia "uncle"…
Judging purely by appearance, there was no earthly reason to call him an uncle at all. He looked remarkably youthful—a tall, sharp-featured, breathtakingly handsome man in his early twenties would be the most accurate description. Yet, despite that youthful veneer, he possessed something quite unexpected.
“It really is you, Aria!”
A daughter.
Though calling her a "little girl" felt inaccurate, given that she was actually older than me—a young noble lady right in the bloom of youth. The moment the white-haired girl laid eyes on me, her gaze widened with pure delight, and she came dashing across the carpet with rapid, pitter-pattering steps. Perhaps because my physical shell appeared so small, she assumed she was the elder of us two and perpetually insisted that I address her as "big sister."
Still…
Am I actually younger than her?
Come to think of it, I don't even know how old I am…
Reuniting with Lucia after all this time brought that sudden curiosity to the surface. Everyone took me at face value based on my appearance, but the true chronological age of this vessel remained a mystery even to me. It had been over two and a half years since I awoke in the body of this girl named Aria, yet the flesh hadn't aged a single day, making it impossible to tell.
Well, that was almost certainly the work of the Saint's Authority of Healing. It wasn't worth agonizing over anyway, and watching her puff out her chest in an earnest attempt to play the doting older sister was undeniably endearing, so I simply rolled with it.
Naturally, having such a well-mannered daughter meant that Valencia had once been happily married to a lovely wife. By all accounts, however, her constitution had been frail, and she passed away shortly after bringing Lucia into the world. She had departed far too long ago for my miracle to reach her.
Moments like these always served as a quiet reminder: this Authority of Healing was far from omnipotent. It appeared miraculous only because I was the one bearing the agony; in reality, it was riddled with brutal caveats. Then again, bestowing the power to defy death without consequence or cost would be utterly absurd. Most saints wouldn't even manage to wield it the way I did. There was a reason people revered me as the Saint of Devotion and the Saint of Miracles.
At any rate, it had been far too long, and I was genuinely fond of Lucia.
“[Ah… Sister Lucia, it has been quite some time~]”
“Ugh… Don't be so stiff with that 'Sister' business! You know you can just call me Big Sister…”
“[My apologies. It has become something of an ingrained habit.]”
I had to uphold my concept. Even if I allowed a glimpse of naive innocence to slip through, anchoring my behavior in the dignity of a saint created a contrast that made the charm all the more potent. A holy maiden who bore unimaginable suffering, sacrificed her very flesh for others, and triumphed over grueling tribulations, yet remained perpetually gentle, compassionate, and bright…
Reflecting on it now, does such a saint even exist in reality? Is my roleplay really holding up?
“Hey, Aria~”
“[Ah… yes?]”
“What's got you thinking so hard? We haven't seen each other in forever…”
“[Forgive me… My thoughts drifted for a fleeting moment…]”
“Hmph…”
Uh-oh.
Looks like I'd managed to upset her. Once Lucia started pouting, coaxing her out of it was no easy feat. Guess I had no choice.
“[I am terribly sorry. Big Sister Lucia… won't you forgive me just this once?]”
At my words, Lucia—who had turned her head away in an exaggerated huff—stiffened visibly. A flush of radiant joy crept across her cheeks.
“B-Big… S-Say that again!”
Mmm.
Sorry, but that service is strictly one-time-only.
“[As long as you accept my apology, as many times as you wish~]”
“Ah…! T-That's… uuuugh…”
Wrestling fiercely with the dilemma, she fell into an agonized silence. And then…
“Fine, I accept your apology…”
In the end, hearing herself addressed as "Big Sister" was far too intoxicating a prize to forfeit. Understandable, considering that over the two years we'd spent together, the instances I'd indulged her could be counted on one hand. To begin with, I never went around calling anyone "big brother" or "big sister."
Addressing a woman as a sister was one thing, but calling another grown man "brother" in that affectionate, subservient way made my former male gamer soul cringe, which was why I adamantly clung to formal religious honorifics. Not that that was the sole reason… but the long and short of it was that departing from my formal register was an extraordinary event.
“[Thank you, Big Sister Lucia.]”
Never mind that mentally, I'm decades older than you.
Beside herself with glee, Lucia let out a bright cheer, a triumphant grin spreading from ear to ear. Did she realize that acting like that only made her seem younger? Probably not.
At any rate, roughly half an hour slipped by as we chatted away and caught up on old times. Suddenly, the ripple of footsteps approaching the hallway registered against my awareness.
Wait…
Two people?
Why were two people heading straight for this room? If it were just any pair of ordinary guards, I would have paid it no mind, but my Divine Power Detection was sharp enough to outline the distinct presence of whoever stood beyond the wooden walls. One of them was obviously Uncle Valencia…
And the other…?
Arhen Isis?
What was the Headmaster doing here?
While I was still reeling in bewilderment, the footsteps halted outside, and the door slid open with a quiet rattle.
“Aria, are you within?”
He called out my name the instant he crossed the threshold. Did they have something urgent to discuss? Better respond first.
“[Ah… yes?]”
“You are here. Forgive me for making you wait so long.”
“[Not at all. Reuniting with Lucia and catching up was a delight.]”
“…I am glad to hear that. I regret interrupting your pleasant reunion… but if you have a moment, might we speak privately?”
Uh…
Wasn't having a talk the whole reason you summoned me here in the first place?
“[Of course, whenever you are ready.]”
“She has granted permission. Enter.”
“Pardon the intrusion.”
Arhen stepped into the study and turned her gaze toward me. The look upon her face was…
Stiff?
What's gotten into her? Could it be…
No, there's no way, right?
Had she already deduced that another catastrophe was slated to erupt during this Demonic Realm field trip…?
No, that was impossible.
Unless she had met with the bear beastmen and interrogated them directly, there was no way she could have caught wind of it. After all, they were the only ones who knew the seal holding that abominable beast was on the verge of shattering.