Ten Years in the Shadows
My memories of childhood—of those happy days spent with my parents—are terribly faint.
I parted from them when I was little more than a baby, after all.
After that, old man Hans looked after my sister and me.
And once Hans passed away, it was just my sister caring for me on her own.
She'd lost her parents too, struggling to adapt to an ordinary life, yet she poured everything into making sure I never wanted for anything.
She built connections, founded a guild, and created the empire's premier information guild.
A teenage girl who'd overnight lost her parents and noble status achieved all that—alone. For her little sister.
Sister was always suffering, but she never let it show.
When hardships struck or thoughts of our parents surfaced, she'd retreat to a dark corner of the house and weep silently, stifling her sobs.
All so she wouldn't reveal her weakness to me.
To honor the promise she'd made to our parents. To protect me. To raise me.
With her talents, she could have avoided scraping by in the shadows.
Sister excelled in administration, combat, intelligence gathering, infiltration, even commanding mercenaries.
She could have gone anywhere on the continent, claimed a title, and lived in luxury.
Even the Nova Empire wouldn't have dared touch a titled noble like her.
But she chose the grueling shadows—for me.
If she'd stepped into the light and claimed a title, those Nova bastards might uncover our identities and assassinate me.
Attacking a titled noble would be seen as outright provocation against her new nation, shielding her from Nova's reach. But me, her family? They could kill me without sparking a war.
From Nova's perspective, I'd be the perfect target to eliminate.
Of course, one might wonder if Nova even needed to bother. Sure, we were the surviving daughters of high nobles they'd branded traitors and slaughtered unjustly—potential loose ends. But really?
And there was no guarantee Nova would ever learn who we were. Still, Sister wanted to snuff out even that slim possibility.
So she embraced the harsh shadows.
Setting up our home in a hideout so secure and secluded it barely qualified as one.
Thanks to her, I lived safely—abundantly, even. Pretty clothes, jewels, trinkets. Anything I wanted, I had.
I couldn't go out or make friends for safety's sake, but it was all to protect me, so I didn't mind.
Then one day...
I caught the Crimson Rot.
A curse of a disease, where the body's extremities redden, rot away bit by bit, and ultimately claim your life.
The most vicious incurable plague imaginable—and I got it without ever stepping outside or meeting anyone.
Sister had sacrificed so much, worked tirelessly to shield me... and this was the result.
Yeah. Maybe this is for the best.
I've been a burden, dragging Sister down from the life she deserved. Because of me.
If I just vanished... she'd be free of this weight.
...Sister would finally be free.
She'd grieve, of course... but this would be for her sake.
With that resolve, I lay listless in bed, awaiting death.
Drifting into long sleeps, yearning for the end—until one day.
"Sister?"
"Io... Io!"
I came to, and there she was: Sister, weeping tears of joy.
"S-Sister!"
Suddenly, she pulled me into a fierce embrace.
Her arms around me shattered my will to die.
My beloved sister.
Leave her behind? No. I hate that.
I'm so selfish. A parasite leeching her life away, yet I can't bear to part from her.
What do I do, Sister?
And miraculously, the Crimson Rot vanished.
No one survives it—or so I'd heard.
Not even a saintess from any holy order. Not the grandest archmages.
The disease that leaves even emperors to await death in dread... cured.
Sister told me the Savior had rescued me.
The Savior!
Yes, someone with the power to heal Crimson Rot deserved the title.
Who was this person who'd saved me?
I asked Sister about the Savior.
She called him the Sage God descended upon this land.
Sage God?
A deity incarnated in human form... something like that?
What on earth did that mean?
Sister... had she fallen for some scam?
But Sister's no fool. She's brilliant.
Someone like her wouldn't be duped—especially not by ravings about a "Sage God."
So... was he truly a god in human flesh?
...No.
On second thought, her judgment might be clouded. Severely so.
Desperate to save me from Crimson Rot, she'd exhausted every option, every ounce of her strength—like grasping at straws.
Even the wisest could fall for a con in that state.
...Which meant it was my fault again. I'd led Sister into some fraud's trap.
Wait. But this so-called Sage God did cure me.
So he had real power?
Sister said he'd given her medicine. It wiped the disease clean. And he'd shared the recipe with her.
I don't know much about potions, but she explained he'd crafted it from common local ingredients.
To easily heal the lowliest sick in this land.
To spread the cure far and wide, eradicating Crimson Rot from the world.
...He just gave away the recipe?
For a plague that terrified everyone—the ultimate cure?
According to Sister, ever since learning it, she'd followed his will: distributing the medicine to beggars and outcasts, driving out the rot wherever it lurked.
And Sister's demeanor felt... off.
Even if he'd saved me, was that reason enough for such blind devotion?
Something was wrong. Suspiciously so.
As if this "Sage God" had targeted her, seduced her for his own ends.
So I begged Sister: let me meet him.
She refused.
Well, not outright—she said later, once I was fully recovered.
The Crimson Rot was gone, but lingering aftereffects remained.
She forbade me from leaving the hideout until I was completely healed.
That was over ten years ago.
Her fanaticism only deepened.
Her talents propelled the cult she led to explosive growth, which she attributed to him.
When really, it was all her skill.
Ten long years, and she still wouldn't let me venture out alone.
She allowed brief outings with her closest aides, but never solo.
Then, a few days ago, over a private meal outside the hideout, Sister dropped the news.
He was enrolling at the Kallandra Academy this term.
...What? Enrolling?
At the academy? That meant... he'd just come of age?
Younger than me?
I'm freshly adult now, so when he gave Sister that medicine... he was only seven? Eight?
I'd pictured some grizzled con man from all her Savior talk. But younger than me?
Sister said he'd forbidden her from meddling at the academy, so no meeting him there either.
Forbidden her? While using her like this?
A boy younger than me. Who supposedly saved my life.
I had to know who he really was.
Sister promised a meeting in time—but not before he graduated.
But her faith has grown radical, on a collision course with the Holy Kingdom.
She might do something irreversible for him.
...Not if I expose him first.
Skills I'd learned peeking over Sister's shoulder.
First time in real action, but they flowed flawlessly, like second nature.
Am I truly Sister's blood after all?
Feeling that kinship with her warmed me.
Infiltration into the academy dorms as a maid: success.
The virgin slated as his personal maid? Secretly recruited her, shipped her back home, and stole her identity.
Now, waiting in his room.
Him. The one I'd longed to see for ten years.
The one who saved me—or claims to.
The one who kept Sister waiting.
The bad one who never came for her.
The weirdo claiming to be a god.
To learn what kind of man he really is. And if he's no fraud, truly my savior... I'd offer him everything, beg forgiveness.
Creeeak.
At last, the door opened. He entered.
Beautiful sky-blue locks, like cascading silk... my dream ideal, straight from my fantasies.