Training - 2
“Pleased to meet you, Saint.”
It was the first thing she heard upon entering Trevo’s laboratory.
Rene jolted in surprise at the voice, then bowed her head slightly toward its direction.
“Hello.”
“It’s truly an honor to meet you like this. You’ve come to learn divine arts, I presume?”
“Yes.”
“You must be tired from the long journey. I’m Trevo, and starting today, I’ll be the one teaching you divine arts, Your Holiness.”
“Ah, I’m Rene. The knight has told me so much about you. You’re… quite the unique fellow!”
“Has Sir Vera been speaking of me? My, how embarrassing.”
The voice brimmed with energy. From the tone alone, Rene could sense that Trevo was an extraordinarily lively person.
But amid that liveliness, a question arose in her mind.
‘Why is he so faint?’
Even as he spoke with such vigor, sensing Trevo’s presence was strangely difficult. It reminded her of something Vera had once said. Without the sound of his voice, she might not have been able to perceive Trevo’s existence at all. With Vera’s guidance, Rene slowly made her way to the table at the center of the laboratory and sat down.
Vera seated Rene in the chair, then shot a sharp glare at Trevo, who had been grinning ear to ear until that moment.
A warning look that said: Don’t pull any nonsense.
In response, Trevo—who had been thoroughly thrashed by Vera two days prior, leaving his eyes swollen like ripe plums—flinched, managed an awkward smile, and nodded.
“Ahem, then, since Your Holiness must have a busy schedule, shall we get straight to the point?”
“Ah, yes.”
“No need to be nervous. What I’ll teach you today is just basic theory—nothing too difficult.”
His words were meant to reassure her. Yet Rene couldn’t quite relax, her mind plagued by worries of messing up, and she nodded.
And there was another concern weighing on her.
“Um, it’s not too late for me to learn divine arts at my age, is it?”
She recalled something old man Pepé, the village know-it-all, had once said. Mages were the utmost elite, receiving genius training before they even turned five. Viewing divine arts in a similar light, Rene posed the question, and Trevo responded without hesitation.
“Not late at all. Hmm, to explain that, I should start with divine power itself.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve had no prior education in this…”
“Your Holiness has nothing to apologize for. No one knows everything from the start, after all.”
Chuckle, chuckle. The words came with a light laugh.
Rene offered an awkward smile and nodded. Trevo glanced at her, then continued in a gentle, measured tone.
“How much do you know about divine power and mana, Your Holiness?”
“Um… Mana is energy from nature, and divine power is power granted by the gods?”
Her uncertain tone trailed off. It was only natural—Rene had never encountered such concepts in her life, making both divine power and mana feel like distant, alien ideas.
“Hmm, half right and half wrong.”
“Hehe… I see.”
A sheepish expression crossed Rene’s face. Trevo chuckled again at the sight and pressed on with his explanation.
“You got the mana part right. Mana is an intangible energy source diffused throughout the atmosphere.”
“Ah, glad I got that half correct.”
“Yes, that’s the right half. The wrong half is about divine power. It’s not power received from the gods.”
“Pardon?”
Rene’s head tilted at the unexpected statement. If it wasn’t power from the gods, then what was divine power?
As puzzlement deepened on her face, Trevo explained patiently.
“Simply put, divine power is a mutated form of mana. It’s mana that has taken on the property of ‘divine power’ within the body.”
A rather vague notion.
“Then why call it divine power?”
“Because that mutated property carries the essence of the divine realm. That’s why it bears the name.”
“Oh…”
“This isn’t widely known. Research on divine power is still in its early stages. To elaborate a bit more, because of this trait, many who possess it don’t pledge themselves as priests. The Empire’s healing sorcerers are a prime example.”
“Ah, I’ve heard of that.”
“Indeed. They dismiss divine power as mere mutated mana and sever ties with divine reverence. The Holy Kingdom doesn’t impose sanctions on such people.”
The tales of the Empire’s healing sorcerers were famous enough that even Rene knew them. Of course, the backstory was news to her today.
“Is that alright? What if someone misuses divine power?”
“Not the Holy Kingdom’s concern. We serve the gods, not manage divine power. The responsibility for its use lies with the individual.”
Rene felt a strange unease at his words. They rang true at their core, yet hearing them from a priest felt oddly off-putting. It stemmed from her preconceptions of the Holy Kingdom as a secretive, insular nation—one that would surely crack down on such things.
Trevo nodded slightly, watching her come to terms with it, then smiled warmly to steer the conversation back.
“I’ve strayed off-topic. To return to the point: divine power differs from mana in its properties, so it doesn’t require the systematic education of magic. If you’re born with the aptitude, learning it is quite straightforward.”
“What a relief…”
Whoosh. A sigh of relief escaped Rene’s lips.
“No need to fear. Sir Vera himself only began learning divine arts at around your age, so I’m sure Your Holiness will do just fine.”
“Ah, come to think of it…”
She vaguely recalled hearing something like that. Rene turned her head toward where Vera stood.
“Then, by the time I’m the knight’s age, will I be able to wield divine power like he does?”
Thump, thump. Her heart quickened slightly.
Thinking of becoming like Vera naturally triggered the response. But Trevo’s reply swiftly quelled the fluttering.
He spoke in a somewhat troubled tone. “Well… matching Sir Vera might be a bit difficult.”
“…Pardon?”
“Sir Vera is…”
Trevo’s gaze shifted to Vera. He met the man’s impassive stare and continued.
“…exceptionally, extraordinarily talented.”
Trevo despised false hope, which was why he said it outright. Vera was a monster. How else to describe someone who, on his first visit asking about divine arts, took a handful of introductory texts and invented his own unique technique? Trevo had been stunned upon learning of it. Even he—a former candidate for Tower Master—couldn’t have done that. Academically, he might surpass Vera, but in raw application of divine arts, no one in the Holy Kingdom save the Holy Emperor could rival him.
“I… see…”
Rene’s voice sank, tinged with disappointment.
Vera glared at Trevo, eyes wide. Why dampen her spirits with needless words? Haven’t I beaten you enough?
As Vera stared daggers, Trevo flinched and shrank back. With a heavy sigh, Vera turned to Rene and spoke in a calm tone.
“You don’t need to match me, Your Holiness. You have your own role, one only you can fulfill. Pay it no mind.”
“B-But…”
“I’m here for the things Your Holiness cannot do. I’ll always stand by your side, ensuring you never feel lacking. So, chin up.”
Thud.Rene’s heart plummeted—or so it felt.
Always together. Those words had set it off again. The inexplicable reaction surged, heat flooding her body. Her head spun as she nodded jerkily.
“Y-Yes! Understood…!”
Her throat felt broken; the words stumbled out.
Trevo gaped at the scene, his face blank. He’d never seen Vera like that. The Vera he knew wasn’t this person. Naturally, the thought arose: This must be a fake Vera. The real one beat me black and blue two days ago and then left on dispatch. So what was thisVera? As Trevo stared, Vera had already schooled his features into a fierce scowl.
Vera’s lips moved soundlessly: ‘Eyes. Down.’
Trevo’s eyes dropped. He was a man who learned from experience—and ignoring that warning meant more beatings later.
Across the table, the pair radiated opposing auras in a bizarre standoff. Vera shattered the tension.
“Now, let’s continue the lesson. Trevo.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Carry on.”
Trevo nodded. “R-Right! Let’s proceed. Shall we start with basic manipulation of divine power?”
“Yes!”
The lesson continued. Yet the air in the room hung heavy with awkwardness.
*
“Then, Your Holiness, until tomorrow. Have a peaceful night.”
“Ah, yes. Take care on your way back.”
At the entrance to Rene’s quarters, she bid farewell to Vera, who had escorted her, then took Helga’s hand.
“You’ve worked hard today.”
Her distinctive accent was as peculiar as ever. Rene nodded, wondering how she’d even made it this far in her daze.
“Sh-Shall we go in?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Tap.Rene’s cane struck the ground.
Thump. Thump. Her heart was still racing.
Gripping Helga’s hand and tapping her cane, Rene walked inside. Unable to calm the persistent flutter, she finally blurted to Helga, “Um, Helga?”
“Yes, ma’am? What is it?”
“Um… Ever since I arrived at the Holy Kingdom—no, since leaving the village—my body’s been feeling strange…”
“How so?”
“My heart keeps racing for no reason, little things get under my skin, I feel hot all over…”
She listed the symptoms in a rush. But she couldn’t quite add the key detail: when I’m near Vera. To her, it sounded just like illness.
Of course, she didn’t realize it herself. Helga tilted her head at the litany, scrutinizing Rene’s flushed complexion.
“Must be the changing seasons making you unwell. You’ve been through a lot, so it makes sense.”
“R-Really?”
“Yes, ma’am. Just in case, I’ll fetch a priest tomorrow.”
“Ah, thank you.”
Rene smiled, thinking, See? I was just overreacting.
In truth, her reactions were so blatant that even a cursory glance would reveal they weren’t illness—but Helga remained oblivious.
Regrettably, she hadn’t inherited her father Norn’s sharp instincts.