Part 2, Chapter 10
Part 2, Chapter 10
Translation: godsn
"Try harder. Are you going to fail from the very first step? If you can't even take away the one family she has left, how do you expect to seize the Gold Star's orbit?"
The man behind the pendant sneered with a metallic voice.
Click.
The communication was cut off.
The sacred flame had long since shifted back from black to the benevolent visage of the goddess.
Rachel anxiously gnawed at her nails.
"Damn it. Medeia, that bitch—if only she would just appear—"
Even the King, and even the Agemas whose minds had been eroded by brainwashing, had forgotten her existence.
Beyond constantly interfering with her plans, the creeping unease she'd felt when left alone with Medeia earlier still lingered.
'Could it be... Has that girl awakened?'
Selene, the true Shadeia Prophetess whom her own mother had driven out.
Medeia was Selene's only daughter—she might have inherited the prophetic power latent in that bloodline.
"No, impossible. If that were true, she wouldn't just stand by and watch."
If she had foresight, she wouldn't have allowed me into the royal palace—no, she wouldn't have stood by while her precious brother was put in danger in the first place.
This was the omnipotence of the goddess.
Even after becoming the Saintess awaited by the temple—no, by all of humanity—she wouldn't have remained this quiet.
So.
Rachel bit her lip and clenched her fists.
"...She hasn't awakened yet."
Muttering to herself, Rachel shook her head. A shallow sigh of relief escaped her.
"Thank goodness, Medeia. It's not too late yet."
Her gentle voice carried a sinister undercurrent of delight.
Both the Shadeia Prophetess and the Saintess would be remembered as one and only one name across the continent.
Rachel—only in her name.
The unraveled bandages fluttered in tatters.
Rachel stared straight at her reflection in the wooden mirror, meticulously fixing her makeup inch by inch.
Before long, she had neatly combed out her disheveled hair and carefully steadied her breathing.
"I have to drag Medeia down from her position as Princess first. To do that, I need to remind everyone that that bitch is nothing but an unlucky cursed object."
It wouldn't be easy. Right now, Medeia was beloved by both the nobles and the commoners as the hero who stood against the Rebel Army and protected the nation.
Fortunately, Rachel was no stranger to this kind of work.
The hardest stone of faith can be shattered by a single drop of doubt.
Just as Selene, Medeia's mother, had been driven out and killed before she could awaken her omnipotence, so too would her daughter Medeia meet the same fate.
"The Holy Knights are arriving soon, aren't they...?"
The stage was set, the audience ready. All that remained was the actors for the play.
Rachel's sinister gaze fell upon the tattered shreds of bandages.
Luxurious golden locks cascaded over shoulders draped in a silk gown. They were so soft they felt like they would slip right through one's fingers.
"Saintess, how can you be so beautiful?"
A handmaiden sighed in admiration as she combed through Rachel's hair.
Since entering the palace as a guest of the King of Valdina, Rachel had swiftly won over the hearts of the palace staff with her harmless kindness and the holy power she generously shared.
"She's the Saintess, you know? Do you realize how incredible she is? They say she wiped out an entire horde of ghouls and saved His Majesty! They also say her holy power is incredibly strong! That's why the Holy Kingdom is rushing to get her back."
"Even though she's second only to the Pope in power as the Saintess, you wouldn't believe how kind she is. Every day, she goes to the slums to heal sick children, and she shares her holy power without hesitation even with lowly servants like us."
With her kindness and gentleness, Rachel quickly gained the people's favor.
Even the handmaiden assigned to serve at the Cottage House under Medeia's orders.
"To humiliate her in front of so many people when she first arrived at the palace... Her Highness the Princess is truly too much! The Saintess is practically His Majesty's savior, and yet!"
The handmaiden pouted.
The maid assigned to serve Rachel was foolish and naive.
After Rachel healed a few minor wounds with her holy power, the girl had become utterly enchanted by her.
Turning such people to her side with just a few words was child's play for Rachel.
"I went to treat His Majesty but missed the timing. I must have upset Her Highness the Princess. She really shouldn't be so angry with me..."
Rachel let her brows droop pitifully as she continued.
"That's why I was thinking... if I were to bestow a sacred blessing upon something Her Highness cherishes, perhaps she'd look upon me more favorably?"
"Hmm..."
The maid scratched her chin.
"You said you often visit the Princess's palace, didn't you? Is there anything among Her Highness's belongings that would be fitting for a blessing?"
"Well...? I can't think of anything off the top of my—"
"Think harder. Something engraved with Her Highness's name... something unmistakably hers?"
As Rachel's voice grew more insistent, the maid's eyes glazed over further.
"Ah... Last year, for Her Highness's birthday, His Majesty gifted her a mithril dagger engraved with her name."
At the maid's answer, Rachel's lips curled into a sweet smile.
"That would be perfect. Then... could you bring that dagger to me without anyone noticing?"
Above the maid's dazed pupils, the faint outline of a goat-horned sigil flickered.
"Of course. No problem at all. I used to work in the Princess's palace, you know. I'm even quite close with Saya, Her Highness's personal maid."
The maid answered in a trance-like voice.
"Yes, I know."
Rachel nodded gently. Had she more strength to spare, she would have approached more maids, but between maintaining the sigils on the Agema and keeping Pelleus in her sights, this would have to do.
"That's why I'm entrusting this to you."
The maid nodded fervently, her eyes still clouded.
Princess Valdina's Palace.
"Your Highness, that so-called Saintess is seriously weird!"
Saya grumbled.
"Now she's even warping the people around her!"
"What happened?"
At Medeia's composed question, Saya swallowed her anger and spilled everything from start to finish.
"Anji tried to sneak into my study?"
"Yes! Sister Neril saw her yesterday at dawn. She ran off as soon as she heard footsteps, but still!"
While venting about Anji's betrayal—once a maid of the Princess's palace—Saya narrowed her eyes sharply.
"But before punishing Anji, there's something else I need to tell you, Your Highness. I've been thinking it over, and a while back, that wench tried to casually fish for information about your dagger."
Anji had played it off, but ha! Did she really think Saya, sharp as a blade, would miss something so obvious? She scoffed inwardly.
Having been tempered by back-alley thieves who'd sweet-talked her out of her wages and bread, Saya wasn't fooled by Anji's clumsy act.
"Ever since she was sent to Cottage House and got a taste of that so-called Holy Power, she's been singing the Saintess's praises. I knew something was off—Wait, Your Highness, why are you laughing?"
Saya tilted her head as Medeia suddenly burst into laughter.
'The dagger, huh... Rachel, you've already started preparing.'
"I think I know what she's after. Good to see some things never change."
Rachel's cowardly methods—manipulating others like chess pieces while keeping her own hands spotless—were as predictable as ever.
"Just let her take it."
"What?! No way! Who knows what she'll do with it!"
"It's fine. The real one is here anyway."
With a soft click, a drawer slid open, revealing a gleaming silver dagger.
"You didn't think I'd carelessly leave Pelleus's gift lying around, did you? The one in the study is a fake."
"Ah..."
"Consider it a gift from me."
"To who?"
Saya pressed.
"Hmm. You'll find out soon enough. Don't worry about it."
Medeia smirked.
"After all, Anji isn't the only piece waiting to make its move there, is she?"
Under Medeia's control, there were plenty of chess pieces biding their time.
A few days later, Cottage House.
Rachel gazed down at the silver dagger now in her possession.
Then, her fingers traced the elegant, archaic script engraved faintly along the hilt.
Heh.
Her refined lips twisted into something grotesque.
"Hmm... All the preparations are complete."
Alone, Rachel hummed a soft, eerie tune.