Chapter 62: The First Letter (62)
Chapter 62: The First Letter (62)
Though the current trend is toward the elimination of gender discrimination, that was not the case in the past.
The right to succeed to a title was granted only to men, and women were not even properly allowed the freedom of education. This was deeply rooted in a societal structure where men bore the brunt of the sacrifices in a world where a clear enemy—the "demonic beasts"—existed.
Men possessed significantly more physical strength than women. This was not a matter of prejudice, but a simple, clear truth. Thus, men were more frequently conscripted for war or demonic beast subjugation. The same applied to large-scale civil engineering projects for defense.
According to the doctrines of the Heavenly God Religion, facing the demonic beasts—the enemies of humanity—was a mission bestowed by God Himself. Men followed the mission of the Heavenly God Arus, while women could not. Gender discrimination was further solidified through this religious logic.
However, as magic theory and aura cultivation techniques advanced, a shift occurred in that way of thinking.
As long as one possessed mana, they could cast spells powerful enough to sweep away dozens of demonic beasts at once. Physical ability? While physical training was not yet meaningless, the core capacity of a martial artist—strength and reflexes—was now determined by the quantity of one's mana.
Might is power. Regardless of gender, anyone born with mana could become a powerhouse who dominated the battlefield. This was why, in recent times, discussions of "gender discrimination" felt like an outdated discourse.
One only had to look at Senior Delphine. Though she was a woman, she was already recognized as the successor to the prestigious Yurdina family. It was proof that gender did not matter when it came to becoming the head of a house, provided one's skills were exceptional.
Of course, I had heard that things were slightly different in the Holy Kingdom, which was naturally conservative in its interpretation of scripture, or among commoners who could not systematically train their mana. But at the very least, it was not the case among the Imperial nobility.
Even if someone held such views, they usually kept them to themselves. Power was no longer the exclusive domain of men, and no noble, regardless of their status, enjoyed making an enemy of power.
I was the same. I had grown up with Celine since childhood and made many friends of both genders while staying at the Academy.
I thought I had long since parted ways with a sexist worldview. However, an old proverb that came to mind just now was, in fact, quite sexist.
“When three women gather, the dishes break.”
It meant that when three women got together, it would be so noisy that dishes would break, or they would fight so much that the plates would shatter. Either way, the dishes were bound to suffer. Like most proverbs, it was a saying steeped in gendered prejudice.
One only had to look at Seria to know it wasn't true. Whether someone was talkative or quiet was merely a matter of individual personality. Nevertheless, there was a reason I couldn't help but think of that saying.
A chilling silence had settled over the infirmary. The atmosphere was as cold and heavy as the dawn air on the day of the first frost. And this was with only three women gathered.
Celine, Seria, and the Saintess.
They were three women of entirely different colors. Celine was a lower noble of the Empire with a vivacious temperament; Seria was a member of the prestigious Yurdina family but possessed a quiet personality; and the Saintess was a noble cleric of the Holy Kingdom, famous for her benevolent and gentle nature.
The sight of these diverse women remaining silent as if by some unspoken agreement was enough to send a shiver down my spine. I didn't know the reason, but the atmosphere was just like that.
Celine looked a bit flustered. Her amber eyes darted back and forth between me and the Saintess. She seemed unable to grasp the nature of the relationship between us.
To be honest, I couldn't read the expression of the Saintess, who wore her usual benevolent smile. However, it was certain that the smile felt different than usual.
I knew this because Seria’s gaze, meeting that smile, had turned somewhat cold. Though she had ignored Celine until now, the moment the Saintess appeared, Seria naturally stared at her with those aquamarine eyes.
A taut tension hung in the air. It was a precarious atmosphere, as if the slightest movement from any of the three would cause a violent rupture.
The one who broke the chain of silence was, surprisingly, the Saintess. As she always did, she traced the sign of the cross over her supple breasts. Then, her voice flowed out softly.
"Immanuel. It is a pleasure to see you, Brother Ian, and you other sisters. I apologize, but if you are not involved, could you please leave the room for a moment? As the priest in charge, I intend to examine Brother Ian."
It was a reasonable and common-sense request. The air in the infirmary, which had felt like it might crack at any moment, gradually settled. Her words were that irreproachable.
When the priest in charge said she would examine a patient, there was nothing anyone could say against it. Celine looked at the Saintess with a slightly suspicious gaze, but soon let out a sigh and waved her hand.
It was a sign that she would step out for a moment. Considering that she was the reason I had become a patient in the first place, she had little choice.
"I'll be outside for a bit then, Ian. And Saintess, please take good care of him. He is a very precious person to me..."
As she spoke, Celine shot a sidelong glance at the Saintess with her amber eyes. Her attitude was like a fisherman who had just cast a lure. The Saintess merely traced the sign of the cross again in response.
"Of course, Sister. Brother Ian is a special person to me as well."
Her speech was as smooth as flowing water. Even her voice was so level that Celine looked momentarily confused. Celine seemed to hesitate for a second before opening her mouth once more.
"Ian and I grew up together since we were children—"
"...Sister."
With a warm smile, the Saintess lightly placed a hand on the shoulder of Celine, who was about to pass by her.
"Since he is so precious, please make sure he doesn't get hurt."
That was all she said. A crack momentarily appeared on Celine’s face, which had been feigning the look of a worried girl, but the Saintess’s smile did not falter.
Ultimately unable to find anything to say, a small sigh escaped Celine’s lips. She left after leaving behind a single sentence in a slightly grumpy voice.
"...Yes, I will keep that in mind."
With Celine gone, only Seria remained in the room. She was simply staring at the Saintess without a word. The Saintess quietly stepped toward my side.
Then, she subtly turned her pale pink eyes toward Seria. Only then did Seria speak.
"N-Nice to m—! Ugh... I-I am Seria Yurdina. It is an honor to meet you, Saintess."
It seemed she had been silent because she was agonizing over her first greeting to the Saintess. Hearing the greeting, the Saintess let out a soft chuckle.
"Sister Seria, didn't we see each other just the other day? On the day you injured your arm."
"Ah, th-that's true, but..."
Seria was already so nervous she was practically biting her tongue. At the Saintess’s point, her mind seemed to go blank, and she began to stammer again.
Dummy. It seemed she had tried to choose the most standard greeting and made the wrong choice. Given Seria’s lack of social skills, it was a distinct possibility.
I intended to squeeze out some excuse to rescue Seria, but before I could, the Saintess looked at her with a gaze that suggested she understood everything.
"It is a pleasure to see you too, Sister Seria. Let us talk more later; for now, it is time for me to examine Brother Ian..."
However, despite the Saintess’s gentle, soothing tone, Seria did not budge. she stood there hesitating with her head bowed. Wondering if there was some specific reason, both the Saintess and I turned our gazes toward her simultaneously.
Even under those questioning stares, Seria couldn't open her mouth for a long time, before finally speaking with a look of grim determination.
"C-Can I... Ugh... Can I stay?"
The subject was omitted, but it was obvious who she was referring to. Seria was declaring that she would stay in this room.
But why? I tilted my head in confusion, but the Saintess let out a curious "Hmm" while observing Seria.
After appearing to be lost in thought for a moment, the Saintess soon gave a bright smile and asked Seria:
"Are you his fiancée?"
The effect of that short question was instantaneous. Seria practically jumped. Her eyes shook violently in panic.
"F-Fiancée... Th-that's impossible! H-how could someone like me ever be with Senior...!"
"Then, are you in a romantic relationship?"
"N-no. I-it's not like that, but..."
"That is a relief."
I didn't know what was a relief, but the Saintess didn't lose her smile as she said that. She simply uttered one more sentence.
"Then, please leave."
"Ah, ah! Y-yes..."
Seria, who looked like she wanted to protest, realized that her verbal skills wouldn't even make a dent and slumped her shoulders.
And just like that, she dejectedly left the infirmary. Having suppressed both Celine and Seria with just a few words, the Saintess finally let out a deep sigh.
A bitter smile formed on her lips—a smile tinged with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry. I made you wait for no reason. Shall we begin the examination?"
"Uh, Saintess. You didn't really have to send them both out... AAAAGH!"
I tried to ask her cautiously, but the question was never finished. The Saintess’s hand had gripped my arm.
Since my injury hadn't fully healed yet, a scream immediately burst from my lips.
It hurt so much that tears nearly welled in my eyes. The Saintess had never handled an injured area so roughly before. I turned a questioning gaze toward her.
However, the Saintess looked perfectly nonchalant. After hearing my scream, she briefly took on a serious expression, conjured divine power in her hands, and began to nod to herself.
"You've had too many injuries lately. If you suffer another major wound, you might have to prepare for semi-permanent aftereffects."
As she spoke, the Saintess’s eyes were as cold as if she were rebuking me. Unable to say anything, I could only turn my head and reply in an awkward voice.
"I-I see. I should be careful."
"Don't just say it; you must take it seriously. You have a very strong competitive streak, Brother Ian."
I shut my mouth at those words. She was right.
I’d always had that tendency, but since losing my memory, it had spiraled out of control. That grit to chase victory first without regard for my own body.
I didn't even know where it originated. For now, it had brought me many victories, but it was also true that it was putting an immense burden on my body.
The Saintess watched me in silence for a moment before letting out a sigh.
"I'm the same way. I have a strong competitive streak; I can't stand to lose."
"...You, Saintess?"
"Yes. Surprising, isn't it?"
I nodded reflexively. Was she not the incarnation of benevolence and consideration? It was hard for me to understand that such a kind person had a strong competitive streak.
At that, the Saintess gave a wry smile as if she had expected my reaction. She continued in her characteristically soft voice.
"That's why I sent those two out. I was afraid I might... snap."
By "those two," she seemed to mean Celine and Seria. But was there anything to snap at them about?
I didn't voice the question that came to mind. The Saintess surely had her own reasons. As I remained silent, the Saintess’s glowing white hands felt around my wound.
I felt the blood starting to circulate again in my stiff arm. As the nerves regenerated, sensation returned starting from my fingertips.
After a long silence, the Saintess turned her pale pink eyes toward me. My eyes, which had been blankly watching her, met hers head-on.
She was beautiful. Her beauty was enough to evoke admiration every time I saw her. Yet, even while looking at such a beautiful face from so close, I didn't dare harbor any lewd thoughts.
It was because those pale pink eyes gazing at me were sunken deep with gravity. And soon, the Saintess spoke with an air more serious than ever before. It was a low warning.
"Do not participate in the Hunting Festival."
"...Pardon?"
"This is a recommendation I am giving as the priest in charge. If you are thinking of participating in the Hunting Festival, you must stop. Your body, Brother Ian, is already at its limit."
Her stern voice was resolute, as if leaving not a shred of room for argument. I couldn't even part my lips to respond.
Was it really that dangerous? If I participated in the Hunting Festival, I would inevitably face all sorts of dangers. It involved dealing with named-class demonic beasts. A future where I got injured was practically guaranteed.
The Saintess was telling me exactly that. That if I were injured again, I might have to live with semi-permanent aftereffects. Therefore, I must not participate in the Hunting Festival.
Fear suddenly reared its head.
"Semi-permanent aftereffects" was just a polite way of saying a disability. And a disability, no matter how minor, would have a profound impact on one's ability to hold a sword.
The human body was like a precision machine, and a swordsman's body was particularly sensitive.
If even the smallest part began to creak, the balance of the entire body would inevitably be shaken. The Saintess seemed to read that fear of mine.
Wearing a worried expression, she took my hand in both of hers. They were warm and soft. The touch of a woman's hand, meeting mine for the first time, conveyed her sincerity through that warmth.
"...It's a promise, Brother Ian."
That pleading gaze and voice—what man could possibly refuse?
I could only answer with a slightly choked throat.
"Yes, Saintess."
And so, tracing the sign of the cross with the Saintess, I made a silent promise. A vow between the two of us. Only then did the Saintess show a benevolent smile, as if relieved.
* * *
And the next day, I submitted my application for the Hunting Festival.
Bowing my head in my mind over and over again.
I'm sorry, Saintess.
But I suppose I have to save the world first.