An Ancient Longing (11)
Master? Your face is all stiff. You should smile. Come on, smile~ What if we get caught? “...”
This bastard. I thought he was suddenly speaking normally, but he was just building up to this. So you chose me as the new master because I look exactly like the previous one? And now you’re trying to climb all over me after saying that?
The sneering expression I saw reflected in the red gem that had come right up to my face was definitely not my imagination. Grind.
-Kek! Master! It hurts! You put in more power than usual…
“You got caught today. How dare you try to climb over me? Fine. Your master will carve exactly what kind of person she is into your body.”
Whoever made El-Asat did a damn good job. No matter how much I bend or twist it, the thing snaps right back. El-Asat seems to feel pain, but that’s not my problem. Maybe the previous master deliberately designed it this way so I could train the idiot every time he spouted nonsense? It was a pretty convincing theory.
-Ack! Kek! Grk! El-Asat is dying! My ego! My ego is collapsing!
Collapsing my ass. The fact that he could still talk nonsense meant I hadn’t twisted it enough. Crack.
-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!
-Jingle jingle jingle!
Only after a sound that definitely shouldn’t have come from a spear rang out did El-Asat finally start begging for forgiveness. Hmph. Should’ve done that from the start.
-Damn it. I was hoping it wasn’t true, but it really is. Guess I have no choice but to accept it.
Some meaningful-sounding words slipped out, but I ignored them. Probably more nonsense. Stupid spear bastard… wait, that sounds weird. Anyway, now that I’d stepped on the arrogant El-Asat, it was time to think about the first Saintess.
Slurp.
“Ugh. No matter how many times I drink this, I just can’t get used to it.”
I took a sip of tea to wake my brain up while organizing my thoughts and immediately regretted it. The food in this world was mostly similar to Earth’s, but the tea was disgustingly bitter. The more expensive it was, the worse it got. I’m not exactly a tea expert in either of my lives, but this crossed a line. Sure, I prefer sweet things, but I could handle espresso back on Earth. Who decided that the more bitter it is, the higher the grade?
“Benika. Change it to cocoa.”
“I cannot.”
Goddamn it.
“Lady Levia, it would be better to think of it as training and drink it. You know how stubborn Benika is.”
“What am I training my tongue and throat for? Is this practice for enduring torture? They’re not going to use tea during torture, are they?”
It’s not like they’re pouring it up someone’s nose like in those cold countries or anything.
“Hm? They do, though?”
Are you insane? Why would they use it? Why is the black tea torture trope actually real here?
“Um… what should I say at a time like this?”
While I was left speechless by the absurd fact that tea was used for torture in this world, Mint was staring at me, deep in thought.
“What?”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have two mothers?”
“Crazy bitch.”
She actually said that out loud.
“Why are you swearing at me!”
Why? Because you deserve it, that’s why.
“Be honest. You just wanted an excuse to say that line, didn’t you?”
“Ehehe…”
See? She totally deserves to be cursed at. Stop laughing. I’m being serious here.
“But it’s not wrong, is it? If what El-Asat said is true, doesn’t that mean the first Saintess is your mother in this life?”
“Hm. Couldn’t there be other possibilities? Magic and alchemy exist, after all.”
“Ah.”
Mint caught on immediately, but Benika and Cheska looked like they didn’t quite understand. It was a shame Skadi wasn’t here—she would have been another person who got it right away.
Another possibility. That I might be a clone of the first Saintess, or a homunculus. Given the precedent of the Alchemy Hero Eric, it wasn’t completely impossible. From Eric’s letter, I could infer that homunculi weren’t beings with their own souls but existences that inherited thoughts and memories.
So. If I were a homunculus or something similar… was I really ‘me’?
It felt a little more plausible than the theory that I was the daughter of someone from eight thousand years ago. Maybe I wasn’t a reincarnator but… a possessor? Not in the sense of entering a novel or game I’d read or played, but in a purely conceptual way. Like my soul had entered an empty vessel without a soul of its own.
Once that uneasy question took root, one name rose to the surface.
“Ludvia.”
The name I’d heard the first time I absorbed a Divine Stone. A person—or entity—connected to my memories before I was five years old.
“Hm? Who?”
Cheska and Benika had probably heard it before. I wasn’t sure if they remembered, but it would be Mint’s first time.
“I need to find Ludvia.”
I knew nothing but the name, yet I had a strong feeling that if I found that being called Ludvia and learned about her, I would understand both the first Saintess and ‘myself.’ Maybe that existence known as Ludvia was the first Saintess.
“Cheska. Where’s Benedict?”
Benedict might know. Who Ludvia was. Luckily, Benika’s tedious and painful tea-time manners class was almost over. I was about to head straight to Benedict when—
“Master, this Skadi has just returned.”
Skadi, who had disappeared on my request, came back.
“Did you find anything?”
“…There is nothing. No trace of the eighth Saintess candidate exists anywhere.”
I had asked Skadi to track down the eighth Saintess candidate, Asurta. A holy law that absorbs other people’s divine power? I couldn’t just leave such a suspicious existence alone. Seeing her trick someone like Gregcio into trying to summon that so-called true god or whatever, she was clearly nothing but trouble. From what she’d said to Gregcio, she seemed connected to the Chaos Church, but… whether that was unfortunate or fortunate, she didn’t appear to be directly affiliated. To be precise, the connection felt vague. That was because the unique, disgusting aura emitted by those related to the Chaos Church or their victims couldn’t be felt anywhere in the papal palace—including where Gregcio had been staying.
On top of that, she was skilled enough that even Skadi couldn’t detect her. If left alone, she would cause a massive incident. Should I put off the full-scale search for Ludvia until after I dealt with Asurta?
“You deserve to receive your ‘punishment’ immediately, but delivering this news first takes priority. Congratulations, Master.”
“Huh? Suddenly?”
What the hell is this about punishment and congratulations?
“You have become one of the richest people on the continent.”
“Eh?”
Spouting incomprehensible words, Skadi handed me a newspaper.
“Here is the paper.”
Those old men. I wondered why I hadn’t seen them for a few days, but it turns out they went completely crazy and stormed the Moneylord Merchant Group. I could picture it clearly without even trying. ‘How dare they! Try to mess with! Our Lady Levia! Erase them from this world!’ They probably charged in screaming stuff like that. Those guys really are the best in the world at making a fuss.
I wish they’d change the name of that knight order, though.
I read the next article.
Wait, Jacob. You weren’t just a member of the Moneylord family—you were the heir?! A diamond spoon, not even a gold one! No wonder you gave me so much allowance! What a good person! Now that I know this, you’re even better! They say kindness on Earth only goes as far as pork, but if it’s Jacob, it’d probably be beef!
“Eh…?”
What merchant group? What do you mean, everything you own?
What is this? The merchant group that controlled half the continent’s trade is mine? Am I dreaming?
Lumenhart, First Parish of Eliac.
Though it was only called the First Parish in name, this place was practically the capital. Because the papal palace was located here, it was filled with all kinds of barriers and emergency escape routes. However, those who created the escape routes seemed to have grown greedy, wanting to look after only their own descendants. They built hidden escape routes and shelters without submitting them in any official documents and then concealed them completely.
In one of those shelters, Benedict took half a step forward and opened his mouth.
“I thought I was the only one who could change my appearance.”
“How ridiculous.”
“Aren’t you ashamed? The last survivor of the Light Clan claims to be hiding in the darkness.”
Snap!
Benedict flicked his fingers, driving out the darkness that had been slowly filling the shelter. What appeared was a girl with deep green hair and green eyes. Rather than fresh green leaves, she reminded one of a murky swamp.
“Correction. I thought I was the last survivor. Until I met you.”
“Do not correct yourself. You are not of the Light Clan.”
“What?”
“It means a traitor to the clan should not speak the name of light.”
“Do you still believe in and follow that false god?”
“…I suspected, but I never imagined Asurta would be you.”
“You’re not answering.”
At Asurta’s sneer, Benedict laughed refreshingly and replied.
“Because there is no meaning in it. Neither you nor I are ‘of the Light Clan’ anymore, are we?”
“...”
“We may no longer be of the Light Clan, but the sins you committed have not disappeared.”
“I enlightened them! I freed them from their foolish yoke!”
“Then you should have died too.”
“What!”
“If death is salvation, you should have hanged yourself first instead of struggling in fear like this.”
“I have a mission! For the true god, I must save even more people…!”
“You saw her, didn’t you?”
“!!!!”
“Did you think I wouldn’t remember? The face of the wretch who begged the Saintess to spare her life so pathetically?”
“Shut up!”
“Your face then and now are exactly the same. You filthy worm.”
Consumed by rage, Asurta released her divine power. The holy energy that poured from her hands like threads carried a ferocious aura as it lashed out to tear Benedict apart.
“How dare you! How dare you!!!!! A mere low-ranking warrior dares—!!!!!!!!”
“It’s better than you, who saw a face and ran away pissing yourself!”
Benedict had noticed long ago that Asurta was under some kind of misunderstanding, but he deliberately did not correct her. It wasn’t that he saw no need… but because ‘half of it was correct.’ It would have been inaccurate to call it a complete delusion. Above all, it was better that she remained mistaken. It was better for this being who went by the alias Asurta to be afraid. That way, even if Benedict himself were defeated here, her actions would be restricted.
“Die! Die! I will kill you and absorb you to regain what is mine! My power! My ‘wings’!”
“That will not happen! A traitor to the clan like you will fall deep into this earth!”
Benedict faced Asurta with bold provocation, but he knew the truth. Victory was not solely on his side. The one before him was an existence that had devoured the divine power of girls who had risen to the level of Saintess candidates. In terms of pure volume of divine power, she probably had more than Levia. Even so, Benedict had to stop Asurta here. That was why he had tracked the traces only he could find and come to this shelter.
Benedict had hoped Levia’s seal would remain closed as long as possible. Once it was released, she would inevitably be dragged into the fight between those who wished to destroy the world and those who wished to protect it, even if she didn’t want to. But the seal had already been broken, and now another seal was beginning to come undone. This one had to be delayed. If it opened, everything would spiral completely out of control.
Benedict wanted Levia to enjoy even a little more peace. Just a little longer. That was one of his long-cherished wishes. No matter what anyone said, right now—she was his daughter.