Chapter 13
The grounds of Aruen Academy grew noisy again beneath the fully risen sun. The cadets leaving their dormitories in uniform wore expressions as bright as the morning sun.
“Good morning, Senior Jeff!”
“Ah, Nella. Good morning to you, too.”
“You’re carrying that crate of materials so gallantly today. Last year, you could barely lug around your textbooks. You’ve become quite the fine young man, Senior.”
“Hmph. You’ve gotten quite good at flattery for a commoner from the Republic. It would’ve been nice if you’d improved just as much at memorizing the alchemy periodic table.”
“You’re teasing me again? The Kingdom of Gallia and the Republic of Arcana have different class systems!”
“I still don’t understand the difference between an ‘aristocratic republic’ and a ‘nobles’ council.’ But I do know that blue and green magic ore require different catalyst ratios.”
“Honestly! How long are you going to tease me about that mistake?”
“Let me think about it until we get to the shopping district.”
“Sigh.”
The atmosphere was so warm that even the line between nobles and commoners seemed to disappear. It was a remarkable sight, one you could only see at an academy that upheld the banner of ‘equality.’
The tension between the various factions had also subsided.
-Hmph, I’ll be generous and let those nouveau riche reformists get away with making a racket today.
-The nobles’ faction is strangely quiet. Let’s pretend we don’t notice, either.
-I suppose even the Republic’s apostates deserve mercy today.
-Those Holy Theocracy fanatics are being awfully tame. Have they finally managed to get some sense into their heads?
Even when they would normally have picked a fight, they let things slide.
Every cadet wore a smile. Classes were still grueling in every department, but perhaps they looked so cheerful because passion was burning in their hearts.
In truth,
that wasn’t it.
The reason all the cadets were in such a good mood—
was that they had no classes today.
The annual ‘Sun’s Sabbath’ week that came around every spring.
A precious, precious week-long holiday.
In the Southern Continent, where the concept of weekends didn’t exist, it was an especially precious holiday.
-But the Republic’s people don’t believe in the One God Church, do they?
-Shut up. We want a day off, too.
That was why everyone—from first- to third-year cadets, graduates and researchers, assistants and instructors—wore benevolent smiles. Even when they bumped shoulders, they simply smiled and exchanged blessings.
On those grounds, filled with blessings,
Arti and Aria sat side by side on a bench.
Aria dabbed holy water on Arti’s injuries as she tended to him. Then she gave his constantly twitching shoulder a light tap.
“Hold still.”
“Eep! Saintess, th-that hurts.”
“It’s the holy water invigorating your body. Bear with it.”
“I don’t think I could use this in a dungeon battle. I’d fall over from the pain while running.”
“I heard one of the brothers in the Holy Knights actually fainted once.”
“Really? It must’ve been a fierce battle.”
“No, he mistook the holy water for ordinary water while washing his face that morning, and got it in his eyes.”
“….”
Lydia was reading on the bench beside them. As she turned a page, she glanced at Arti’s face. The marks of his defeat were still there.
‘In the end, Mave thoroughly trounced him in their spar. I suppose that’s only natural, since the fight with the skeletal rider was closer to exploiting the Sacred Sword’s advantage than a straight-up battle. Mave’s spent over five years fighting, if you count her time as a squire.’
Mave was beautiful, but she was a heroine who had grown up among rough men from early childhood. Even so, she still retained a girl’s innocent nature.
As a result, she often showed a rather unguarded side of herself as a woman.
-Eek, Mave! Why are you suddenly wiping your sweat on your shirt?!
-What’s it to you, Arti? I’ll wipe it off however I want.
-You’re showing your stomach!
-Honestly, you country bumpkins are always pretending to be nobles.
The reason for that was quite simple.
‘…The Vow of Chastity. When this was a game, it was just one of those grown-up decisions made to comply with the censorship rules for an adult game.’
The Vow of Chastity—until their twentieth year, young women were protected by angels and the gods.
Even Princess Lydia herself—regardless of the fact that she was actually a Sword Master—had used it as her strongest justification for enrolling at the academy with only a single maid in tow.
If this had been the actual Middle Ages,
it would have been unthinkable, even for an abandoned royal.
She probably would have been locked away in the palace before she could do anything, then married off to a high-ranking noble of another country.
“….”
Lydia quietly placed a hand over her chest.
Beneath the rather daring curve of her top, she could feel the sacred energy of the Vow of Chastity. Thanks to that energy, she could reject every bothersome proposal involving marriage and the like on the grounds of her royal status.
‘I used to complain that this was a contrived setting to protect the heroines outside the game. Now that it’s real, it’s turned out to be pretty convenient. It’s made everyone so open-minded, too.’
With the powerful protection of the gods guaranteed, fantasy medieval folk would laugh things off even if a girl wore a Japanese otaku-style school uniform skirt or dated before marriage.
Of course, if she kept doing that after her coming-of-age ceremony,
that was when they’d really bring out the bamboo spears.
‘That’s why even those Republic types who claim mana is godless make use of the Vow of Chastity.’
Of course, as befitted a world inside an adult game, there were still people who abused it. That was simply an inescapable part of human nature.
“….”
Lydia raised her head again and looked at Arti and Aria.
Arti seemed unable to stand the tickling sensation. He touched the cut on his cheek with a pained expression, but Aria slapped his hand away and continued applying holy water.
“Ow! Oww.”
“If you keep touching your wound with hands that have been in the dirt, the impurity on them will slowly seep inside.”
“I-impurity? Isn’t dirt good?”
“Those filthy demons… Ahem. The boundary between the Dark Realm and the Material Realm is the earth. And earth is the element farthest from the sacred heavens and the sun. That’s why a little of the energy of death and the impurity of the Dark Realm is mixed into the earth. It’s why humans, unlike angels, grow old and sick as they eat and drink from the ground.”
“Hmm, I think I’ve heard priests say something like that…”
“That’s right! It’s the most basic knowledge of the One God Church!”
Aria nodded emphatically. She seemed very glad that Arti had received his general education at the temple from a young age. Little by little, she was dyeing him in the colors of the One God Church(?).
“So from now on, Hero, don’t touch your wounds with dirt-covered hands when you get hurt. Make sure you wash them with holy water, then apply some holy water.”
“Wouldn’t it be faster to heal it with a holy spell?”
“Naughty! You’ll get in trouble for bothering the Sun God over a tiny little scratch!”
“…Yes.”
Lydia listened to their conversation and chuckled.
It was like a husband being dragged to church by his wife.
‘What’s more, it’s funny how this reasoning, armed with pure fanaticism, is combined with surprisingly rational knowledge. I guess science is closely tied to faith in a world where gods actually exist.’
At that moment, Mave made a grand entrance.
She had changed out of her training clothes and into her uniform. Even Mave, who only acted girlish when she felt like it, looked all the more feminine in a skirt.
Mave looked at Arti and gave him a satisfied grin.
“Bwahaha! Country bumpkin! You look like a mess!”
“Shut up, stupid knight. You’re the one grinning like an idiot.”
Aria promptly smacked Arti on the arm. She had started treating Mave naturally as a friend by now.
“How can you speak so rudely to Mave?!”
“S-sorry…”
“Even if you’re close, please avoid harsh words that might give others a false impression of the Hero’s kindness and gentleness.”
“…”
‘But you called them filthy demons just a moment ago…’
But he couldn’t say that.
Arti sheepishly scratched his head.
“I didn’t expect her to suddenly grab the blade of my sword, trap me with her elbow, and throw me. How many times did I roll over, anyway?”
“Bwahaha! That’s basic hand-to-hand combat from the Royal Knights! You’ve learned the Northern Gallian elite unit’s practical swordsmanship, yet you don’t even know that?”
“The Northern elite unit…? Practical swordsmanship?”
“Honestly!”
Mave neatly furrowed her brows and looked at Lydia.
“Lady Lydia, your teachings are far too generous for that country bumpkin. Doesn’t he realize how great a kindness you’ve shown him?!”
“Don’t say that. In the end, isn’t the value of swordsmanship determined not by the art itself, but by the effort and skill of the one who wields it?”
“But—!”
“Come sit beside me instead. The wind is chilly.”
“Y-yes. It would be an honor.”
Mave tucked her black hair behind her ear, brought her legs together, and slipped onto the bench beside Lydia. It was quite a different look from the girl who seemed not to care if her skirt flipped up or not.
Lydia closed her book.
Mave tilted her head.
“What are you reading?”
“A book on the prices of medicinal herbs and how to care for them.”
“O-oh, I see…”
Mave tried to respond, but hesitated when she couldn’t think of anything to say. Lydia smiled at her.
“I was making one last check to see if the herbs we gathered in the dungeon last time had been properly stored.”
“L-last time. The undead dungeon… Ugh.”
Mave lowered her head, her face slightly red. Though she had won their spar at dawn, it seemed that wasn’t enough to erase her defeat in the dungeon.
The battle with the skeletal rider and the awakening of the Sacred Sword.
The incident had greatly diminished Mave’s standing, despite her being the strongest first-year in the Swordsmanship Department and a star cadet from the Royal Knights. As a result, she had ended up wandering around alone.
When some upperclassmen from the Swordsmanship Department standing beside the bench shot her a sidelong glare, Mave hunched her shoulders slightly. But when they saw the princess’s face, they pretended not to notice and walked on.
“….”
“….”
Before Mave could grow dejected again, Lydia spoke.
“Don’t let it get you down. Reputations are always changing, after all. Don’t cling to the attention of people who’ll abandon you over one mistake. You should believe in yourself.”
“Y-yes! You’re right!”
Mave gave a slightly bitter smile. No matter how accustomed she was to proving herself under the eyes of others, it was a great comfort to have someone accept her without wavering.
“Thank you so much. I always feel at ease when I talk with you, Lady Lydia.”
“…I’m glad to hear it.”
Even amid such a heartwarming conversation,
the one thing that finally got a reaction from Arti—whose injuries had now healed—was a single phrase.
“That’s right, the red herbs! It’s only been half a month, and I almost forgot all about them.”
“Fortunately, I read that drying them for about ten days after neutralizing the death energy was a sure way to keep them safe. It was probably a good thing you forgot about them.”
“That’s a relief. And it’s lucky Lydia’s dorm room is one of the few private rooms, so we could dry the herbs there…”
Aria spoke with an apologetic expression.
“I’m sorry, Lydia. My room is private, too, but the holy relics and holy water might have turned the red herbs completely to powder, so I couldn’t help.”
“What? No! It isn’t your fault, Saintess.”
“That’s right. Straighten your shoulders, Aria. This isn’t a matter of responsibility, only of dividing up the roles.”
Mave was horrified when she heard their conversation.
“C-country bumpkin! You insolent fool! You actually used a royal’s bedroom as a workshop for drying herbs—?!”
“No, Lydia was the one who took them there…”
“That’s right. I gathered them myself.”
Lydia rose from her seat and said,
“Since we’ve brought it up, I’ll go get the bundles of red herbs from my dorm. Arti, Aria, Mave, do you have anything planned afterward?”
“No.”
“I’m free today, too.”
“No, Your Highness!”
“Good. Then let’s sell these red herbs and use the money at the shopping district.”
Arti’s eyes went wide.
“D-do you mean the Kingdom’s special steak…?”
“That’s right. We’ll sell the herbs to the Alchemy Guild, then have a meal.”
“Oh!”
Lydia looked at Aria and said,
“Since it’s the Sabbath, the shopping district must have prepared some events. After we’ve all eaten, you ‘two’ can take your time looking around and enjoying yourselves.”
“!”
Aria nodded, her face turning a little red. Then she glanced at Arti, who was drooling, and edged closer.
-Hero, are you interested in the events for the Sun’s Sabbath?
-Huh? Events?
-Yes. On the Sun’s Sabbath, they have painted fruit in front of the temple…
Lydia looked at Mave. She was fidgeting awkwardly in the sudden party-like atmosphere.
“Mave.”
“Yes?”
“My maid is very busy following my orders right now. So, as a friend, would you help me carry the herbs?”
“Yes!”
“And…”
“?”
“Would you walk around the shopping district with me and tell me about your days in the Knights?”
“!”
Mave smiled brightly and nodded.
“Yes!”
Lydia watched Mave follow her with quick little steps, then looked ahead. The warmth in her eyes gradually faded.
What remained in its place was cool analysis.
‘I’ve guided Aria, Arti, and Mave toward stable emotional exchanges. An atmosphere this warm should be about right going forward, too. But the remaining heroine—the witch ‘Morgan’—is far too unstable.’
Morgan.
A petite young mage with red hair.
Among the three heroines in the main story, Morgan was the distinctively popular heroine who represented ‘magic.’ Despite being rude and irritable from their very first meeting, she was much more popular than the kind Aria.
The reason was—
‘…Both her sharp tongue and cold attitude were traits closer to a defense mechanism, meant to hide her emotional deprivation.’
Once she fell in love?
She never let go.
It was almost fortunate that the game didn’t have a jealousy meter.
Yandere.
Menhera.
Dependency.
Need and obsession…
They were all words that described Morgan.
“….”
Simply providing her with opportunities to grow and overcome her inferiority complex, as she had with Mave, wouldn’t be enough. In the original, Arti had to become ‘a man for Morgan alone,’ devoted to her and always by her side.
‘She was that deeply entangled with him emotionally, making her a companion with almost no NTR or betrayal elements. And her incredible magical ability was a big help, too.’
But.
Arti already had Aria.
She couldn’t allow anything to come between them. And if she left Morgan to Arti, she would inevitably become a source of conflict.
‘So I’ll have to step in.’
Hadn’t Arti and Aria grown even closer today?
Lydia was glad she’d thought to bring along just enough red herbs to trigger Morgan’s affection event.
Indeed,
would someone who had been possessive in a romantic relationship
follow the same path,
even if that feeling were replaced with friendship?
“…Now, it’s time for the last heroine.”
*
A deep, dark workshop.
A red-haired girl moved about amid broken glass and scattered materials. She rummaged through cracked jars and dusty shelves.
At last,
she muttered irritably, her hands searching the shelves frantically.
“Red herbs… Red herbs!”
All she found in her hands was dust.
Her mind had already realized she was out of money, but her heart refused to accept it.
“Damn it, I’m out of those expensive ingredients for the exam again…!”
Damn it, damn it…!
Again.
I’m out of money again…
“Damn it…!”
If I can’t make this,
I’ll disappear just like this.
I have to prove my results as soon as possible,
so I can get a job at the Alchemy Guild.
I need alchemy ingredients to earn my degree.
To make money,
I need money.
But the only place she could turn to, after being cast out by her family in the Republic…
didn’t exist.
She irritably swept everything off the shelves. Empty jars and rotten ingredients fell to the floor, leaving the place in shambles.
Crash!
Clatter!
Then she crouched on the dusty floor.
She didn’t care that dull chemicals and dust clung to her red hair. Her small frame only made her look more pitiful.
“…This is miserable.”
This whole world…
I wish everything would just die.ЧR361: I’m always alone anyway.