Chapter 355
At that moment, somewhere (contains many illustrations!)
A certain silver-haired holy knight was presenting her ass to the saintess.
"...So, you still haven't figured it out?"
Looking down from the window at the antique buildings evoking a medieval era—far removed from the modern world of some farm—and the people dressed in matching period attire, a red-haired woman spoke.
Behind her, seated on a plush sofa made of beast hide, much like the luxurious solid-wood table prepared for guests,
the woman with sky-blue hair draped in a robe—unlike the redhead—carefully set down her teacup on the table as she replied leisurely.
"Well, it's definitely a spell structure I've seen somewhere before, but I can't quite pin down what it was. It feels familiar... yet not."
"That's not helpful at all! Do you have any idea how much gold the royal family poured into this on your word alone...!"
In contrast to this sky-blue-haired woman or the common folk still clad in medieval wool garments,
the short-haired woman in modern-style suit top and black pants—the princess heir to this grand reception hall, no, the entire castle—Ariel, glared fiercely at the sky-blue-haired woman.
"It's weird, isn't it? I still vividly remember you bragging so confidently when we first contacted you. How much time do you think has passed since then?"
"...Sigh."
No sooner had Ariel finished speaking than buttons popped off one by one, as if echoing her frustration.
But Ariel didn't bother covering herself—even as the buttons rolled across the floor, exposing part of her ample bosom up to her neckline.
She simply shot daggers at the sky-blue-haired woman, who resumed sipping her tea as if she hadn't heard a word, and at the wide-brimmed pointed hat marking her status.
"Surely the master of the Magic Tower, hailed as the Great Sage by all and celebrated for centuries, isn't planning to scam us—ahem—or just pocket the royal funds...!"
Though she tried to maintain decorum, the other woman's attitude was pushing her buttons—perhaps her fiery temper was inevitable, matching her scarlet hair.
The Great Sage with sky-blue hair let out a small sigh at Ariel's impatient display and said,
"I know it. I said it's ambiguous."
"That's what I'm—!"
"Think about it—I've lived for centuries, seen countless Isis royals. If even I find it vague enough to hesitate, doesn't that tell you something?"
"..."
No one knew the true identity of this woman called the Great Sage.
All that was known was her vast, encyclopedic knowledge of magic—enough to seem like she carried a library in her head—her claim of living for centuries,
and the nagging doubt from history books chronicling generations of kings' deeds where she appeared consistently: was she even human?
Thus, Ariel—the Isis Kingdom's princess heir, future queen—as well as her mother, Queen Raipelth, simply accepted her as an ally from ancestral times,
someone who treated highborn and low alike with blunt informality, as if flaunting her longevity.
Ariel, whose red hair mirrored her temperament, seethed inwardly but held back—wondering if even now the Great Sage would spout nonsense.
Still, testing the waters, she asked lowly,
"...Surely it's not that you've finally hit dementia and it's time to kick the bucket."
"..."
Snap—Ariel smirked inwardly at landing a hit, seeing the topaz gleam in the Great Sage's eyes fixed on her, while pondering her words and intent.
And as if reaching her own conclusion,
"Don't tell me it's an ancient spell so old even you have to dig through memories?"
"...Ancient? Sigh... Yeah, pretty much."
Thud. The Great Sage, having set down her teacup, tapped her staff—tall as herself—and a holographic magic circle materialized above her palm.
"What's that?"
"This is a reconstruction from traces left at the scene where the Goddess Church's leader and her right-hand woman vanished recently."
"...You've completed the restoration?"
"About seventy percent. If those fools hadn't panicked, I could've hit ninety."
Not long ago, someone had dropped from the sky into the Goddess Church headquarters, kidnapping Saintess Violet and her Holy Knight Captain Christia before vanishing.
Witnesses who last saw the saintesses claimed they were with some naked thugs, but...
Ariel knew the truth.
Who kidnapped the saintess. What happened there via the crystal orb. Even what her admired friend Eleonora had done—and become.
And at the end, as if to taunt Ariel watching through the orb,
Eleonora had flaunted her naked body, adorned with vulgar piercings on breasts and pussy, unashamed,
boasting of becoming one man's sex slave sow, spreading her legs wide...!
"Hah...!"
"?"
"Ahem, nothing. So, you're struggling to interpret this spell? At seventy percent, it's basically solved..."
"That's only recently hitting seventy. I was heading to my private library for clues when I found an identical trace in the elves' forest..."
"You say 'private hideout' so brazenly... Wait, the elves' forest too?"
The reclusive elves' woods, known for stirring trouble with their man-hunting nonsense whenever they emerged—Eleonora's traces there too?
What the hell is going on? With Eleonora... with this world...!
As Ariel bit her lip, groaning like she harbored unspeakable secrets, the Great Sage—revenge for earlier—quipped,
"Gotta pee? You'll wet your diapers at this rate..."
"Shut up! Why bring that up?! Being old isn't a flex!!"
Face flushed crimson again, Ariel bellowed. Satisfied with her payback, the Great Sage cleared her throat pointedly and said,
"By the way, the Grand Master likely got tangled in this."
"W-what? Eleonora?!"
Like a thief with guilty feet—she'd told no one, not even her mother.
She still half-denied it, but with her friend involved, she didn't want to tarnish Eleonora's name prematurely.
Besides, who could she confide in?
Eleonora—the continent's strongest knight, paragon of loyalty and purity—
of humble war-orphan origins, loved by the masses more than nobles,
parading naked before crowds,
casually flashing pussy and tits, scarred by that barbarian princess, cavorting with some black-haired creep to kidnap the saintess—who'd believe it?
She'd be accused of jealousy, slandering her rival; lucky if the kingdom didn't turn on her.
So Ariel stewed alone—it was inevitable.
"You look like you know something."
"Huh? No, nothing—ahem."
"Suspicious. You know something."
"How would I know?! If I were a magic expert, I'd have pieced it all together by now! Who was there, who ate what—"
"Who was fucking there."
"Right, who was fucking in front of—y-you!!"
Her mind already a mess, and now this teasing?!
Ariel yelled again. The Great Sage, as if sensing trouble, flicked away the magic circle in her hand.
"Anyway, it's not a total blank, so reconstruction won't take forever, but..."
"...But?"
Sensing something, Ariel leaned in.
"Whoever it is, if they strike again targeting someone, they'll likely hit the Christmas Festival."
"The Christmas Festival…?"
The festival commemorating the Goddess's descent—attended by the queen, princess, nobles, and commoners alike, regardless of status, age, or gender. A massive religious event.
"No way. Even they wouldn't strike with that many people..."
But if Eleonora joined the fray?
Urga was headache enough; add Eleonora?
If my guess is right, she'll show up naked like last time—and seeing that, I'll...!
"W-what fantasy is that?! I-I-I would never do something so shameless...!!"
"?"
Suddenly lost in thought, hands on cheeks, writhing—Ariel.
The Great Sage, unfazed, set down her empty cup and donned her wide-brimmed hat from the sofa.
"If these kidnappings are a ploy to grab specific targets, the festival—everyone gathered—is prime."
"...They stormed the church by broad daylight, snatched the saintess and captain, and vanished. Yeah, plausible."
If that lascivious, whore-faced Eleonora beckoned her over, promising to fetch her someday—did that mean this…?
"Then I'm off. Say hi to Raipelth."
"Don't call Her Majesty—the sovereign of this land—so casually! Even if she allows it...!"
Whoosh—!
Before Ariel finished, the Great Sage transformed into a massive crow and soared out the window.
Ariel started yelling but shut her mouth at the receding figure.
"...Night already."
She'd thought little time passed, yet outside, people prepared for bed.
Ariel glanced at the reception room's corner—an ill-fitting coat rack with a barbaric long coat—blushed, then shook her head vigorously.
"...Later. Not now."
Storming out, Ariel strode the corridor—long carpets on floors, walls hung with banners of white lilies on blue.
Unlike dainty noble ladies in dresses, her pants suited her bold stride toward somewhere.
Ahead loomed massive white doors, like eyes proclaiming nobility within.
"Is Her Majesty in? Talks ran long, but I come for evening greetings before bed."
-Her Majesty is—
"Since when do I send notice to visit my own mother?"
Bang—
Ignoring the guard, Ariel flung the doors wide with forceful hands.
Her mother loathed ceremony; visiting family needed no ritual.
Brushing off guards and servants eyeing her roughness, Ariel barged into the queen's bedroom.
The woman on the bed, red-haired in black negligee, gazing at the dimming streets beyond the lamps,
showed no anger at Ariel's intrusion—merely combed back her hair, guessing her purpose.
"Visiting so late—did you find a lead?"
"Yes, just spoke with the Great Sage..."
Even as, somewhere, a silver-haired holy knight trembled her raised ass, semen dripping between her thighs amid humiliations, the world turned on just fine.