Chapter 75

“Phew, that was nerve-wracking! So this is the heart of the Holy Nation, Aurelia… and those were the famous top candidates for the Holy Trinity? I can’t believe I got to see them in person!”

Having settled into a waiting room within the circular arena that was the pride of the Aurelia National Academy, Irene let out a cry of admiration as she slumped heavily into a simple chair.

“On the other hand, Elma, look at you! You’re standing there perfectly calm without so much as a flinch. Actually, it’s beyond calm—it’s like you have no presence at all. Even I, who was walking right next to you, lost sight of you a few times. You’ve reached the level of a secret agent.”

Irene looked up to find Elma standing quietly nearby.

Instead of her usual Royal Palace maid uniform, she was dressed in a white-based uniform identical to the students in the other waiting rooms.

With her hair in its usual bun and her thick glasses still in place—maintaining her plain, unremarkable impression—the student-clad Elma tilted her head curiously.

“I’ve merely suppressed my presence to an ordinary degree. Besides, do I usually emit such a noticeable aura in my daily life?”

“No, it’s not your ‘aura’ exactly. It’s your behavior.”

Irene’s eyes turned a bit distant.

It was true that at the Royal Palace, Elma always disguised herself in a drab appearance and kept a low profile.

However, on a near-daily basis, she would trigger some kind of outrageous uproar—whether it was butchering a tuna, building a reverberatory furnace, or accidentally seducing passersby. By now, Irene’s internal definition of her was basically “Elma equals Big Trouble.”

Irene gave a weary sigh.

“Well, whatever. Once the Holy Chalice Cup officially begins—the martial arts tournament where the seats of the Holy Trinity are at stake—you’re bound to stand out whether you want to or not. I’m just relieved you didn’t do anything to draw attention or earn unnecessary hostility before the ‘mission’ even started.”

A troubling word slipped out along with her sigh: “mission.”

Indeed.

Thanks to Felix, who never seemed to tire of working his subordinates to the bone, they had been assigned a new task.

“Honestly, His Majesty… I think he mistakes Elma, the Prince, and me for his private militia or something. We barely get back from the Harvest Festival and he tells us to head for Aurelia? My meticulous schedule for buying new book releases is completely ruined! That black-hearted Fox King! This is a total violation of labor laws! I’m demanding a special allowance! I’ll use it to buy even more copies of my new books to show my love for the authors!”

“…? Irene, you seem more emotionally volatile than usual. Or rather… are you perhaps a bit overexcited?”

As Irene barked out her complaints, Elma tilted her head, perhaps having read her micro-expressions.

Irene’s eyes widened slightly for a moment, but she immediately snapped back with a pout, speaking even faster than before.

“I am not. I’m operating at perfectly normal levels. Maybe ‘Black-hearted Fox’ was a bit much, but I can’t help it. Anyone would get emotional if their greatest hobby and perfect plans were sabotaged.”

“No, the way you’re wavering feels somewhat—”

“And besides, if you want to talk about emotional volatility, look at Prince Lucas. I’ve never seen him so openly angry before. His expression was so grim it almost shook my perception of him as a ‘slightly playboy’ character. Elma, did you see him after the King gave us the mission?”

Irene exhaled sharply, as if trying to dodge Elma’s scrutiny.

Elma, whose basic policy was to answer any question directed at her, obediently dropped her doubt and shook her head.

“No. Ever since we left His Majesty’s chambers, I have been attending to my usual duties. Was he making a grim face? Was this mission really that unpleasant?”

“Probably. Or perhaps something was said afterward; it looked like he stayed behind to speak with the King for a while after we were dismissed.”

Irene narrowed her cat-like eyes dangerously, as if recalling that day.

“Honestly, His Majesty thinks of his subordinates as chess pieces rather than people—”

And so, she looked back on the events of two days ago—the day Felix had handed down their new mission.

“Win the Holy Chalice Cup and seize a seat in the ‘Holy Trinity’?”

Called to Felix’s office that day, all three of them had cried out in unison at the sudden command.

“Wait just a moment. If I recall, the Holy Chalice Cup is an event where the nation of Aurelia stakes the prestige of the Church to decide the finest religious talent, is it not?”

Lucas was the one who spoke up first, his gaze suspicious.

“Even if it is technically open to any student of the National Academy, the Holy Trinity is the dream and goal of everyone in Aurelia. If I, an outsider from Luden, were to barge in, wouldn’t that draw the ire of Aurelia—and by extension, the entire religious community?”

Felix answered his half-brother’s calm assessment with a cheerful smile.

“Ahaha, it’s fine, it’s fine. Aurelia itself was the one who asked for Luden to intervene. Besides, the star of this mission—the one I want to excel in the Holy Chalice Cup—isn’t you, Lucas. It’s Elma.”

“…!?”

All three of them stared in shock at the revelation.

According to Felix’s explanation, the situation was as follows:

In the Holy Nation of Aurelia, the sacred land of the Church of Owl, the actual power was held by seven Cardinals who ranked just below the Pope.

While these Cardinals preached mercy and harmony, they were actually divided into two factions: the “Pro-Luden Faction,” which sought economic development through cooperation with the superpower Luden, and the “Anti-Luden Faction,” which wished to wash away the stain of being a vassal state and restore Aurelia’s religious authority. The two sides were locked in constant strife.

The “Holy Chalice Cup,” held once every thirty years, and the winners of its three divisions—the Holy Trinity—were supposed to be existences of the highest religious sanctity.

However, during the previous tournament, the student who had been informally selected as the Holy Maiden died of illness. As a result, the Holy Trinity could not be formed. Immediately following that, the country was conquered by Luden, causing the religious value of the Holy Chalice Cup itself to be severely damaged.

Now, it had devolved into nothing more than a “proxy war” for the power struggles of the Cardinals—at least in the eyes of the organizers.

In short, they intended to secure their own power by pushing their favored students into the ranks of the Holy Trinity, which boasted authority rivaling that of the Pope.

For this reason, the Cardinals had expanded their search into the slums and even foreign nations, scouting individuals with superior Holy Power to bring into the Academy.

Currently, the three top candidates for the Holy Trinity within the Academy were all individuals gathered by a Cardinal from the Anti-Luden faction.

This Cardinal, a man named Guido, had actually been informally selected as a Holy Swordsman during the previous tournament, but his dream was crushed when the Holy Maiden candidate went missing.

Now, he was determined to realize his long-held ambition by ensuring that students under his personal influence were chosen for the Holy Trinity at any cost.

Feeling a profound sense of crisis regarding this situation was Celso, a Cardinal from the Pro-Luden faction.

If all three members of the Holy Trinity were Guido’s pawns, the downfall of the Pro-Luden faction was inevitable.

For him, it was essential to send at least one student from his own faction into the Holy Trinity.

However, the students he currently “held” were nowhere near the level of the three raised by Guido.

At this point, he didn’t care if the candidate lacked Holy Power.

He sent a petition to Felix, stating that he wanted to dispatch someone with martial skills capable of overwhelming the other three in the combat tournament known as the Holy Chalice Cup.

Naturally, from Luden’s perspective, it was preferable for the vassal state to lean toward the friendly faction.

Thus, Felix had readily accepted the petition in exchange for several pieces of art stored by the Church.

“That said, sending the King’s brother would be a bit too obvious. Besides, I heard the three under Lord Guido are all boys and girls around fifteen years old. So, you know, for the sake of balance? I thought about that.”

Felix continued in his usual, irritatingly slow drawl.

“Lord Celso only seems to expect results in the ‘Holy Swordsman’ category, where you can fake it even without Holy Power. But I figured, if we’re sending Elma anyway, maybe she’ll accidentally sweep all three categories. That would be a better bargain, right?”

He added that since she was likely to cause other troubles, Lucas and Irene should handle the follow-up.

With that, Felix had offered a smile toward Elma.

“Elma, executing a royal command is perfectly ‘ordinary.’ This is a chance to clear your name of that ‘Supreme Being’ or ‘Elmael’ nonsense that started spreading in Frenzel. Go out there and take the top spot among the students.”

…He had said.

Recalling the exchange, Irene frowned at Elma once more.

“Seriously, Elma, are you still obsessed with being ‘ordinary’? Do you still want to go home that badly? It’s about time you realized that you don’t have a single ‘ordinary’ bone in your body. Honestly.”

“If I give up, the game is over. My goal of introducing friends during the Harvest Festival was fulfilled in a different form, but that doesn’t mean I should let go of my initial objective.”

As Elma answered flatly, Irene gave a short snort.

“Good grief. You really show your persistence in the strangest ways.”

“If you’re going to say that, your own persistence in getting dragged along every time His Majesty orders me to do something is quite impressive, Irene.”

In truth, unlike Elma and her extraordinary abilities, Irene was simply getting caught in the crossfire because she was close to her.

She could abandon Elma at any time, yet she stuck around and watched over Elma’s “Path of Ordinariness.”

When Elma spoke quietly but with sincere gratitude, Irene fell silent for a moment and looked away.

“…It’s not like that. I was ordered to do it too, and there are plenty of perks, so I’m just letting myself be dragged along.”

“Perks…?”

“Speaking of being dragged along, I wonder what the Prince is doing? We were supposed to meet up with him in disguise so that his involvement as the King’s brother wouldn’t be discovered.”

As Elma tilted her head curiously, Irene stood up from her chair as if to cut her off and leaned out of the waiting room.

A man who appeared to be an Academy janitor approached, seemingly only just noticing their arrival.

He wore a shabby gray robe and a gloomy hood that covered his face.

Hiding his features further with thick glasses and long bangs, the man had a thoroughly unremarkable impression. He muttered, “This is the material showing the schedule from today until the final day,” and handed a bundle of papers to Irene.

“Oh, thank you. So you’re the servant assigned to this room?”

“Yes…”

“I see. Well, sorry to start right away, but could you refill the water jar in the waiting room? Also, I won’t ask for a welcome fruit basket, but I want something to snack on before the opening ceremony. For two. Then, some towels to wipe off the travel dust. Oh, and could you lend us some binoculars as well? And—”

By the nature of a maid accustomed to managing chores, Irene fired off instructions in rapid succession.

Noticing the man just stood there unresponsive to her string of demands, she felt a slight spark of annoyance.

Then, she suddenly felt as though she had experienced this sensation somewhere before.

“…Should I write a memo for you? Oh, but can you even read?”

Unremarkable glasses. An opponent whose expression was unreadable.

He should have been someone of lower status than her, yet he exuded an air of elegance and pressure, like someone accustomed to standing above others—.

“Fine, I’ll say it one more time. This is the last time, so remember it all at once.”

As she spoke threateningly, Irene realized.

That’s right, he was similar to Elma.

Just like her when they first met—plain, with intentions that couldn’t be fathomed.

It was as if they were siblings, or perhaps—.

“I’m going to say it, okay? First…”

As if he were someone Elma had applied her disguise techniques to.

“Pri—!?”

Her cry of “Prince” was instantly muffled by the hand of the man who reached out toward her.