What Will You Believe?
What will you believe?
The next day, Aria shut herself in her room. She canceled all her schedules—prayers, worship, and classes alike. She feared that the moment she attended a lecture or stepped into the chapel, Raoul would cling to her and try to control her every move. So she never left the grounds of the Holy Department dormitory.
…Yesterday he let me go without a fuss, but the longer I stay with Raoul, the more suffocated I feel.
—Haha, understood. Then enjoy your time.
“…”
Even his easy permission felt oppressive. Whether she refused or not, it was as if her answer never reached him. Her words simply echoed into empty air.
“…”
Aria was afraid of Raoul now. She could no longer read his intentions. He was the same inquisitor she had known for ten years in the Theocracy, yet at some point his gaze had become hidden behind the shadow of the sun.
He’s someone I’ve known since childhood, but he feels more terrifying and unfamiliar by the day… Is this really right?
Just then, someone knocked on her door. Knock, knock.
A gentle female voice called from beyond the door.
—Saintess, it’s Edel. I heard you were planning to take a walk around the dormitory grounds.
“!”
Aria hurried to the door and greeted the “senior” who had come to escort her.
“Good morning, Senior Edel.”
“Good morning, Saintess.”
Edel was a third-year female student of the Holy Department. She had been ordered by Raoul to “assist” the reclusive Aria. With an apologetic expression, she bowed her head.
“The Saintess deserves to have her autonomy respected… I hope you can understand why I must stand by your side like this.”
“Senior Edel…! Please speak more casually.”
“No. Next year I will receive priestly ordination. I feel no shame in showing proper respect to the Saintess. As a servant of the Sun God, I must bow my head to all who have received His grace.”
“…”
Edel was quiet, yet extraordinarily rigid in her beliefs. She was also a fervent follower of Prayer Priest Edrian. Recalling that fact, Aria gave a bitter smile.
“…Then shall we go?”
“Yes. It is an honor.”
The two left Aria’s dormitory and strolled slowly through the grounds where the Holy Department students resided. Since it was still class time at the Academy, the area was empty. Aria glanced around and spotted a particularly tall tree. Its branches were thick with green leaves, but the “item” she was looking for was nowhere to be seen. Today was apparently not the day Lydia had mentioned.
—When the “right time” comes, I shall hang a letter on the tallest tree in the Holy Department grounds. Read it then.
“…”
What exactly is the “right time”? The Hero’s second trial?
At any rate, it was not today. Aria turned her steps, intending to return to the dormitory. But something hard brushed against her foot.
Thud!
“!”
Aria looked down.
“…A wooden sword?”
“Ah, it must have been left behind by the brothers of the Holy Knights after their morning training.”
“The Holy Knights train here, along the path? Aren’t there plenty of training grounds and open fields in the Academy?”
Even Arty trained in the open field every dawn, didn’t he? Yet the answer she received from Edel was rather telling.
“From what I hear, even within the Holy Knights there is… some tension between the brothers under Inquisitor Raoul and those who are not.”
“…”
In short, it was factional strife. The situation had grown so bad that some knights had to train elsewhere to avoid Raoul’s overbearing faction. Edel sighed.
“I heard the brothers under the inquisitor who participated in yesterday’s Hero’s Trial were deeply disheartened. So they… well, they were rather sharp with the others.”
“…”
“Apparently, those who have reached the Fluid Realm can easily handle ten opponents who have not. It seems the others were overwhelmed.”
“…”
In other words, they had taken out their frustration on the wrong people—venting their defeat at Arty’s hands on those far weaker than themselves.
“…”
Even Aria let out a sigh.
“…Haa.”
They were fellow believers of the Sun God, yet their behavior was pitiful and ugly.
Even with power, they refuse to use it to protect the weak…
People like Arty, Mave, and Lydia trained every day to protect others. How noble their dawn drills had seemed.
“…”
Thinking of them, Aria bent down and picked up the wooden sword.
“…”
The moment she held it, Lydia’s voice echoed in her mind—the voice that had instructed Arty. Aria closed her eyes and recalled the memory.
“…”
—Grip the hilt firmly with both hands.
The solid feel. The smooth surface. The surprisingly heavy weight.
“…”
—Spread your legs to shoulder width. Breathe deeply. Imagine a stable triangle rooted firmly to the earth.
Swish—
“Huu…”
Aria imagined herself as a triangle beneath the sun. Her legs naturally planted themselves on the ground.
—And point the sword naturally toward your opponent, ready to strike at any moment.
Thud!
“…”
Her mind felt clear. At the same time, she felt there was no turning back. It was strangely familiar, as if she had known this sensation for a long time. No… it was more like inheriting someone else’s memory.
…So this is how it feels. This is how the Hero feels when he fights.
But the feeling did not last. From behind her, Edel called out in a flustered voice.
“…Saintess?”
“?!”
…Ah, what am I doing in front of Senior Edel?
She was not some child playing at being the Hero. Aria hurriedly lowered the wooden sword, her face flushing red. She spoke to Edel in a rush.
“H-Haha. Th-That is… I suddenly thought of the Hero’s Trial. It’s nothing.”
“R-Right…”
“Let’s head back to the room.”
“…Yes.”
Aria hurried forward. Edel followed behind her.
“…”
Edel thought to herself, The Saintess seems… quite skilled with a sword. Her presence was similar to the brothers from the Holy Knights. Her stance was very clean, too.
…Was it just her imagination?
*
Swordsmanship Department class time. Instructor Jacques remained silent. It was not because he was angry. The freshmen were following the lesson so well that he had nothing to say.
—Dominic! You pathetic womanizer who lost to this girl! Spar with me! I’ll show you how fierce the women of southern Gallia can be!
—I-I didn’t lose…!
—Arty, you have to earn the approval of the three of us—!
—Why me?!
—I won’t let you be alone with Her Highness the Princess!
Regardless of gender, the freshmen fought like berserkers. The sound of wooden swords clashing echoed from every direction.
Thwack—! Thud!
Even after stamina training and tactical lectures had ended, the freshmen showed no signs of fatigue. This was a far cry from the beginning of the semester, when they would slump the moment training finished. While they fought, they stole glances at the princess, who was elegantly felling one opponent after another. Lydia was defeating the students who approached her with minimal technique.
Thud!
Finally, one student fell.
“A-Ahh?! I lost…”
“You fought well. Next.”
“Hngh… Thank you for striking me, Your Highness.”
“Call me Lydia. Next.”
“I’m next!”
“Come.”
Thwack—!
“Kgh?!”
“You fought well. Next.”
“It is an honor…”
Even after being struck, the students beamed whenever their eyes met Lydia’s. She faced them one after another with an indifferent expression. The freshmen muttered as they staggered about.
—As expected of the peak of the Fluid Realm…
—Her Highness is too noble.
—I want to stay by her side…!
—How skilled must a swordsman be to become her maid?
They immediately lined up again, eager to be struck by Lydia once more. Lydia glanced at Instructor Jacques and smiled awkwardly, as if to say:
—Aren’t you going to end this, Sir Jacques?
Instructor Jacques chuckled.
“…”
There’s no war going on, yet they’re all so fired up. They’re desperate to impress Lydia.
Thanks to them, even the teaching assistants who had been rousing the freshmen with cute threats now stood with arms crossed in silence, inwardly pleased by the spirited new recruits. There was something thrilling about watching new soldiers become warriors.
“…”
“…”
“…”
…But they did not show it. Just as the freshmen were about to overheat, Instructor Jacques declared,
“Class is over for today! Everyone, go rest!”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
“Yes!”
Dominic grumbled at Mave and the female students. He had been struck particularly often by the women.
“Kgh… The women of the Theocracy and the Republic are so delicate and beautiful. Why are the women of the Gallia Kingdom so fierce and difficult?”
“What are you saying?”
Mave glared at him.
“You’re just ridiculously weak.”
“But even another woman can see that Mave is strong.”
“Wh-What…?”
“Anyway, I think Sir Dominic is at fault.”
Lydia spoke from among the female students.
“Oh? So this lady is fierce and difficult, is she?”
“Hek?! No, that’s not what I meant!”
“Indeed, Sir Dominic’s judgment was accurate. This lady is a fierce and difficult woman.”
“Th-That is…!”
The female students giggled at Dominic. Then they whispered just loud enough for those nearby to hear.
—Look how red his face is.
—Sir Lucian is always cold and scary, but Sir Dominic is kind of cute.
“…”
Embarrassed, Dominic suddenly shouted at Arty as if fleeing.
“You…! Commoner! Arty! Come here and tell me about the Hero’s Trial!”
“I was curious about that too.”
“It was oddly satisfying to see those Theocracy knights get crushed by force.”
“Me too, me too.”
Arty mumbled awkwardly.
“…H-Haha. It was just luck that I held out.”
Lydia watched the scene with satisfaction. It resembled a late-game reputation event from the original story.
It’s like an athlete who won a medal being welcomed by politicians regardless of party lines. Is this the power of national pride?
Only two trials remained. If Arty passed both, he would become the official Hero. Just like Aria… he would gain authority unbound by social status.
Regardless of their feelings, it is also a prerequisite for completely breaking free from those wretched events and characters.
Lydia made up her mind.
“…”
Without fail. She would see it through. Believe in her.
*
Albert, Raoul, and Edrian had gathered in a meeting room in the corner of the chapel. They were supposed to discuss the Hero’s Trial, but the discussion never progressed. Cardinal Albert eventually slammed his fist on the table. The sound echoed loudly in the small room.
Bang!
Cardinal Albert cried out in frustration—an unusually direct display of emotion from him.
“Prayer Priest!”
“What is it?”
“At this rate, the Theocracy’s authority will be undermined!”
“If its authority can be undermined by something so trivial, it would be better off without it. How could there be eternal authority beneath the sun?”
“…”
Albert’s fist trembled. For a brief moment, he felt the urge to strike the old man hard.
Sun God…
Edrian spoke curtly.
“The Hero’s Trial is a proxy trial of the Sun God. There will be no changes or compromises regarding its contents. Altering the trial simply because the candidate is stronger than expected is absurd.”
“…”
“Rather than having this pathetic discussion, it would be better to go assist the students with their scripture interpretation class. I shall take my leave.”
Edrian left the meeting room. A cold silence filled the space. Albert and Raoul wore expressionless faces.
“…”
“…”
Again and again, something was going wrong somewhere. That was how they felt about the situation.