The soft sounds of a carriage traveling down the royal capital’s roads echoed through the night. It bore no noble crest, but anyone with connections to the court would have recognized it as belonging to Count Leicester, the chief court sorcerer.
Even this late at night, cheerful chatter and soft lights streamed from the capital’s taverns. But once the carriage crossed the main street into the noble district, lined with mansions, the darkness grew quiet and still. No one was in sight.
The black-lacquered carriage glided over the cobblestones and came to a halt behind a smaller temple adjacent to the Holy Church’s main cathedral, in an area surrounded by planted trees. From within the temple’s back entrance, two women emerged holding glowing staves.
For a moment, the coachman was enchanted by the sight of the modest maidens in their pure-white robes. Then he seemed to remember himself and hurriedly bowed his head before opening the carriage door. A girl with gently swaying jet-black hair and sickly pale skin quietly exited the vehicle.
“Welcome, Lady Karla,” one of the women said.
“Thank you for coming out to greet me,” Karla replied in an unexpectedly conventional manner.
Though her life force was so sparse as to seem ephemeral, Karla’s massive aether reserves were oppressive, giving her an intimidating aura. The two women gasped at her ghastly appearance but maintained their usual smiles.
“Please, this way,” one of them said. “We will take you to Lady Ursula.”
Several days ago, a secret correspondence from Ursula—extolled by the people as a holy maiden of the church—had arrived for Karla at the academy. The contents had been vague, with many coded words, but Karla had grasped the gist of it. Ursula had wanted to privately discuss the whereabouts of the princess and her guard as well as the successful infiltration of Claydale by demons.
Karla didn’t believe any of it.
While she had been the one to facilitate the demons’ entry into the country, all evidence and witnesses had already turned to ash. But the Holy Church’s information network spanned the entire kingdom, and it was possible they’d caught wind of Karla’s involvement. So, feeling like this could provide some entertainment, Karla had answered the summons and secretly come to the capital.
At the end of an empty, dimly lit corridor was a room for receiving dignitaries. Inside, a modest woman with flaxen hair smiled softly at Karla.
“Welcome, Lady Karla. Thank you for taking the time to come and meet me tonight,” the woman said.
“It’s no trouble at all, Lady Ursula,” Karla replied.
“This way, if you would.”
Ursula guided Karla to a sofa and sat across from her. The room was plain, its white walls undecorated, but the massive cut stones lining the floor were pristine and polished like mirrors. The soft seats were of the luxurious quality that high-ranking nobles favored.
Four priestesses were in the room as well, one in each corner, keeping silent vigil as Ursula made small talk with Karla over cups of fragrant tea the holy maiden had brewed herself.
After some time had passed in this manner, Ursula suddenly leaned forward with a melancholy look in her eyes. “Lady Karla, I must confess there are some within the church who claim you were the one to bring demons into our country.”
Karla gave a small smile and tilted her head. “Oh, that’s rather terrible of them. I may look like a grown woman, but that’s because of my aether, you see. Inside, I’m still but a girl, barely thirteen. Who might’ve said such awful things, I wonder?”
“Yes, yes, I understand completely. Between you and me, though, within the Holy Church there is a group that specializes in handling vengeful spirits.”
“Is there, now?”
Indeed, exorcising vengeful spirits could be seen as part of the duties of the clergy, whose job it was to save people. But these spirits were rare compared to other undead creatures. Undead monsters were created when miasma corrupted the aethercrystal in a corpse, and in places where mana density was high, this corruption merged with the deceased’s lingering thoughts to reanimate the body as a monster.
But spirits, lacking aethercrystals or physical vessels, didn’t spawn outside of monster-infested territories where humans didn’t go. Exceptions existed, but only in the presence of immense amounts of mana and miasma. This tended to require the presence of high-ranking undead.
So why would a department of the church specialize in such things?
“There must be a recently departed soul who harbored considerable resentment toward this world,” Ursula explained. “Though their remaining thoughts were incoherent and dreadfully mad, the spirit was shrieking hatefully about demons and a certain noble lady.”
Karla narrowed her eyes. “Oh? The ravings of spirits can hardly be called credible, don’t you think? Still... What an interesting intelligence department the Holy Church has.”
The maiden priestesses in the room grew tense at Karla’s words. Ursula lifted a hand to still them, then brought her teacup to her lips.
Karla, too, drank from her own steaming cup.
Speculating aloud, she surmised that this department specialized not in exorcising such spirits but in raising them through necromancy—the art of utilizing miasma to deliberately produce vengeful spirits and extract information from them. Necromancy was forbidden on this continent, and even possessing old research materials on the topic was considered a crime. Given that the Holy Church itself had forbidden it, for them to employ it seemed like a bad joke.
The fact Karla had managed to reach such a conclusion from so little information left Ursula astonished. It was all the convincing the holy maiden needed that this teenager had been the one to bring demons into the nation.
“The young master was right,” Ursula said sharply. “You truly are a blight upon this nation’s holy splendor.”
Ursula’s four cohorts slowly approached.
“He said we didn’t need to kill you. That it would suffice to educate you so you couldn’t return to the academy. But the divine has spoken. A new candidate for future queen must be chosen.”
It wasn’t the fact Nathanital was the high priest’s grandson that had made Ursula entertain the boy’s request for “education.” Any attempt to use the Disciplinary Corps for personal gain behind the high priest’s back would’ve normally resulted in Nathanital himself being mercilessly educated.
But Ursula had received a special mission from the church’s headquarters, located in the Theocratic State of Fandora. They wanted to have a maiden connected to the Holy Church among the three queens.
The high priest had been scheming for years to get a noblewoman connected to the church to become one of the crown prince’s fiancées, but Duke Hoodale had gathered allies and pulled strings, resulting in his daughter being chosen.
Still, that didn’t mean they were bereft of options. After hearing about Karla from Nathanital, Ursula had thought it would be a great opportunity to put the plan into action. Karla was known to wander and dive into dungeons solo, which undoubtedly caused consternation for the crown prince. Her disappearance would likely be a cause for relief, not concern. Besides, Count Leicester himself seemed to be struggling with his daughter. By making her vanish, they could curry favor with him.
Then, they could transfer Ursula’s title to an appropriately gullible noblewoman with an affinity for the light element and achieve their goal.
“Lady Karla,” Ursula said, slowly pushing herself to her feet. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she looked down at the pallid girl. “How do you like your tea?”
Karla remained motionless, holding her cup. The disciplinarians drew needle daggers as they surrounded her from all directions.
“Mmm... Sephriore blossom,” she said. “A nostalgic flavor.”
One of the women, sensing something, thrust out her dagger with alarming speed—all disciplinarian maidens were Rank 3 light sorceresses and fighters, after all. But before the blade could find its mark in Karla’s slender neck, the girl’s pale hands, now marred by thorny black patterns, grabbed the attacker’s arm.
Crimson flames roared forth from Karla’s palm. Half of the maiden’s body was incinerated in an instant, her face frozen in a voiceless scream.
Still holding the woman’s arm, amid the strange stench of burnt hair and flesh, Karla took another sip of the familiar poisonous tea. She’d often consumed it to build Poison Resistance for her dungeon ventures.
A blissful smile crossed her features.
“What a marvelous aroma.”