“Shall we go, then, my lady?” the pope said.
“The magic investiture ritual... To think it would be so easy to destroy...” Lady Robur’s voice was so soft, the pope probably didn’t hear it. The eager expression she’d worn as she anticipated the mastermind behind this transfer had shifted back to her usual ladylike smile.
But what did she mean, “so easy to destroy”? Surely she couldn’t actually destroy it. With my senses heightened by the sacred beast’s blessing, though, I might have been able to channel magic through the magic circle and destroy it—though failure could have sealed it shut forever.
I crawled out from beneath the simple bed where Lady Robur had been sitting. Feeling a vague discomfort in my head, I walked silently behind the three, keeping a slight distance.
The pope and Lady Robur walked side by side. Behind them, and ahead of me, was the woman in the robe. The pope’s pace seemed slightly slower. Or rather, Lady Robur was striding ahead, almost cheerfully, pulling the pope along by the hand.
A faint light leaked from the place we were about to enter, but it looked fairly dim. An unpleasant atmosphere hung in the air. My intuition sounded a warning: Don’t go in.
Yet, the occasional glimpse of Lady Robur’s profile caught my eye. She looked like a child whose curiosity had been piqued. She showed absolutely no sign of caution or apprehension.
Ah, the two in front had finally gone inside. Terrifying... My legs froze, leaving me lagging behind the others. Suddenly remembering my walking stick, I frantically pulled it out of my bag. Prince Regulus, I believe in you!
Just as I took a step forward, though, Lady Robur’s voice suddenly reached my ears.
“Chimera...” Her tone was different from before. Gripping my staff tightly with both hands, I steeled myself and marched forward.
I was perhaps ten paces from Lady Robur when my eyes adjusted. The scene illuminated by the faint light left me speechless.
“My lady, it seems you were frightened after all.”
Lady Robur released the pope’s hand and took several steps forward, confronting one of the bizarre sights head-on.
From where I stood, I could only see her back. The same went for the pope. The woman in the robe stood off to the side, her back pressed against the rock wall, staring intently not at Lady Robur, but at the pope.
So no one could see Lady Robur’s expression. Was she frightened, as the pope had said? Yes, she had to be. Below her feet, the space was dotted with dozens of magic seals. Their dully glowing shapes formed circles, squares, pentagons, and countless other patterns. Each was large enough for a person to lie sprawled out inside it.
And at the center of every magic circle, a creature of clearly unnatural appearance stood, asleep.
Were these creatures called chimeras? They looked unnatural, as if parts from several different creatures had been stitched together into a single being. It was uncanny; sickening. Weren’t creatures like these taboo, designated as forbidden magic?
“Would you mind telling me why you did this?” Lady Robur asked suddenly. Her voice contained no fear. My intuition, sharper than any ordinary person’s, told me so. There was no fear or tension in her, only something cold. A sense of pressure I’d never felt from Lady Robur before—for some reason, it made me feel tense instead.
“Mom...”
Huh? Where had that whisper just come from? Was it a hallucination? It sounded like a young child worrying about their mother... No one else was reacting, so it must have been an auditory hallucination, right? Eh, no, this was scary. It was like it had come down from above my head... Yes, it had to just be my imagination. It was the scene in front of me inducing fear, I was sure. It wasn’t like those rumors I’d heard before I took my leave of absence—the Seven Mysteries of the Academy or whatever it was... I mean, it was definitely not a ghost!
“It’s an experiment,” the pope said quietly.
“An experiment?” repeated Lady Robur.
“Yes. There’s someone I absolutely must get back.”
“Get back? May I ask who it is?”
“Of course. You have the right to know.”
I sensed a certain loneliness and confusion from the pope. Thinking too of that earlier awkwardness in his stride, I wondered if perhaps he was being swayed by Lady Robur?
“Why do I have a right?” she asked.
“Your eyes,” said the pope. “I want those indigo eyes of yours. If I could be so bold, I’d wish for gold in the iris...golden ring...but I suppose that’s asking too much.”
A faint, mocking chuckle escaped the robed woman. When I glanced at her, I saw the few visible parts of her face twisted in delight.
“A real psycho,” Lady Robur muttered again in a voice only I could hear, though I didn’t understand the meaning. There was a hint of exasperation in her voice, but even at a time like this...was she having a fangirl moment?
As I felt the oppressive feeling from her easing, I slowly edged closer to Lady Robur.
“I think I can guess the reason, but could you explain it to me in full?” she asked the pope.
“It happened long before you were born, my lady,” he replied. “It’s impossible to fathom. The one I wish to reclaim is one who was assaulted by your grandparents—the previous head of the Four Great Ducal Houses—and the royal family, who was framed for a crime she didn’t commit. Even in death, she continues to be slandered as a villainess.”
“So...you want Beljeanne.” Lady Robur uttered the name of the legendary villainess as if she had anticipated it.
My mind was in turmoil. Though I could reach out and touch Lady Robur, I couldn’t move. Was the pope possessed by delusions? It was common knowledge that Beljeanne was a notorious villainess, wasn’t it?! What did he mean, framed?!
No—more importantly, Lady Robur seemed strangely calm, as if she’d known this all along. Why?
“Ah, did you know about this already, perhaps?” the pope said. “I heard it from Jabi over there. It seems you had some connection to the sacred beast Vamillia? The incident that was caused by the adopted daughter of the Robur family, that was handled discreetly a little while ago... They say you were on the rooftop then, and Vamillia manifested and took you away.”
“Yes, Jabi was watching from somewhere back then,” said Lady Robur. “Vamillia is such a dedicated reader.”
Taken away by the sacred beast Vamillia?! I was surprised that anyone in this country had even seen a sacred beast in full, but a lady from one of the Four Great Ducal Houses? That was beyond shocking.
I, who’d received divine protection, might sense a sacred beast’s presence, but I’d never seen one. I’d never heard of anyone else who’d received divine protection actually laying eyes on a sacred beast either. Granted, I was a shut-in, so I hardly interacted with anyone...
And, hold on, did she just say “reader”?! Did she mean that kind of relationship?! Wasn’t Vamillia the oldest sacred beast in the country?! What genre did she prefer?!
“Reader?” the pope repeated. “Ah, no, that doesn’t matter right now. Yes. It was Princess Beljeanne who saved this country through her noble sacrifice that day. Yet, just as before, the entire nation stole the princess’s achievements and credited them to that filthy thief, the root of all evil, the crown prince. Even in death, they pinned the crown prince’s crimes on her.” He spoke matter-of-factly. It sent a chill down my spine. He radiated hatred from every pore, yet his tone and expression remained calm. It was terrifying.
“Therefore,” he continued, “I wish to resurrect the princess—and, this time, I’ll ensure she occupies a position truly befitting her achievements...”
“Oh? I don’t want that,” Lady Robur interrupted, as if involuntarily, her voice dripping with genuine distaste. The conversation halted. What was wrong?
“What?” the pope asked. The robed woman also tilted her head to the side.
“No, it’s nothing,” Lady Robur insisted. “Please, continue?”
“Ah, yes. Of course, I didn’t plan her resurrection from the start. Princess Beljeanne had had her hair cut shortly before her death. Everything about her turned to ash when she died, and even that ash vanished. I wanted to mourn what remained—her hair—and see her off, at least in my own way. This was the result. Even if it was by chance that I arrived at this method, I suppose I was truly fortunate.”
The pope had cherished that infamous villainess—no, surely he cherished Princess Beljeanne. Had he not found that method, had he merely mourned her... I almost felt he might have followed her in death.
“Is that what Beljeanne would have wanted?” said Lady Robur.
A wounded expression flashed across the pope’s face for just an instant. “That...yes, it is...something Her Highness must decide, I suppose.” His gaze wandered, his expression somehow unsettled. His wandering eyes eventually fell downward at an angle. But he quickly turned a twisted smile, as if remembering his hatred, toward Lady Robur’s back. “But I myself simply cannot forgive. Those who received the princess’s blessings yet never acknowledged her...and this country still seeks to disparage her. That is why I wish to resurrect her. If the princess hates this country as I do, then I wish to destroy it. Even if not, I wish for the princess to return...”
The pope paused, cutting himself off. It felt like he’d been about to articulate his true desire. He tightened his lips once before rephrasing. “I wish for her to manifest in this country and reveal her desires. That’s why I carefully selected and gathered parts so that her body could resemble the princess’s in life. To be honest, it was quite a struggle to select only those who had committed grave sins, to ensure the princess felt no emotion toward those who became the source of these parts. The beasts used for experimentation were all classified as vermin. It was truly backbreaking work...but somehow, I managed. I ended up with many failed creations, but I’ve kept them like this, as reserves for when the princess declares she wishes to destroy the nation. Ah yes, the face is crucial. The princess’s beautiful face and those indigo eyes. That alone I could not replicate.”