Opening the Second Branch (1)
Schools with histories as long as the Imperial Academy always had their traditions.
Among them, the best-known was ranking the supernovas among the incoming first-years.
"The strongest among this year's freshmen has to be Yohaim of the Lichtenauer family, right? I heard his swordsmanship is comparable to his uncle, Master Yohanes."
"You're in the knight department and you believe that? Catching up to Master Yohanes's swordsmanship would take a million years. Margaret of the Gray Magic Tower would be—"
"No one left to suck up to, so you're sucking up to some two-bit mage?"
"You looking down on magic? Knights walk around wrapped head to toe in gear enchanted by mages!"
"Yeah, next up: equipment wrappers… Whoa—! You crazy bastard, throwing a fireball at school?!"
Debating the ranking of geniuses they themselves could never approach was absurd enough, but ranking people was human instinct.
If people argued over the strength of ogres and drakes they had never even seen, how much more so with other people?
This semester, though, that heat had gone rather lukewarm…
"But in the end, aren't they all still below Miss Yoanna?"
"Mmm… the head instructor himself certified her, so."
"Even so, going up against a Saint is impossible, right? She's the church's strongest asset. How do you beat that?"
Even a supernova could never outshine a blazing sun.
How could you compare a star glittering in the night sky to the sun that lit the world and announced the morning?
That was how unprecedented and shocking the admission of a Saint truly was.
Students and instructors alike chewed over this endlessly sweet topic every single day…
"What do you think, Emily?"
"H-huh? About what?"
"What do you mean, what! That girl Yoanna!"
"Isn't she kind of annoying? If she's so great, she should've stayed with the church. Why enroll at the Academy and use us as stepping stones!"
Emily, stuck between her classmates and Yoanna through no fault of her own, could only look miserable.
Her peaceful Academy life had ended before a single month had even passed.
Hating someone you had no connection to did not require any grand reason.
All you needed was an excuse to hate them; the reasons would pile up on their own while you were busy hating.
"If she's a female Saint, isn't she a Saintess? A Saintess going around charming men—that's all she's good for."
"She doesn't even plan to attend classes, so why enroll at the Academy in the first place?"
"Isn't the whole 'Saint' thing a lie? Common sense says no one that age becomes a Saint."
"There was clearly some kind of deal."
The curious thing about conspiracy theories was that they could create something from nothing.
They invented witnesses that never existed and forged physical evidence, then shoved a person into the gutter—alchemy had nothing on them.
Not everyone, however, whispered conspiracy theories and hated her.
"Sir Iskandar purged the monsters in my hometown free of charge. A man like that would never lie."
"Yesterday while walking through the city I saw Miss Yoanna volunteering at an orphanage. That pure smile could never belong to an evil person."
"Tsk tsk. Beautiful flowers attract not only butterflies but pests as well. Shameless, ugly little things."
The sun was worshipped simply for existing.
Few people could ignore a presence that drew every eye just by being there.
And so Yoanna's detractors and her admirers argued back and forth in places she never saw, conducting debates of the refined sort befitting Academy students…
"Miss Emily, what do you think? We're right, aren't we?"
"Hieeeeek…"
Emily found the whole situation unbearably stressful.
For a girl who preferred curling up in a corner with a book and smiling to herself, interpersonal conflict was far too difficult a realm.
Of course, being friends with Yoanna, she was on her side…
"Hey! What are you doing, putting Miss Emily on the spot like that! She's always been with us!"
"What nonsense? Emily hangs out with us way more!"
Every class had someone like this.
Someone with no presence and few words who, somehow, still managed to win people's affection—a blessing that was not quite a blessing.
Emily had merely read old books and occasionally answered when spoken to, yet in her classmates' memories she had been stamped as something like a friend.
Today, once again crushed like a shrimp between fighting whales, Emily dragged her exhausted body back to the dormitory.
She opened the door, stepped inside, and let out a long sigh.
"Haa…"
"Emily, did something happen?"
Yoanna, who had been tending to her sword in the room, tilted her head and greeted her.
Emily tossed her bag roughly beside the desk and flopped onto the bed. Yoanna set her sword down, climbed onto the bed, and gently stroked Emily's hair.
"What's wrong? Is something hard? If someone's bullying you, I can go scold them."
"……"
It was a kind offer, so why did a classroom painted in blood flash through her mind?
Emily knew the reason all too well. She knew exactly where Yoanna went prowling on the days she skipped class.
Still, hiding secrets from Yoanna was not something a friend should do either.
"Lately people who are jealous of Miss Yoanna keep trying to drag me into it."
"Hmm… enough of them that it's hard on you?"
"So many! People I've never even spoken to are slandering Miss Yoanna with baseless nonsense… I couldn't even get a word in."
Emily puffed out her cheeks and swung her fists through the air, grumbling.
She wanted to smash their heads with a book, but half the Academy students were elite nobles.
Picking a fight with those types would only get Emily herself in trouble—that much was obvious.
The naive girl she used to be might have done it, but Emily, who had broadened her horizons following Yoanna, was careful about her actions now.
Even so, knowing that Emily's heart was still on her side, Yoanna smiled.
"That many… I'm a little worried."
"You don't need to worry about it, Miss Yoanna. People who spend their time tearing others down instead of improving themselves aren't anything special."
"Thank you. Still, anyone who made it into the Imperial Academy is plenty special."
"Ugh…"
That was fair.
However far the Academy might have drifted from its old reputation for fairness, no talentless person could enroll.
Young and full of prejudice they might be, but the students of the Imperial Academy were still the most gifted in the Empire, were they not?
While Emily fretted over how to ease people's envy…
"…Yes, that method would certainly give me more room to move."
"?"
Emily looked at Yoanna, who was answering the empty air, with a puzzled expression.
It was not the first time she had seen this. Yoanna sometimes stared into empty space and acted as if someone were there.
Emily was the only one who had noticed…
She's definitely a narcissist. I saw her talking to a mirror once, you know.
A bit of nonsense some bad friend had spouted once flitted through Emily's mind.
But how could she accept slander against the first friend she had made after leaving home?
Shaking off the unkind thought, Emily came up with an idea so absurd she could not even believe it herself.
What if she's actually talking to Lord Dantalion?
Honestly—receiving an oracle was one thing, but conversing directly with a god?
Even she thought it was ridiculous, and Emily let out a silent, hollow laugh.
It was probably just one of Miss Yoanna's peculiar habits.
The very peculiar habit of speaking as if someone stood in empty air.
Dantalion, the heinous demon who had seduced an innocent girl and led her down a blood-soaked path.
Even so, Dantalion had no intention of raising Yoanna into a hellish chosen one who knew neither youth nor joy.
Had that been his plan, he would have gifted her a crown tempered in Hell's brimstone fires, handed her a whip forged of lightning, and ordered her to smash the surface world to pieces, would he not?
"The Academy is still a school, after all. Students form groups, and there is no better way to grow close to people than through a group."
So, after hearing Emily's complaints, Dantalion proposed something to Yoanna.
She should open a gathering for her classmates. It was not quite as fragrant with youth as a club, but it would at least leave some school memories behind.
Of course, using Academy facilities required administrative procedures…
"Fortunately Sir Iskandar agreed to serve as our faculty advisor, so the process went quickly."
"Mm. Much appreciated."
When the Academy's head instructor himself took on the role of advisor, what could the administrative staff possibly do?
Having secured a room in short order, Yoanna furnished it modestly and hung a nameplate on the door.
Green Camp — Walking with the Gospel of God
Dantalion looked at the nameplate and nodded in satisfaction.
Green Camp—interpreted more essentially, a kind of counseling room. Frankly, few things suited Yoanna better.
For a girl who had built the prosperity of an entire church through her sermons, what gathering could possibly fit her more?
With her preaching, many students would open their hearts and become her friends!
"But why is it called Green Camp? I've never heard that word before…"
"It was a system run by the military of a nation that has since vanished into history. Anyone suffering from an illness of the heart could visit and have their problem resolved one way or another."
"I see…"
There was a reason the church's prestige scraped the heavens.
In an age that dismissed illnesses of the heart as the excuses of the weak, only the gospel of God could heal those wounds and serve as a pillar of support—hence the soaring status.
Yet as long as students did not know what Green Camp meant, no one would come looking for the gathering.
"Miss Yoanna? I brought a student who wants counseling with you!"
So they asked Emily to reel people in—er, to bring them over.
People with aching hearts tended to open up more easily to someone soft and gentle like Emily, someone who carried a faint scent of their own kind.
A female student, pushed forward by Emily, stepped hesitantly into the room.
"Ah, hello. I'm Lagersa of the Greenhand family. Um… I'm truly sorry for making someone like you waste time on the likes of me…"
Shoulders slumped in a way that did not match her frame, eyes drained of life, and a voice that shrank smaller and smaller as if trying to crawl into a mouse hole.
Ordinarily one would feel uncomfortable and prefer not to deal with such a person…
"Welcome. The church of Lord Dantalion always keeps its doors wide open to innocent little lambs."
Yoanna gladly welcomed the appetizing—no, the pitiful little lamb.
All of it, so that the correct teachings might spread far and wide.