Secret Conclave
Clara had boasted an overwhelming amount of S+ rank mana since childhood. Under the strict management of the Lumeun family, she had nurtured it to enormous proportions. These days, one could say she was a lump of divine power in human form. Recovery magic didn't work on her, but her body's natural regeneration was extraordinarily potent. After resting in the infirmary for about thirty minutes, her sprained ankle snapped right back into place. Thanks to that, Clara could return to the dormitory in no time.
It was a relief. This much wouldn't disrupt the schedule of the "perfect saintess."
"Yes... I have to go back to being the perfect saintess again."
Clara murmured softly to herself as she clasped her hands in front of her and walked demurely. The posture that had always felt natural now seemed unbearably uncomfortable. Why? She already knew the answer without needing to ask.
"That was the first time I ever spoke my true feelings."
When she'd confided her heart to Lily, an inexplicable sense of liberation had washed over her. It felt like shedding the suffocating mask she'd worn her whole life. The relief of setting down the hatred that had been boiling over inside her. And a fluttering excitement, like wanting to draw just a little closer. To give something only to take it away—that was the cruelest thing of all. Asking her to don the mask again while cherishing a heart that had once been set free was far too harsh.
Maybe that's why. Deep down, Clara found herself looking forward to the practical exam.
The practical exam would be just the two of them. No attendants from the Holy Kingdom trailing her, no priests, no overseers. Perfect, unadulterated freedom.
"Then... we can talk a little closer, right?"
She whispered in a voice no one else could hear, a faint smile gracing her lips. Not the fake smile she'd practiced since age five, but one laced with genuine feeling.
Clara's smile didn't last long.
"Saintess, have you returned?"
"Captain of the Guard?"
The guard captain, who usually stood watch inside the parlor, was out front. There was only one reason he'd come outside: an important guest inside. And at this hour, there was only one "important guest" who might visit.
"Minor Duke Ian of the Eastern Union Kingdom is waiting."
Clara fought to keep her expression from hardening. Ian Vermonth was the last person she wanted to see right now.
"Ahem."
She straightened her attire and stepped into the parlor. Inside sat a brown-haired pretty boy in a slouched posture. Clara couldn't help but furrow her brow slightly as she asked,
"What brings you here in the middle of the day, Minor Duke?"
"Ah, there you are."
Ian Vermonth's words were just as expected. Nordenburk had chosen betrayal. But even if we gathered just among ourselves, we could oust that professor and fight over Lily. In the past, she might have listened to the proposal. When she'd first received an alliance offer, she'd viewed it quite positively.
"So, what do you think, Saintess?"
"..."
"If we get rid of that detestable professor, you can do whatever you want with that girl you hate?"
A proposal she once would have gladly accepted now felt utterly repulsive. Why? Lily clenched her fist in secret but kept her voice steady.
"The owner of the Olive Wand, Lady Olivia, said that both Professor Ria and the new owner of the Olive Wand would prove themselves. She advised to suspect but not condemn."
"Wait, why bring her up all of a sudden..."
"Hearing that changed my mind."
She wanted to reject him outright. But the Holy Kingdom was trying to ally with the Southern Union Kingdom. Acting rashly could spark a diplomatic incident. And if that happened... she might get summoned back and confined again.
"Scripture [10:17]—'Do not carelessly slander or condemn others.' In accordance with the Goddess's teachings, we'll watch those two for a bit."
And so, Clara carefully toed the line between outright rejection and deferral.
"Since they say they'll prove themselves, how about we wait until after the practical exam?"
"What? You clearly agreed with us back then!"
"To be precise, I said I'd 'consider it positively.'"
Of course, both of them knew that "considering it positively" was practically acceptance. Denying it now was like covering one's eyes and crying wolf. But... the fact that she had "never actually agreed" tied Ian's hands for the moment.
"Hah, playing hardball, are you?"
The scripture warned against rejoicing in others' misfortune. She'd worked so hard to live by it, yet seeing Ian Vermonth's rotting expression made her feel inexplicably good.
'Quoting scripture while breaking it... yeah, maybe I'm a bit too flawed to be a saintess.'
Clara chuckled self-deprecatingly to herself.
In her student record, Lily was the epitome of a model student. Never late, never absent, even casting recovery magic on herself when sick to bury herself in studies—a girl brimming with determination. Wasn't it natural for a professor to wonder why such a child was late to her class?
So the moment Lily arrived at the faculty office for makeup lessons, Ria asked,
"What happened today?"
"Well, there was this thing..."
Lily explained the hallway incident. Hearing the full story, Ria felt proud of her. Lily was mature for her age, but still just an eighteen-year-old girl. It would be normal to dislike someone badmouthing her outright, yet she'd handled it so adult-like.
"Come here, Lily."
"Yes."
Ria drew Lily's head closer and stroked her hair.
"I'm impressed. Even though she badmouthed you, you handled it so maturely."
"Eek, no... I just... felt some inexplicable kinship with her. I couldn't leave her like that, so I helped a little."
"That's what people call a good person."
Helping someone who insulted you at the cost of your own reputation wasn't easy. It warmed Ria's heart to think the Olive Wand had found the right owner.
"And personally, I'm grateful to you too."
Closing the distance with the saintess didn't just mean a personal bond between her and Lily.
"It made sorting out the factions a lot easier."
The world still denied the Maou's revival, but Ria knew better—the creator of the Fallen Apple Wand, the Maou himself. The Maou would return without fail. Until then, she had to stabilize the academy and prepare the students. In that regard, Lily and the saintess's relationship held great significance. It turned a 3-against-1 disadvantage into a fair 2-against-2.
Her disciple's good deed had boomeranged back to help her. How touching.
"Well, that's only if we prove ourselves on practical exam day."
The real turning point was the practical exam. Crush the Second Prince and Eastern Union Kingdom's momentum there, and they could move to the next phase. Half the academy's students were Empire-aligned—natural, since it was on Empire soil. Toppling the Second Prince's faction came last. She didn't expect to crush him and the Empire side in the practical. For now, pulling the saintess and Holy Kingdom to their side and shaking the Union Kingdom would suffice. Winning the Union over came later.
What? How to "reform" that guy Ian into an ally?
"Do I have to...?"
There were plenty of ways to make someone obey. Reformation was just one tool; if needed, she'd use others. But first, proof in the practical.
"Anyway, let's prep for the practical. You're a bit late."
"Ah, yes."
As Ria recalled the last lesson and prepared to start, a tinkling sound echoed from the window—like something lightly tapping the glass repeatedly. Too light for a person. Turning to the window, she saw a tiny bird. Not a living one, but a spirit-like entity made of pale green particles in bird form.
How did she know? Elves often used bird-shaped spirits for long-distance communication.
Opening the window, the sparrow-shaped spirit fluttered onto the desk.
"...Lily, sorry, but class ends here today."
"Pardon?"
"Something came up with the principal."
Sylvia had said she'd contact her if needed. And Sylvia never made empty promises.
[Sister, I need your help]
[Strong evidence presumed to be Maou's trace discovered]
[Teleport to the coordinates below]
Just as expected—bad omens never missed. The moment she sent Lily off, the sparrow melted away, forming letters on the desk.