Chapter 79

The night of the first day of the Holy Chalice Cup.

At this hour, which effectively served as a pre-festival celebration, the circular arena was open to the public, and a literal carnival-like frenzy was unfolding.

People shared draughts of sacred wine dedicated to God, sang hymns merrily, and clapped their neighbors on the back.

In Aurelia, a nation of devout believers, such actions would normally draw scowls of disapproval. However, during the period of the Holy Chalice Cup, these behaviors were permitted—considered acts of showing gratitude to God.

For them, the Holy Chalice Cup was a ritual of that much significance.

Meanwhile, on the side of the participants—the students—most returned to the dormitory after the opening ceremony to prepare for the tournament starting the next day.

Because most of them crawled into bed early to be ready, the dormitory was deathly silent by the time the date was about to change.

In the midst of this, a single figure walked down the outer corridor, a thin light from a candlestick in one hand.

It was Irene, the blonde girl, advancing through the darkness without a hint of hesitation.

Eventually, she reached a woodshed located on the edge of the grounds. Checking the third door from the right, she gave it a quiet knock.

“Excuse me. The wood for the fireplace in our room has run out, and my master is having a difficult time nano-cleaning their glasses.”

“The glasses? That sounds like quite an ordeal. One moment.”

Mixing the word “glasses” into the sentence was the secret code Irene and the others had decided upon.

Immediately, a janitor with unremarkable glasses—Lucas in disguise—opened the door, and Irene slipped into the woodshed room.

Setting the candlestick on the floor nearby, she offered a respectful bow to Lucas.

“Did you call for me, Your Highness?”

“It’s a bit late to start acting formal now. Enough, there’s no need for stiff language anymore.”

Lucas yanked off the stifling wig and glasses, running a hand through his hair. Finally looking relaxed, he sat down on a pile of firewood.

A sudden appearance of a handsome man.

In a locked room, alone with a man whose charms were practically dripping off him, Irene had already “pfft-ed” at his appearance earlier.

Rather than a racing heart, she felt a sense of awe at the vivid “before and after” transformation, letting out a deep sigh.

“Really… what kind of power do those glasses hide to render all beauty and ugliness meaningless? I wonder if the world she sees is like that as well?”

“…Could you not present me with such a terrifying possibility?”

Lucas lowered his voice slightly at the suggestion that his attractive face might not be registering with Elma at all.

However, he shook his head lightly, immediately switching gears as he spoke with a serious expression.

“Now then. I’m sorry for calling you out, but I have a favor to ask.”

“Leave it to me. I’ve already managed to get Elma’s three sizes out of her. From the top—”

“No. Wait, what on earth do you take me for?”

Stopping Irene as she briskly pulled out a memo pad, Lucas looked to the heavens.

Then, with a grimace as if he had swallowed a bitter bug, he gestured for Irene to sit and locked eyes with her.

“What I want to ask is something entirely different. I want you to help me ensure that Elma doesn’t ‘excel’ during the Holy Chalice Cup starting tomorrow like she did today.”

“Help ensure… she doesn’t excel?”

As Irene repeated the words in bewilderment, Lucas nodded and added to the explanation.

“Specifically, I want to prevent any abnormal situation, like her reaching the top of all three divisions. Even regardless of the results, I want to avoid incidents like today that leave a powerful impression on the hearts of the people. Will you help me, Irene?”

“That is, well…”

Facing his direct gaze, Irene asked hesitantly, her confusion plain.

“That means… going against His Majesty’s orders to ‘seize the seats of the Holy Trinity,’ doesn’t it?”

“……”

As Lucas fell silent, Irene thrust out both hands in a hurry.

“No, if Your Highness says so, I’m sure there’s a reason. For my part, I’d much rather follow your orders than His Majesty’s. That’s why I went along with you earlier, even though I thought something felt off.”

She was referring to the moment they told Elma not to win and to instead devote herself to being an “ordinary person.”

Realizing she had picked up on his intent, Lucas glanced up, and Irene gave a tentative nod.

“At the time, I thought maybe you were making a political consideration—that as foreigners, we shouldn’t snatch away Aurelia’s symbols. Or perhaps, knowing that if she got serious, the damage would go beyond just the tournament, you, as a ‘hardworking, serious, slight-submissive-type’ Prince, had no choice but to stop her…”

“Wait, what is that mysterious, spell-like list of attributes?”

“So I provided cover, but… still.”

Brushing off Lucas’s retort, Irene squeezed her hands together.

Then, she snapped her head up.

“It’s still strange to avoid winning to the point of defying the King’s orders. Furthermore, you’re saying she should avoid not just winning, but excelling at all. If possible… could you tell me the reason?”

She stared straight back at him.

Lucas met her gaze and kept his mouth shut for a while.

The only sound between them was the soft crackle of the candle flame.

“…Can you swear that what I am about to tell you will never leave this room?”

Eventually, Lucas spoke in a low voice.

His face was terrifyingly grave.

Irene unconsciously swallowed hard. “…Y-yes,” she answered, then hurriedly corrected herself when she realized her voice was trembling.

“Yes. I swear.”

The most handsome man in Luden.

A womanizer, lighthearted, and lately a man known only for his constant burdens—but she was reminded once again that he was a man who led a company of knights at a young age and a member of the royalty who governed the people.

Lucas let his gaze wander for a moment as if searching for words, but finally ran a hand through his hair and stated it simply with a sigh.

“—Elma is likely of the Demon Race.”

“…!”

Irene gasped.

Lucas shifted his posture and let the corner of his mouth curl slightly.

“To be precise, she is a survivor of the Demon Race, or perhaps their daughter. Her overwhelming beauty, physical strength, and abilities. She has often been described as ‘not seeming human,’ but recently, my brother finally concluded that Elma is indeed a demon. During the condemnation of the former Marquis Clemens, he investigated the charges of the prisoners one by one to see if they were true—and it turned out that the prostitute who had been imprisoned for ‘carrying the child of a demon,’ which smelled most like a false accusation, was actually guilty.”

While wearing the mask of a dull king, Felix had been meticulously tracing the trial records of the prisoners held in Waltzer Prison.

The testimonies of the time, the evidence submitted, the circumstances. Working on cases from over fifteen years ago was extremely difficult, but he took his time investigating until he could discern the truth to his satisfaction.

The town doctor who had seen the belly of that prostitute who supposedly coupled with a demon—Heidemarie. Her colleagues at the time. The royalty of a vassal state whom Heidemarie had rejected.

He rounded up everyone who might be involved, using truth serums and even hypnosis to recreate the situation as it was back then.

And on her belly, a clearly visible, wickedly shaped birthmark had appeared—he had reached the conclusion that she truly had been carrying the child of a demon.

“Based on her age, that child in the womb is Elma. Her extraordinary physical abilities are easily explained if she is of the Demon Race. In other words… Elma is either a demon or a direct blood relative.”

“……”

Irene fell into a heavy silence before muttering a single thought.

“How should I put this…?”

She continued with a conflicted expression.

“Is it just me, or does this feel… incredibly ‘better late than never’? If someone tells me Elma is actually a demon, my reaction is more like, ‘Ah, I thought so’ or ‘I knew it’…”

“…Don’t say it. I feel the same way.”

With a look of sheer exhaustion, Lucas buried his head in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Given everything she’s done so far, I’m not surprised at all to find out her true identity… In fact, it’s almost a relief to realize that’s why she is the way she is. I can only assume my own senses have been completely numbed…”

“I suppose so…”

As Irene nodded solemnly, Lucas straightened up. “However,” he began.

“It seems those senses have become a bit too numb. We know she possesses a kind soul, but to the general populace, the Demon Race is still an object of terror and a target for aggression.”

“…So if her identity is revealed, Elma will be persecuted by the people?”

“No…”

A bitter expression crossed Lucas’s face as he rubbed his lip with his thumb.

“It’s the opposite. At this rate, Elma will be thoroughly exploited by my brother.”

“Exploited…?”

As if frightened by the ominous word, the shadows cast by the flame flickered unsteadily.

His following words were equally melancholy.

“…My brother is that kind of man. He doesn’t care if his subordinate is a demon or the killer of his parents. He only cares about one thing: whether the person is useful to him—or to Luden.”

“Useful…”

“Yes. By that logic, a demonic subordinate like Elma, who possesses peerless abilities and a near-immortal, resilient body, is practically ideal. In fact, ever since my brother noticed Elma’s usefulness, he’s done nothing but assign her reckless missions.”

Perhaps recalling the numerous tasks Elma had been dragged into, Lucas’s expression grew even harsher.

“The results are always superb. My brother is beyond satisfied. He gains practical benefits through these missions, but I suspect he is also calmly verifying her. Testing exactly how much of a ‘useful tool’ Elma can be.”

“That’s horrible…”

“And now, it’s been confirmed that Elma is the daughter of a demon. His ‘verification’ will know no bounds. What happens if he throws her into a territory that loathes demons (Frenzel)? What if he throws her into a sanctuary intended to burn demons away (Aurelia)? —Yes. That verification is likely the primary goal of this mission.”

Irene’s eyes widened.

“To burn away demons… You mean because Aurelia is holy ground?”

“Exactly. Aurelia is the birthplace of the Aurian faith. This country is filled with cathedrals of a scale that Luden can’t even compare to.”

“And those places house the holy swords and relics that once drove the Demon Race to extinction… So, it’s a powerful sanctuary.”

Drawing on her knowledge of Aurelia, Irene followed his logic. Lucas, inwardly surprised by how much she knew about the country, nodded quietly.

“Precisely. And I’ve heard that the closer a demon gets to a sanctuary, the more strain it puts on their body.”

Hearing the explanation, Irene gasped and pressed a hand to her lips.

“Come to think of it… she said today that she was feeling unusually out of sorts…”

Lucas’s face darkened further as he continued.

“That was just the first day of entering the Academy. If she stays for several days, her condition might worsen.”

“And the award ceremony for the Holy Trinity is held on the final day, in the cathedral most filled with Holy Power, using powerful relics. If Elma is exposed to that… she might be pushed even further to the brink…?”

“Yes. We must avoid that at all costs. And—even more than that, I want to avoid proving that Elma can perform even within a sanctuary.”

Irene understood the gravity of the situation that awaited beyond that proof.

“Even if she’s covered in wounds, if he finds out she can work in a sanctuary—in other words, under extreme adversity—His Majesty intends to conduct further ‘verifications,’ doesn’t he?”

“…To him, Elma seems like a weapon in the shape of a girl. I suspect he eventually plans to throw her onto a battlefield. Elma is brilliant, but she’s strangely naive about the world. She can read micro-expressions and act a part, but she’s pure at heart. It’s entirely possible she’ll be tricked by my brother, who uses disgusting tactics while dangling the ‘ordinary’ card in front of her. I want to prevent that no matter what.”

“…Wait, is that why you were arguing with His Majesty before we left…?”

Realizing this, Irene asked tentatively. Lucas looked away slightly as he answered.

“…I only punched him once.”

“…Wow.”

“What kind of knight would happily say ‘yes, yes’ and see off a woman he cares for as she’s thrown onto a battlefield?”

His handsome face took on a sulky expression.

It sounded like a reckless thing to do—but it was likely this very nature that made him so beloved by the people and the members of his knight order.

Irene let out a faint, dry laugh and finally nodded.

“I understand. So, I just need to use every means I can think of to make sure Elma stays quiet from tomorrow onward.”

“Yes. Especially you, as a friend she trusts. I want you to handle the persuasion and ‘brainwashing.’ Can you do it?”

When Lucas asked, Irene deftly arched a single eyebrow.

“Despite being a member of the Royal Palace, I am to betray the King’s orders and maneuver so that the mission fails. Such an impudent and terrifying task—honestly, what other woman besides me could possibly handle it?”

In the light of the candlestick, her cat-like emerald eyes flashed with a sharp glint.