Opening the Second Branch (2)
Lagertha of House Greenhand was a noblewoman from the north.
The Empire's northern reaches had a long history of struggle, and they were famous as a land of warriors that had produced countless knights.
House Greenhand, too, boasted a long lineage and was a prestigious house that had raised warriors and knights renowned for their valor…
"You fool! A daughter of Greenhand choosing magic instead of the sword?!"
"Talent for magic? What good is that? A northern noble can only elevate the family's honor through steel and blood."
"You'd have been better off smiling prettily and speaking sweetly. Then at least you could have married well and contributed to the house."
History and tradition were not always virtues. Stagnant water rotted, and far too often that rot was simply papered over in the name of tradition.
In a northern climate that dismissed magic as little more than a convenient parlor trick, Lagertha's standing was hopeless.
She had merely chosen what she was good at—and somehow that was enough for her own family to brand her a useless human being.
There was only one reason she never made an extreme choice under that relentless mental abuse.
"Lagertha, these barbarians are unworthy of you. Go up to the capital and spread your wings wide."
"Master…"
The teacher who had taken her as a disciple had filled the role her family never would.
Having recognized her gift early, her master believed in her and supported her more than her own blood ever had—enough to petition a Tower Master and secure a recommendation letter for the Imperial Academy.
There was only one reason Lagertha had come up to the capital and enrolled.
She could not betray her master's expectations.
But to a girl so timid her self-esteem scraped the floor, the Academy was an utterly alien place.
Everywhere she looked, the stars of the age flaunted their talents without a shred of hesitation.
Among that glittering constellation, Lagertha felt only emptiness. The hollow sense of being nothing at all left her as drained as if someone had ripped out her heart.
So when Emily—her only real friend—insisted a certain gathering would help and dragged her along, she expected nothing.
Especially when the host was Yoanna, who shone alone as if she looked down on everything else.
That was what she had believed…
"How strange. Why does Miss Lagertha, gifted with such splendid talent, still care so much about a family that only tears her down?"
"Ah…?"
The bluntness of it struck Lagertha like a blow. She had never heard—never even imagined—a priestess who so casually dismissed blood ties.
Yet the way the words brushed past her wounds made something surge up inside her.
She was certain this girl could never understand a lifetime of being ignored by her own family.
"H-how could Miss Yoanna possibly understand me? Recognized talent, kind parents, outstanding beauty… you have everything."
Lagertha flinched, startled by her own words.
She spent every day chewing over her own shortcomings, yet she had never once spoken ill of another person.
The shocks did not stop there.
"Hmm… I'll tell you a secret first."
"W-what is it?"
"My parents aren't my birth parents. My real parents handed me over to evil-god cultists so they could chase their own pleasure. They were garbage."
"Eh…?"
The venom aimed at her own blood parents left Lagertha staring at Yoanna in open shock.
She had never imagined someone who seemed so perfect and unblemished could carry a secret like that.
Yoanna simply poured tea as if it were nothing and continued.
"It doesn't matter, though. The family I chose is kind and good, just as you said. Did you know? Sometimes the people you choose for yourself are far more precious than the bonds heaven forces on you."
Lagertha found herself nodding before she realized it.
She, too, loved her master more than her family, and she had come to regard the people of the Magic Tower as kin.
Having found common ground, she began to listen to Yoanna in earnest without even meaning to.
"Belittling your own talent just because of what the people around you say is foolish. So tell me—how many people from your family ever enrolled in the Imperial Academy?"
"I know you worked hard under your family's oppression. If you hadn't, how could your master have obtained that recommendation letter?"
"Don't seek everyone's approval. What matters is being recognized by the people you truly cherish."
Words from someone who carried a similar wound had a strange way of sinking straight into the heart.
And when salve is applied to an open wound, it stings—and tears tend to follow.
"I-I'm sorry. Why am I suddenly crying…"
Lagertha's shoulders shook as tears fell one after another.
She poured out every grievance she had never been able to speak of to anyone, until the tears finally stopped.
Like draining pus from a festering wound, she emptied herself of everything she had kept locked away.
When she had nothing left and realized how pathetic she must look, she wiped her face.
That was when Yoanna rose from her seat, drew her into an embrace, and said,
"Opening your heart couldn't have been an easy choice. Thank you for trusting me with it."
How long had it been since anyone had held her?
How long had she lived forgetting that another person's warmth could feel this gentle?
The warmth filling the hollow in her chest was so precious that Lagertha squeezed her eyes shut without thinking.
One last tear she had thought was finished slid down her cheek.
A tear that seemed to carry a lifetime of resentment—so hot it felt as if it might burn her skin.
The gathering Yoanna ran—nicknamed Green Camp—successfully joined the ranks of the Academy's mainstream clubs.
There turned out to be far more students nursing wounds of the heart than anyone expected. Telling the elders of their houses would only earn them lectures about weakness, so of course they were desperate.
People who arrived half-skeptical on a friend's introduction left in tears after pouring out their burdens, one after another.
There were so many of them that Yoanna started stocking disposable handkerchiefs in bulk.
The original hope had been that Yoanna would settle into Academy life and actually experience her youth…
"Before I knew Lord Dantalion, my whole life was nothing but darkness…"
"Yoanna, my light. My salt. My rest… kuhk?!"
"You bastard! How dare you reduce Lady Yoanna to personal property!"
"No! I only meant it as praise!"
"No excuses! Beat this man whose head is stuffed with impure thoughts!"
It had started to feel a little too much like a second church branch.
What had begun as a way to lighten hearts and raise Yoanna's reputation had somehow transformed into a religious gathering.
This is basically a cult club at this point.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, Dantalion snagged a cookie from the corner and ate it.
They were cookies Lagertha herself had baked for the first meeting—luxurious treats made with applied magic, and they tasted exquisite.
Seated at the head of the long table, Yoanna took a cookie and offered her thanks.
"Lagertha, thank you for always preparing such delicious snacks. Lord Dantalion is surely pleased as well."
"A child of the north repays kindness for a lifetime! If it makes Miss Yoanna happy, I will prepare them as many times as needed!"
In a short time, Lagertha had changed a great deal.
With her shoulders squared, she carried a confidence that finally matched her frame, and the muscle in her arms and legs looked as solid as any northerner's after she had taken up training.
At her hip hung a mace she had enchanted herself.
One of the members munching on the cookies she had passed around spoke up.
"Lagertha's incredible these days. Strong enough to beat a knight-course student one-on-one, you know?"
"Right. She reinforces her body with magic and swings that mace—you can hear the impacts booming."
Freed of her burdens, Lagertha was spreading her wings and soaring in the truest sense.
Wrapped in layers of magic and swinging an enchanted mace, she looked ready to put the berserkers famous in the north to shame.
Scratching her head in embarrassment, Lagertha only scattered more cookies and poured more life into the gathering.
Then a young man who had been fidgeting alone in the corner carefully opened his mouth.
"Um…"
"Harald, is something worrying you? You look a little down…"
Even after Yoanna's question, Harald hesitated, reading the room. The other members leaned in with concern.
"What's going on? Just be honest with us."
"Yeah. Other people might not, but we would never look down on you."
Bound by similar hardships, the people of this gathering shared a surprisingly tight sense of camaraderie.
And they were youths with blood still running hot. None of them were cold enough to ignore a friend's pain.
Encouraged by their worry, Harald finally spoke with care.
"Actually… one of my friends has been acting strange lately."
"Oh no. Why not bring him to our gathering? Other people might not listen, but we will."
"Thanks, but when I say strange I don't mean it that way… Lately it seems like he's been going to some suspicious club."
"A suspicious club?"
The words sent the students' imaginations racing in every direction. There were simply too many possibilities.
Even Dantalion had to nod. The imperial capital was… well, calling it a cauldron of desire was an understatement.
From alchemy circles that inhaled narcotic fumes to gatherings that pursued pleasure without regard for gender or species.
What "without regard for species" actually meant was best left to the imagination.
"Did he catch something? That's not something we can really help with."
"No!? I don't think it's that kind of club… He stays out every weekend and comes back looking more and more haggard. I'm worried."
"Hmm… No matter how I look at it, that still sounds right."
"I said it's not!"
Despite Harald's fierce protests, the members were half-convinced.
If it wasn't that, why the overnight stays and the wasted body? Plenty of nobles with secret lovers grew unrecognizably thin.
In the end, the group concluded that the best help for his friend would be a contraceptive fashioned from a goat's bladder…
Once she was sure everyone had left, Yoanna's expression cooled. She drew out a single sheet of paper.
Signs of evil-god cultists have been detected in the capital. Twelve corpses drained of every drop of blood have been discovered. Academy students are among the victims. Immediate action is required.
"They really do scatter their eggs everywhere like cockroaches."
Perhaps this was what people meant when they said they couldn't wait for the weekend.
Yoanna burned the document and watched the flames with a cold little smile.
Hoping that the parasites who fed on people would burn just as brightly.