A Clue and a Late Return
Benika Arendia (1)
Twilight had faded, and darkness was beginning to blanket the sky. In a modest but neatly kept room, a girl was changing out of blood-stained clothes and into clean ones. Anyone seeing the blood might have assumed she had been badly injured, but the stains on the discarded garments were not her own. They belonged to the patients she had been tending until moments ago.
Once she had finished changing and looked presentable again, the girl considered taking a bath to wash away the sweat of the day, but the lodging house only allowed bathing at certain hours. She settled for a quick wash at the small basin in her room.
She had just tossed the bloodied clothes into the laundry basket when a knock sounded at the door.
“Lady Benika, candidate for Saintess. It is Ryolke.”
“You may come in, Sir Ryolke.”
At her permission, the man entered. Ryolke Pupitear was the holy knight assigned to guard the eleventh Saintess candidate, Benika Arendia.
“You’ve worked hard again today, Lady Benika.”
“I’ve told you before—the title is far too long. At least when we’re alone, just call me Benika.”
Benika puffed out her cheeks in clear displeasure. The sight was rather endearing.
“Ahaha. Even if my skills are lacking, I am still the guard knight of a Saintess candidate. Principles must be upheld.”
At Ryolke’s sheepish laugh, Benika let out a small chuckle of her own.
“So, what brings you here? I’m still a long way from sleep, you know.”
She asked playfully. Her guard knight, Ryolke, spent his days entrusting her protection to other knights and stood watch outside her door from night until dawn.
“Haha. If that is what you wish, Lady Benika, I shall begin my guard duty right now.”
Ryolke matched her playful tone.
“Hmph, enough. Just tell me why you’re here.”
“I have several matters to report.”
“What are they?”
“We received word from the Turel diocese. Cardinal Dominic will be visiting.”
“Now that you mention it, it is about time. I keep telling him he doesn’t need to come so often. He really is an incorrigible father.”
A natural smile rose to Benika’s lips as she thought of Dominic, the doting adoptive father who treated her like his own daughter.
Ryolke continued his report—minor updates about their current location, how many had been injured, how many had unfortunately passed away…
“And this is the final report…”
For some reason, Ryolke hesitated.
“Sir Ryolke?”
“We found them.”
“What…?”
“The information guild we commissioned contacted us today. They have located the person Lady Benika has been searching for.”
“Is… is that true?!”
Benika’s voice rang out sharply. All traces of her earlier gentleness and playfulness had vanished, replaced by nothing but fury.
“Where? Where is that person?!”
“I understand how you feel, Lady Benika, but please calm yourself.”
“Calm down? That person…!”
“I know. But I have nothing more to tell you beyond what I’ve already said.”
“What do you mean…?”
“They only sent word. The actual information has not yet been handed over. The guild’s rule is to deliver information directly to the client.”
“Ah…”
Only then did Benika rein in her emotions. She apologized to Ryolke for her outburst.
“I’m sorry, Sir Ryolke. I must have gotten too worked up.”
“Not at all. I would have reacted the same way in your position.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Ryolke offered her a gentle smile and soothed the still-apologetic Benika.
“It’s only a single lead we’ve finally obtained. I would have liked to arrange a meeting for you tomorrow if possible, but they said it would be difficult for now due to their own circumstances.”
“Then… when can we meet?”
“They said it would take about two weeks… They will contact us first.”
“That might overlap with the time Father is staying here.”
“Yes, it seems so.”
Benika resolved to find a way. She doubted her adoptive father, Cardinal Dominic, would approve of her secretly contacting an information guild.
“Then I shall take my leave, Lady Benika.”
“Thank you, Sir Ryolke. Please bear with it a little longer.”
Ryolke answered with a smile and left the room.
Alone once more, Benika walked silently to her bed and retrieved a small box hidden beside it. Inside lay an old bracelet, its gold and black colors intertwined. She took it out and fastened it onto her right arm.
The moment the bracelet touched her skin, Benika’s heart grew calm—and sorrowful.
“Mother… At last… At last, I’ve found a clue.”
A droplet fell onto her slender arm adorned with the bracelet. Her tears.
“I… will definitely find the one who did that to you…”
The bracelet was the last memento her mother had left behind. Every time she wore it, Benika whispered the same vow so she would never forget that day.
“I’ll have my revenge. Without fail.”
“Huff… huff…”
“Well done! Just one more!”
“Ugh…! Grandfather, you said ‘just one more’ earlier too…!”
“Hm? This old man’s memory isn’t what it used to be. Come on, one more!”
Damn it! This grandfather is unbelievable!!!
It had been four weeks—exactly a month—since I began what I had named “Divine Muscle Training.” A few things had changed since I started living here.
First, I had grown much closer to Grandfather Carlo. Through that process, I had managed—by way of a thinly veiled threat—to get him to drop the formal speech with me. The elderly man had insisted on addressing me as “Lady Saintess Candidate” no matter how uncomfortable it made me, so I threatened never to speak to him again. He surrendered immediately. Truly, nothing in this world is absolute. Still, I never expected such a ridiculous threat to actually work.
“Good! Well done! One more!”
“Grandfather! Do you know how many times you’ve said ‘one more’ now? This is the 108th! Just tell me to do two hundred!”
“Oho. Our Levia is clever as always! Then two hundred it is!”
Ah, I should have just stayed quiet.
The next change was that, as a result of gradually increasing the training intensity, I could now sense mana. However, it wasn’t my own mana I could feel—it was everyone else’s. I had achieved half of my training goal, so I decided to be content with that for now. If I kept training, maybe one day I would have mana of my own. Even if I didn’t, I would at least grow stronger, not weaker. I could worry about the rest later.
“198… 199… 200!! Done!”
Thud! I set down the barbell after completing the two hundred repetitions I had promised Grandfather Carlo.
“Splendid! You need to handle at least this much if you want to become a Saintess! Indeed!”
“Don’t say such terrifying things.”
Why does this grandfather always end his compliments with something insulting? I’m hurt.
“Now then…”
The third change was that I had become able to use my divine power in more varied ways. Well, it was less a change and more growth. I was still clumsy, but with continued practice and familiarity, I would get used to it. After all, I had someone to help me.
“Heh heh… How do you plan to face this old man today?”
Grandfather Carlo would help through sparring—a fast and reliable method.
“Hmm… Yesterday we focused on speed, so today I want to try something heavier.”
“Hmph! When it comes to strength, this old man won’t lose to anyone!”
Sparring with Grandfather was the most enjoyable part of my day. It was the one time I could use and experiment with everything I had learned without worrying about the backlash the next day.
Just as I was about to remove my training artifact for today’s match…
“Lady Levia! Old man!”
A message that was really an interruption arrived.
“The Cardinal and Sir Frang have returned!”
Benedict and Cheska, who were supposed to return in about two weeks, had taken nearly a month. Leaving their daughter alone for an entire month—how cruel.
“Heh heh. A shame, but let us postpone the sparring and go greet them.”
Yes, it was a shame, but it couldn’t be helped. Even if we weren’t connected by blood, my father—and my guard knight—had returned.
“There is no need. They said they would come straight here.”
Hmph! Yes, after neglecting his daughter for a month, a father should come to her! Of course!
If I were an ordinary girl, I would have sulked for at least a month. Not that I’m sulking. I’m not. …Correction. I think I will sulk after all.
How could a father—after saying it would take two weeks—neglect his daughter for a month, and then the first thing he says upon returning is—
“Levia, have you been studying the prayer diligently?”
“You said two weeks, came back after a month, and that’s the first thing you say to your daughter? Isn’t that a bit much?”
How could that possibly be a homework check?!
“…You didn’t do it.”
This is too much! You fail as a father! I’m angry! I’m going to be angry! Absolutely! Positively! It’s not because my conscience is pricked and I’m pretending to be mad. It’s not.
“B… Bout said we should do something else first!”
“Don’t lie, Levia. And I can tell you’re not really angry.”
…Damn it. This is why I hate perceptive adults.