Chapter 212
Chapter 212
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 212
Chapter Title: An Intricate and Grand Long-Term Plan
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Above all else, what I needed was love advice from a true romance expert.
I had to figure out how to coax Yuna, who was sulking and avoiding me; get closer to Yuri; and map out our date spots in advance if we wanted to look forward to that thrilling outing in the holy city.
To begin with, I had no idea how to even go about dating. The very concept was starting to shatter my psyche. It was vague and daunting. All I knew was that dating meant becoming your girlfriend's pack mule...
But Bennett was different, wasn't he?
I'd twisted the wording a bit in the letter to guard against interception, but I didn't think he'd miss the point. After all, Niore—with her terrifying powers of observation—was by his side.
Beyond the letter's contents, I'd left other clues too. The wax seal's shape, my handwriting... Considering her eyes, my sincerity would surely reach him. That's what I believed.
Tara and Niore entered.
"Got your message, Bennett. The professor... is here too, huh. Things were weirdly chaotic outside—was that his doing?"
[They called it Theseus's Ship. Sounded like an ideology to check the cardinal faction's power. Did Priest Dakiten blow it up?]
"Both right. A mage coined the concept, and Priest Dakiten used it as kindling to spread it far and wide."
Pingbalrez, who'd stormed out, returned.
"Where've you been, leaving the kid behind?"
"Had an urgent matter. Second Prince... is visiting the city. Details later. But weren't you the one who ignored orders to stay put in the corner?"
"Fair enough."
I could picture the Evil God-chan sulking about how she'd never run into Bennett in this huge city. Lately, she'd been showing more childish streaks.
Even as people gathered and the mood turned serious for a proper meeting, I wasn't worried.
No desire to film Hostage Drama Season 2 in front of Tara and Niore, so I'd taken precautions with Evil God-chan: chat muted, avatar manually hidden.
"...What's that on the professor's lap? A ghost wrapped in a cloth?"
"Tara, it'll just complicate things if you know—ignore it for now. You too, Niore. We'll talk later."
In the letter, I'd laid out a deal for Bennett.
I'll solve your problem, so solve mine. Even if he missed everything else, that part was crystal clear—he'd get it.
So once things settled, he'd hear me out and gift me some solid advice. That's what I trusted.
Worst case, if the letter's meaning somehow didn't land, no big deal. I could just slip it in slyly when we were alone.
With that, I relaxed into observer mode, slouching in my chair.
But the situation started veering off in a different direction from what I'd expected.
This was the Reformists' secret hideout. It masqueraded as a rundown, shuttered inn—felt straight out of a resistance tale.
The decor screamed underdog vibes. Throw in some beer mugs, and it'd be perfect.
Gathered were:
Bennett's Reformist party of three, plus the traveling priest.
The mad mage party of three—minus Yuna—plus the Northern Lady.
"Everyone's here, so let's kick off the real meeting. Start with the Reformists' situation. You might already know, but..."
"Explaining for the mage, I suppose. That odd insight before joining... Is he signing on as our strategist?"
Bennett straightened up to lead, but the traveling priest seemed quite intrigued (or suspicious) by me and asked him.
There was some trust and understanding between Bennett's group and me, but not him. Natural to wonder.
Bennett firmly separated the Reformists from me.
"No. He's got his own plans. Not the type to serve under anyone—we use each other to reach our goals... Or think of it as the wind filling our sails."
"Muddled metaphor. Loose alliance? Or backer in the shadows?"
"Best not to overthink that mage. Whatever he schemes, it'll end up in his palm. Treat it like a force of nature."
"Hmm..."
The traveling priest eyed me, curiosity masking wariness. Saw me as his type—politics and intrigue specialist.
I started to retort to Bennett's high praise but just smirked mysteriously instead. From his view, it made sense.
Saying 'no big deal' now would look lame.
Plus, I'm the professor. Gotta look cool for the students. I even rehearse lines for class.
If they see me as some suave schemer on their own, great!
"Per the cardinal faction's announcement, the Hero Selection Tournament splits into two stages: selecting hero candidates and the holy sword's choice."
"Candidates via tournament. Prelims survivors duel to pick a few. They get to try pulling the holy sword."
"The one chosen by the sword becomes this era's hero. Questions?"
So how many candidates from the 'hero selection' tournament? Ten? Unlimited rounds till ten left?
"Four groups, two from each."
"Drawn from the goddess faith's core virtues: Courage, Faithfulness, Immutability, Obedience—making four groups."
Got it.
Total eight pull the holy sword... Sounds like no one can actually draw it.
"Since the last hero died a century ago, the sword hasn't chosen another. Stuck deep in the rock before the goddess statue, immovable by anyone since."
"I got to touch it after becoming saintess. Felt fused to the rock—no budge."
Excalibur, basically.
[So this tournament's to sift out people worthy of the sword's choice...?]
"As if it'd be that pure. There's gotta be some scheme—definitely."
Tara gnashed her teeth. She believed the goddess faith's elite—cardinal faction—had ulterior motives for this event.
And the 'hero' who draws the sword gains sway over Saintess Tara. That's the setup.
Something off here.
The cardinal faction looks like classic corrupt clergy. No way they'd host a tournament handing out holy sword pulls for free.
If Bennett somehow draws it, hero prestige would dice them up.
Even if not him—say a royalist knight becomes hero—they'd struggle holding religious power.
Simply put: the faction's dead certain their pick becomes hero 100%.
"Tournament's rigged. Bribe every participant?!"
[Not practical. Costs a fortune, and plenty can't be bought. Hero spot's on the line?]
"If their guy Benjamin's transcendence-level powerhouse, it fits. But doubt a punk like that's reached it."
They figured foul play in candidate selection.
Makes sense. Sword picks hero via the great goddess in the heavens. Humans can't fool divine will.
But I know: goddess is massive mechanism nearing total breakdown—and factions might exploit her.
If cardinals interfere with the goddess, puzzle fits.
They can afford eight candidates if they control the pick. Bigger stage, better.
Need the hype. Hero born amid world's gaze and blessings gains authority sans deeds.
I spoke up.
"One question, priest."
"...Yes. I'll answer honestly within my knowledge. What intrigues you?"
"As former cardinal... Any sacred relics passed down to the top brass? Maybe with a line like 'Use this to commune with the goddess'?"
"...How do you know that?"
Shock and suspicion blazed in the priest's eyes. Knew something secret—thought I was a cardinal plant.
Bennett clapped his shoulder like he got it.
"Told you, Priest Dakiten. Force of nature."
"But this can't leak outside—"
"Mage, okay to spill?"
Whatever. Go ahead. Bennett shared the 'shocking truth' gravely, like revealing world's secrets.
"He's a dimensional magic master, collaborating intimately with another realm's goddess. Practically a divine apostle—no wonder he knows godly secrets."
"Dimensional magic... and other world's hero... really?"
"......"
"......"
Pingbalrez's face twitched faintly—imperceptible to others, but I knew her well. She was dying laughing.
The cloth-wrapped Evil God-chan on my lap switched to manners mode. Felt her quivering.
I slipped a hand under quietly. Pingbalrez might hold it, but you don't laugh, punk. Jabs everywhere shut manners mode off.
"I see. Then your odd trust and optimism in that mage... makes sense. Since you know, I'll tell."
"Mm."
"The faith has the 'Crystal of Glass,' a relic said carved by the goddess herself. Grants direct communion with the heavens. Only pope, saintess, hero can wield."
"...It does that?! No one told me!"
Amid it, ditzy saintess gaped wide-eyed.
There it is.
Looks like a control panel for the goddess.
Access: pope, saintess, hero—admins. Saintess here, hero unborn. Pope left.
Damage at 24%? Pope's the culprit. Culprit found.
Savoring the puzzle click, Bennett's party chimed in.
"Knew everything again, huh."
"See, Niore? All prepped like that—how's it a love letter? Bennett, told ya. Info only from faith core—he's got it."
[Did I misread...? Thought it was definitely that kind.]
Uh.
"So, what's next? What web you spinning now, mage."
"Cut the circles, professor. So the goddess stuff in the letter—what?!"
Uh oh...
"Hero's scheme... Expectations high. Reformists seem against cardinals but actually on ropes, barely holding. Got an ace for this mess?"
"Then that detour through backwoods, offing weird holy knights, saving me...?"
Eh...?
Expectations piling too high.
I had skills, info—not helpless. But vibe's off. Here to lightly aid Bennett, then play with Yuna and Yuri.
Misunderstanding fair, and I could if pushed—but then swamped with work, no date fun. Plus, love advice from Bennett gets awkward...
Thought spectator tossing occasional lines.
Maybe clarify now: Here for vacation, hold business unless urgent.
I shot Pingbalrez a plea: rein this hype.
She leaned in, whispering.
"...Crazy mage, bit hurtful. Thought you were on break—got excited. Arm-eating aside, letter too—you came loaded for work."
"...Eh? No, wait."
"Fine though. You working... is hot. Just carve out real time later. For Tower Master too."
No, no! Wrong!
Here to play...!
Arm-eating? Y'know, seized chance.
Letter to Bennett? To bond, ask love advice...!
BAM—!!
Pingbalrez slammed the table. Noise died instantly, eyes on her.
Yuri Lanster unleashed her old hit squad charisma, enunciating crisply.
"Quiet."
"......"
"Lady Mima, speak. On your plan."
Pingbalrez's 'Yo, Mima's got words' broke my brain.
What now. Say 'Just testing, no plan'... Total lame...
No backing out. Brainstorm fast. Plausible plan from info so far—decent one.
"So, we..."
"......"
Everyone eyes hero spot. Crowds flood holy city: Northern Grand Duke, Irid, even Red Duke.
Tournament format, eight finalists pull sword. Cardinals—potential foes—have goddess controller, their hero pick.
Even with sword control, drop from candidates and nada.
Thus.
"Unite all factions bar cardinals, pool strength, knock out their hero picks entirely."
"...Such idealism work? Tangled interests, hero fruit too sweet. Cooperation shaky...?"
But surprisingly, yes. Why? Every major faction converging... linked to me one degree away!
...Hell, just flash Heart at Northern Grand Duke again!