Chapter 20
Chapter 20
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Recap - 2
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"As I said, I cannot permit it."
"That's absurd. The daughter of a noble house is injured. And not even in battle... This is not something we can overlook."
The Emperor stroked his golden beard and continued reviewing his documents without responding to the minister standing before him.
"Many people suspect he is Leodrín. Just in case..."
The Emperor's gaze lifted slightly. Even for a long-serving retainer, meeting that blunt yet weighty stare was no easy task.
"At the very least, we should verify through the remaining women of the Leodrín family. I don't know what proof he brought, but it's probably stolen..."
The Emperor spoke in a weary whisper, as if it were nothing at all.
"You should know. They are right. He is not Leodrín."
"Did he deceive Your Majesty?"
"No, I deceived everyone else."
Wrinkles creased around the Emperor's eyes, filled with regret and anguish seeping through the lines.
He had told too many lies. He had thought them necessary at the time, but one lie had bred another, creating scapegoats in its wake.
"Her Highness the Princess's marriage... Is it sincere?"
"I am sincere. But I cannot say the same for the others."
The Emperor pushed the documents to one side of his desk and dismissed the still-bewildered minister.
"...Are the people prepared?"
"Yes. Selection is complete, and they've been informed that this secret must never leave their lips."
"See to it that nothing is lacking. This must succeed."
The attendant nodded once before dashing off and vanishing from the Emperor's sight. He stared blankly at the scene before staggering back into his office.
The Emperor felt that today, more than ever, his body was too heavy to be borne by his own muscles.
Before ascending the throne, he had pursued only power. After becoming Emperor, he had acted solely for the empire and its subjects.
But the actions he was taking now were the epitome of irrationality and unreason.
"If I must sin against everyone in the end, then at least one person must be saved."
The Emperor's hand trembled as it gripped the documents.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "C-Church studying magic? Is that allowed?"
"Ah, this is a secret!"
Celia had entered the room to bring a snack to another nun, only to find her clutching her head and trembling violently.
"T-Taboo. The Goddess will be furious if She hears... Wh-when were you planning to join the Magic Tower..."
"N-No, really! It's necessary! Necessary!"
The nun hastily covered her magic books while desperately trying to explain.
"What's going on?"
"This is a real secret..."
But if the Saintess didn't hear a convincing explanation right now, she would undoubtedly rush to the church leadership to report it.
It wouldn't mean the nun would be punished for her sins, but the investigation process could expose confidential matters, which was a major problem.
Sharing the secret with her alone might be the better option.
"The Imperial Family said they need a cleric..."
"Magical holy spells? I didn't know you could use those."
"Y-You're understanding!"
Rare though they were, there existed spells that required the combined power of mages and clerics. They were massive incantations rarely put to use.
"I've tried those a few times before!"
"H-How did you learn magic? My head feels like it's splitting just trying..."
Such spells demanded that clerics comprehend magic, and mages grasp emotion.
Naturally, clerics who believed the world operated by divine providence couldn't fathom how sweeping hand gestures or symbols drawn with a brush could alter reality, instead of prayer.
Even if they understood the concept, it was problematic. They needed at least the most basic grasp of how magic operated.
"Wh-Why is that?"
But the Saintess smacked her lips and averted her gaze slightly.
"I just can't get it. I don't understand what they're saying, and the terms are too difficult..."
What clerics needed to learn were only the most rudimentary concepts, yet the breadth of knowledge mages handled was staggeringly vast. Even those basics weren't something one could absorb in a single go.
"I don't get what mages complain about with this stuff. Isn't this what they do every day..."
"It's faithless people learning faith. Of course it's hard."
Conversely, the instruction to infuse 'emotion' into spells was utterly absurd to mages.
For mages, magic was ultimately a goal, but practically a tool.
This differed from clerics, who believed that unwavering faith naturally produced stronger, grander miracles.
A spell was a spell. Emotions could influence internal mana flow and magical properties, but the idea that emotion alone could accomplish anything—that it held the power to determine the success or failure of a completed magical incantation and alter its outcome—was nonsense to mages.
In their world, it was akin to saying, 'If you stab with love at the sword's tip, it won't hurt.'
"How did you do it, Saintess?"
"Well..."
She seemed a bit naive, the kind of Saintess who knew nothing beyond prayer and the cathedral.
When word came that she had been drafted into the Hero Party to defeat the Demon King, there had been worries akin to leaving a child by the water's edge.
"Pray hard!"
"Ah."
As suspected, this pure-hearted Saintess couldn't possibly learn such knowledge.
She had simply compensated for the deficiencies with overwhelming holy power. Unrealistic amounts would have been required, but the Saintess was more than capable.
The nun sighed deeply and picked up her book again. At that moment, the door she had just closed swung open.
A tall figure entered—beautiful and noble-faced, with pointed ears and golden hair. An elf.
"I have something to say. Celia."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ She looked like she hadn't slept properly—hollow eyes, sluggish movements. Nothing like the swift, light-footed grace she had shown during their adventures.
She was clearly aware of me, yet passed by as if she couldn't see me at all.
When my gaze slipped away for a moment, she hurried to follow closely, yet she went to great lengths to avoid meeting my eyes.
The Archer. She was definitely tailing me.
"Wait, let's turn this way."
"B-Baron? That's not the road..."
"Just a moment."
I deliberately led us into a secluded alley before turning around casually, as if nothing were amiss.
"...You knew."
I couldn't track someone like her by instinct alone. Her condition looked so unstable she could barely stand.
"Like last time, here to frame me?"
"...No."
Her eyes flashed once with enmity and rage. But it wasn't directed at me.
"I regained my senses for a moment. I believe you're not the one who orchestrated this."
"Then stop following me, and we'll each go our separate ways."
But she did something beyond my expectations.
She bowed her head, ever so slightly. Nerwen did.
"I beg you... please, just a little closer..."
It was unimaginable.
By status alone, the Princess might rank higher, but she wasn't the type to wield authority in a petty, obnoxious way.
Rather, what upheld her was her strength, effort, will, and skill.
A Princess who placed the empire first might bow her head without issue.
"I'm going mad... I feel like I'm dying..."
But the Archer was different. She boasted that her skills were innate and took pride in it.
She believed herself chosen as the most beautiful, noble, and powerful among the World Tree's Great Warriors.
The elf who treated even her own kind as subordinates would never see a human as an equal.
It was more astonishing than a human apologizing to a cockroach.
But whatever resolve or thoughts led her to bow her head, it was none of my concern.
"So, what do you want?"
"We need to find the cause. If we return to the World Tree, the sages will surely have answers."
"Then go."
"M-My body... I can't detach. I can't move... Ugh..."
In short, she wanted me to go with her back to the World Tree. Naturally, I had no obligation to oblige.
"I'm not going."
"You refuse? Insolent human scum!"
She was out of her mind. Normally, she would flaunt her endless, distinctly elven wisdom and abilities.
Now, she was reduced to pandering to a lowly human with obvious flattery.
"Are you threatening the Baron right now?!"
The silver-haired maid shouted as she jumped in.
"Don't think being part of the Hero Party means we'll let this slide!"
Unfazed, she boldly scolded the Archer.
"If you show up in front of the Baron one more time, I'll formally report this to His Majesty the Emperor!"
"Stay out of this, you mere maid!"
The Archer vented her anger from a body that looked ready to collapse at any moment.
But it was an empty roar, like a fallen queen bellowing at protesters storming the palace—scaring no one.