An Invitation From the Saintess
Israfil sat with her eyes closed, a serene smile resting on her lips.
Maybe it was because the meeting was so unexpected, but Simon felt nothing but joy—every other question could wait.
Still deliberating over how to greet her, Simon straightened his posture slightly.
"Gratula mi kibilis. It's been a while, Lady Israfil."
The formal greeting reserved for Saintesses and high-ranking Priests. Of course, this was the Dark Alliance, so it wasn't strictly necessary—but it felt right.
"Ah."
Israfil was clearly touched.
Sometimes, nothing more than simple courtesy and respect for the other person was enough to win an enormous amount of goodwill.
Blooming like a flower in full blossom, she rose from her seat and spread both arms wide.
"Come here, Simon!"
"Lady Israfil!"
The two of them embraced in a long-awaited reunion hug. For a Saintess to make physical contact with anyone was itself a grave transgression in the Holy Federation, yet Israfil answered boldness with ever greater boldness.
She was remarkably tall. Simon still had some growing left to do, but she towered well over him. She ran her hand lightly through his hair.
"Simon!"
Simon's mother Anna poked her head out from the kitchen, where she was always to be found.
This time it was the two of them who hugged. A sweet smell of apple pie drifted from her apron.
"You must be starving. Sit down, sweetheart! I worked my fingers to the bone on tonight's dinner!"
"Yes, Mom!"
Truthfully, Simon had missed home cooking more than anything.
And so the four of them gathered around the table, chatting comfortably as they enjoyed their dinner.
Savoring Anna's tomato omelette—something he hadn't tasted in ages, and something that existed nowhere else in the world—Simon felt a deep, quiet happiness.
Israfil and Anna giggled and chattered away like old friends, while Richard, too busy reading Israfil's moods, didn't dare join the conversation.
The two of them apparently didn't have the most comfortable relationship.
"By the way, how did you come all the way out here, Lady Israfil?"
Simon asked quietly.
They were sitting around a table enjoying a peaceful moment, but from Kizen's perspective, this picture was an unprecedented, catastrophic emergency. An actual Saintess of Ephnel had penetrated deep into Alliance territory. It would hardly have been strange if Crows from across the nation came swarming in, foaming at the mouth.
"I employed a somewhat troublesome little trick."
With that, she touched the black choker around her neck.
"It's an artifact that seals a Saintess's power. While I'm wearing it, I'm invisible to the Dark Alliance's detection."
"B-But isn't it far too dangerous to seal your power? We're deep in enemy territory..."
"I'll be just fine."
She swept her slender arms around Anna's and Simon's backs.
"My beloved sister and nephew will protect me. Won't you?"
"O-Of course!"
Simon declared, thrusting a fist into the air. Anna smiled sweetly.
But notably, Israfil had left out the strongest combat asset in the room: Richard.
Richard simply laughed it off with practiced ease. Was this his way of accepting his due treatment as only natural? In any case, he kept a careful eye on her, cautious in every move he made.
Lethe and Lady Israfil both. Neither of them seems to like Father much.
Still, it wasn't as openly hostile as it had been with Lethe. Israfil occasionally cracked jokes at Richard too, and every time she did, Simon and Anna would burst out laughing in response.
They both secretly hoped the two would warm up to each other, little by little.
And so the meal came to an end.
"I'm glad I braved the danger and came to the Dark Alliance. It's been so long since I've felt a family atmosphere like this."
Israfil said as she dabbed her lips with elegant grace.
"Was it tasty?"
"Yes, sister."
Israfil's eyes, always closed, fluttered partway open, revealing pitch-black pupils that evoked the abyss itself.
"So delicious I could kidnap you back to the Federation and eat this every single day."
"Ohohoho! Honestly, you~"
From Anna's standpoint, it was the highest praise imaginable, and she blushed, fidgeting shyly. Richard, meanwhile, was wiping away rivers of sweat and avoiding her gaze.
"Just kidding, of course."
Israfil's eyes slid shut again, and she flashed Simon a warm, eye-crinkling smile.
"Now then, brother-in-law."
Richard gave a cough. Ahem. And once more radiated his patriarchal gravity.
"Perhaps it's time you told Simon about your proposal."
"You're right, brother-in-law."
Israfil turned her body and looked Simon straight in the eye. Such was her composed, impeccable bearing that Simon tensed up and corrected his own slouched posture.
"Lady Israfil. What sort of proposal—"
"Simon, I have a favor to ask of you."
Simon's eyes went wide with astonishment. A request from a Saintess! And from me, of all people?
Israfil tilted her head back, eyes still closed.
"I sense a great evil in the far north of the continent. The closer one gets to the Holy Federation, the more distinct it becomes."
In the northern reaches of the Holy Federation lay a place called the Kinver Region, a land of perpetual snow. Israfil explained that a great evil was growing stronger and stronger there.
"I went to vanquish it myself—but I failed. Because that evil was held fast behind a seal."
Her closed eyes turned toward Simon.
"And to break that seal, both Divinity and Jet-Black are required."
"...Ah."
"Among the necromancers I know, there is exactly one person who can travel freely through the Holy Federation while concealing his identity and slipping past the Inquisitors."
For Israfil to lay it out that plainly.
Somehow, the weight of it settled onto his shoulders.
"One day, this evil will cross the Holy Federation and reach the Dark Alliance. It will threaten the entire continent. Simon, please accept my request. I want that evil stopped before the problem grows any larger."
Simon rested his chin on his hand, his expression considerably more serious now.
"Hmm. This 'evil' of yours is a little abstract, though."
"You'll understand the moment you see it for yourself. I'll assign you an excellent guide."
...Hmmm.
Truthfully, from Simon's standpoint, it wasn't a bad offer at all.
First, if he spent the holiday in the Holy Federation, he could completely escape Magnus's pursuit and threats. He'd been planning to leave Leshill after only a few days at home anyway.
Second, Simon spent the vast majority of his time at Kizen. The Holy Federation would be the perfect opportunity to train his white magic and Divinity.
Jet-Black and Divinity. Only by growing stronger in both could his original technique, Chaos, grow stronger as well.
And third, he owed Israfil his mother Anna's life. That was a debt that absolutely had to be repaid.
"All right."
After some deliberation, Simon nodded.
"You risked your life to come all the way to the Dark Alliance to ask. I couldn't possibly pretend I didn't hear you. I'll take the job."
Israfil covered her mouth in surprise.
"We haven't even discussed your payment yet."
"Huh? Ah, haha! R-Right, of course!"
If anything, that reaction seemed to rocket Israfil's fondness for him even higher. Her head turned toward Richard.
"Brother-in-law."
"Yes, sister-in-law."
She smiled sweetly.
"...Honestly. I suppose I have no choice but to acknowledge you."
Richard laughed heartily and brushed it off as if it were nothing—while enthusiastically giving Simon a blazing thumbs-up behind his back.
"Simon, I hear from Lethe that you have a talent for Divine Beast Studies?"
Simon scratched his ear, a little embarrassed.
"I can't say whether I have talent or not, but Divine Beast Studies is my favorite."
"If you take this mission, I'll pay you a reward of ten thousand gold. And as a gift, I'll give you a supreme-grade, Divine Beast-exclusive artifact—something that can never be obtained in the Dark Alliance."
Ten thousand gold!!
And on top of that, a Divine Beast-exclusive artifact obtainable only in the Holy Federation!
This was non-negotiable. Simon sprang to his feet.
"Leave it to me—I'll give it everything I have!"
Night had fallen, and darkness settled over the house.
-Meow! Meow!
-Nyaa!
When Israfil asked, on a whim, what kind of divine beast Simon had, he brought Whitey and Blacky out of his holy subspace to show her.
"They're adorable!"
The former Saintess of Miracles and the current Saintess of the Divine Sea were sitting on the floor in their pajamas, cooing over the kittens' antics.
When Anna dangled a charm from a string and waved it back and forth, the kittens raised their darling little paws, hunting instincts on full display. Shrill little mews rang out one after another.
Simon, returning from doing the dishes, watched the scene and smiled faintly.
So that's what Dad meant about Mom going back to her girlhood.
Anna and Israfil had even graduated from Ephnel together—they were closer than anyone.
Richard, meanwhile, was cleaning up the cat hair scattered across the floor. He let out a long sigh.
"They shed a lot, don't they. Once your mother and sister-in-law are done playing with them, put them straight back in that holy subspace of yours."
"You don't want to come see them, Father?"
"I have no interest whatsoever in any animal that isn't human."
The very next morning after he said that.
Richard was flat on the floor, dangling a toy to catch the kittens' attention, when he looked up and met Simon's eyes as he came downstairs for a drink of water.
"..."
"..."
-Meooow!
The kittens turned their backs on Richard and came bounding over to Simon.
Two days later.
Simon departed for the Holy Federation alongside Israfil.
He'd been told an ultra-long-range teleportation circle had been prepared, so he assumed they would zip across the continent and wake up in the Holy Federation.
Rattle, rattle.
Reality and ideals turned out to be very different things.
"..."
The creak of wagon wheels, the shouts of merchants hawking their wares. Inside a narrow, dark, swaying crate, Simon and Israfil stood pressed against each other in an extremely confined space, facing one another.
I've been through this situation somewhere before!
Sweat trickled down the back of Simon's neck.
Worse, they were standing in a position where each of their legs was wedged between the other's, built for enduring the long haul. One wrong movement here, and in the worst case, their knees could come dangerously close to certain regions of the other's anatomy.
Every time the wagon wheels hit a rock or root and jolted up and down, Simon's heart lurched right along with them.
And yet even in this situation, Israfil's beauty didn't dim in the slightest. From her pressed-close body drifted a faint scent of sea breeze and resort air.
Simon, who had been straining his gaze elsewhere, opened his eyes.
Israfil was staring straight at him. When she flashed a playful, eye-crinkling smile, Simon's face went red and he whipped his head away—and heard a small trickle of quiet laughter from her.
"...L-Lady Israfil."
"Yes~?"
"You're a Saintess. Does it really have to be like this?"
Sneaking across the border inside a wooden crate in a merchant's cargo wagon. Simon had done it a few times before, and it was grueling, exhausting work every time.
She gave a soft chuckle.
"We can't afford to be discovered by the Holy Federation's side, you see."
"..."
"Coming in, I rode exactly the same way—stowed in a cargo wagon, just like this."
They were transporting a Saintess crammed into a cargo box.
If any of the merchants moving this wagon happened to be a Deva-faith believer, the guilt and the sacrilege of it might well drive them to end their own lives.
"Looks like we'll be passing through the Holy Gate soon."
The Holy Gate at the border of the Holy Federation.
The checkpoint that screened out tainted goods and necromancers in hiding.
Israfil reached out her arms.
"I'll protect you, my dear nephew."
And then she pulled Simon into a tight embrace.
A gentle wash of Divinity spread from her body and enveloped him. Simon's face flushed so hot with embarrassment he thought he might die.
"Oh."
Then he heard Israfil's small voice.
"Please don't hold me too tightly. Strictly speaking, Simon and I share not a single drop of blood, you know."
"!!!"
The moment Simon's face flared crimson, he felt them pass through the Holy Gate.
Only then did Israfil release him.
"Just kidding, of course."
One more joke like that and he was going to actually die.
As Simon stood there with his soul visibly leaving his body, Israfil chuckled like a mischievous elder.
"Um... Lady Israfil."
Feeling that the silence would only grow more awkward, Simon forced himself to speak.
"That guide you said would be coming with me—who is it?"
Israfil smiled sweetly.
"Curious, are we?"
"A-Achoo!"
A girl with a half-asleep expression sneezed. The servant brushing her snow-white hair chuckled.
"What's the matter, Saintess Lethe?"
The girl blinked, looking sheepish.
"...Ah, hm. I don't really know, I guess. Feels like I might've caught a cold."
The servant burst out laughing. Ohohoho!
"Since when does a Saintess catch a cold? Honestly, what a joke."