Chapter 653 — Arc 10, Chapter 3 – “An Omen of Light”

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――Whenever Felt set foot into the Royal Castle, she would always endure a sensation akin to breaching a resistance, one as thin as a single layer of skin.

To Felt, who had been raised in the Slums of the Royal Capital before the commencement of the Royal Selection, the Royal Castle of Lugunica was but a symbol of absolute disconnect, one that lingered at the corner of her vision, but bore no relation whatsoever to her own life.

A place that whilst there, she would have no involvement whatsoever. Hazy and irreal, like a mirage whose existence held no perceptible worth; it left such an impression.

And that was why, even now, whenever she had the opportunity to visit the Castle as a Royal Candidate, she felt as if she were stepping into a dream or an illusion.

And as such――,

???: [――Felt-sama?]

Having had her name called, Felt stopped in her tracks and raised her head.

Her crimson gaze returned the stare of the blue eyes of her Knight as he turned back to her, his hands upon the door; with a brief snort, she replied shortly, “It’s nothing”.

Yes, it was nothing. No one could stop their stride now.

Felt: [Let’s go.]

Standing atop the resolution this declaration gave them, Felt tore through that skin-thin resistance, and proceeded forth.

When the Knight―― Reinhard gave a nod and opened the door, on the other side was a place that, as always, was bustling with the presence of many people, a place filled with a bizarre tension.

It was a space where individual agendas intermingled chaotically, exchanged in the form of gazes and words. However, the moment Felt set foot inside, those scattered intentions were unexpectedly unified.

That was to say, unified into a single unreserved will to appraise Felt for the sake of the Kingdom’s future.

Felt: [Well, it ain’t like I care. When facing up with someone, I’ve got plenty of those same feelings myself.]

Setting aside the Royal Selection, this worldly wisdom was Felt’s method of survival in the Slums, or perhaps something akin to life experience. Whether the other party was useful to oneself or not, what they might be thinking deep down, she had made a habit of ascertaining such things.

In truth, even since becoming a Royal Candidate, this ingrained habit had come to her aid.

After all, she was meeting with far more people now than she ever did in the Slums, and she was swamped with opportunities where she had to discern their true motives. If she had been forced to rebuild that sense of judgment from scratch, there was no telling how much she would have struggled.

That being said――,

Felt: [Though, there are folks like Emilia-neechan who have nothing to do with that sort of thing.]

Emilia who, despite being a fellow Candidate for the Royal Selection, maintained a defenselessness that bordered on the miraculous.

Felt suspected that behind Emilia’s ability to retain that demeanor lay the extraordinary efforts of her Knight, Natsuki Subaru, and others like Otto who accompanied her all this time.

However, on the other hand, Felt’s assessment was that neither the Royal Selection nor the environment which surrounded it was simple enough for someone to survive solely by unconditional protection. For all that, Emilia possessed a solid eye for people and the intuition to sense their ulterior motives.

Since she acted that way despite having those instincts, it made things rather difficult for Felt to deal with.

Felt: [In the end, she went and made me her friend, too.]

Reflecting on the decision she herself had just made, Felt heaved a deep sigh.

She had no regrets accepting Emilia’s offer, but she felt that the path ahead had become unclear yet again. She had no intention of resorting to dirty tricks or schemes, but there was no doubt it would have been easier to make decisions without holding back if they were just rival camps clashing fiercely against each other.

If it was just the other side that held a one-sided affection for her, then the opponent would be the only one at a disadvantage.

Felt assumed that this must have been Anastasia’s true aim in inviting the other camps to Pristella, her basic strategy. ――Unfortunately, that scheme was seemingly crushed by a flow of events which led to her becoming friends with Emilia after the Royal Selection.

Be that as it may――,

Felt: [Fine by me, I don’t hate it. It’s been a while since I’ve had those appraising gazes directed at me instead.]

This was no bravado, but full acceptance of the scrutiny directed towards herself, as Felt twisted the corners of her mouth into a smile.

Within the throne room into which she stepped―― the very place where the start of the Royal Selection had been declared, numerous officials of the Royal Castle of Lugunica were gathered; among them was the Council of Wise Men, who bore the weight of the nation’s administration.

The other day, Felt had reported on the incident at the Augria Sand Dunes and the Pleiades Watchtower―― of the achievements of Meili Portroute, who had sold herself as being capable of guiding the group to the Sage’s Tower; the atmosphere at present was distinctly different from when she had exchanged those words with them.

It was a gaze which was usually directed at Felt, almost as if looking upon a heretic or a foreigner―― in the beginning, at the point where she had joined the Royal Selection, Felt had picked a fight with every single person there.

It was close to the tone of bewilderment and confusion they had directed at that stray child from the Slums back then.

And so――,

Felt: [You guys with the “Who, me?” faces might be the reason for this.]

Stomping heavily across the red carpet, Felt walked directly to the center of the throne room. Closing one eye, she glared at the man and woman who were already standing there.

???: [――――]

The pair that turned to face Felt were both young, barely twenty years of age.

A gentle-looking man with bright-green colored hair, and a beautiful woman with short purple hair, reminiscent of flowers blooming in the rainy season. Despite the circumstances, the two of them stood dignified, not at all overwhelmed by their surroundings.

In fact, even at Felt’s opening, deliberately made as an attempt to seize the initiative, the two of them remained unshaken. The gentle-looking man gave a wry smile, while the woman waved her hand softly and fluttered, with an “Oh my, oh myyy”,

Purple-haired Woman: [Hehehe, aren’t you awfully sudden? Even though this is the first time we’ve met in this way, Felt-chan really is just as prickly as the rumors saaay.]

Felt: [Rumors, huh. What kind of rumors are those exactly?]

Purple-haired woman: [Small and adorable, yet majestic and dignified; strong-willed and unyielding to anyone, putting even men to shame… the reputation is that the gap in charm is enough to make one diiizzy.]

Felt: [Now those are a bunch of unwanted rumors out there…]

As Felt expressed her dejection with that answer, the woman giggled with a glossy allure.

Clothes coated in deep crimson like a ripened fruit, a hat of similar hue tilted upon her head, the woman boasted an appearance and atmosphere that resembled that of a scribe, or perhaps a maid serving someone of high status. However, the way she unreservedly closed the distance with others, and her sleepy, drowsy red eyes, made it difficult to pin her down.

If said bluntly, she gave the impression of being someone not easily dealt with. However――,

Green-haired Man: [――Sakura, the person before you is a candidate in the Royal Selection. Please stop speaking so smoothly in your usual tone. We wouldn’t have enough lives to spare.]

And, standing next to the woman, the gentle-looking man chided his companion’s attitude. That said, his rebuke was thick with the tone of a jest, offering no guarantee of his own seriousness or sincerity.

In fact, at the man pointing this out, the woman by the name of Sakura simply smiled, going “Huuuh?”,

Sakura: [Are you trying to make me the bad guy too, Tiga-chan? I’m already in bad standing thanks to that child’s selfishness, so to be told that by my only ally is such a letdooown.]

Tiga: [Then all the more reason not to increase our enemies. First impressions tend to linger, you know. Especially since right now, we are in a position where we aren’t exactly welcome… right?]

Sakura: [Yeees, yeees, Tiga-chan’s reasoning is sound, I suppooose.]

Tiga: [I am glad you understand.]

As Sakura stuck out her tongue in a sulky gesture, the man named Tiga nodded theatrically.

Then, turning himself towards Felt and Reinhard, he removed the wide-brimmed hat that had been pulled low over his head, and placing it against the chest of his dark purple cloak,

Tiga: [And so, my companion has been terribly rude, Felt-sama. I am Tiga Rauleon, and this is Sakura Element. We look forward to making your acquaintance.]

As he spoke, the gentle-looking man―― Tiga bowed with a distinct style, and, closing one of those yellow eyes he had turned toward Felt, he was a handsome man whose affected gestures truly suited.

Taking in the sight of Tiga and Sakura, Felt was convinced. Without a doubt, these two, who appeared to carry an atmosphere so distinct from the rest of the Royal Castle, were the reason Reinhard had taken her from the Royal Residence in a hurry――,

Felt: [Reinhard, these two…]

Reinhard: [Yes. ――They are the two envoys from the Church of the Divine Dragon.]

Standing beside Felt where she had halted her step, Reinhard faced the two in question.

Inadvertently, Felt and Reinhard, along with the duo from the Church of the Divine Dragon, faced off with each other in the middle of the throne room, drawing the attention of those present therein the Royal Castle.

Paying no heed to such attention, Felt crossed her arms, and glaring at Tiga,

Felt: [As far as I know, the Church of the Divine Dragon wasn’t supposed to involve itself in the country’s politics. So, why are you in a place like this?]

Tiga: [I am unsure of whether you will believe me, but in reality, this contact has been involuntary on our part as well. As you said, the Church has been trying to distance itself from national politics. Although of course, I won’t say that is because we lack a sense of belonging towards the Kingdom.]

Felt: [Involuntary contact, huh? You say that, while knowing that you might be able to do something for the body of Crusch Karsten, who’s a Royal Candidate herself?]

Tiga: [――. That is…]

In response to Felt’s words, Tiga faltered slightly. Next to him, Sakura covered her mouth with her hand and giggled once more.

Hearing that laugh, Felt growled with a “Huuh?” in her throat, and as Sakura tilted her head to the side,

Sakura: [No, no, Felt-chan really does have very sharp eaaars. Even though that topic you mentioned just now was supposed to be a secret kept only within this Caaastle.]

Felt: [Heh, you shouldn’t underestimate the hellish ears of this guy standing next to me. He’ll even listen to my footsteps when I get out of bed at night to go use the toilet.]

Reinhard: [While I will not deny it, that is a misleading way of phrasing that might invite misunderstanding, Felt-sama.]

Felt: [Shut up, quit forcing a smile like that and just look brazen! That’ll scare them way more, right?]

The origin of the information, that the discussion being held with the Church of the Divine Dragon at the Castle involved Crusch, had actually been Otto, so Felt concealed that fact out of obligation. At this point, adding on a few more rumors about Reinhard having hellish ears, or a habit of eavesdropping, would not hurt him much anyway. It was a fact that he could likely distinguish the sound of a needle being dropped a kilometer away, too.

Be that as it may――,

Felt: [――The problem’s in the “Church of the Divine Dragon” bit.]

Sakura: [Oh my, does Felt-chan hate the Church as well~? I do think our activities in, say, the Slums, have had a positive impact thooough.]

Felt: [Sorry, but I hate taking charity. I’ve never lined up for the bread the Church hands out. And, it’s not like I’m saying that those activities are useless, or that I hate them. What I’m talking about right now is the part where your bunch can save Duchess Karsten.]

Sakura: [Does that mean that you want to leave a rival camp alone to suuuffer?]

Felt: [You tryna make me say “no” specifically? Sorry, but I ain’t got that much free time.]

Felt stuck out her tongue at Sakura, who, despite her sweet manner of speaking, laced her attacks with poison.

Indeed, Crusch belonged to a rival camp, but the reason she had fallen into her current state could not be helped. Everyone who had been present at that event bore a guilt regarding it, and if she was heading towards recovery, it was only human to try and take whatever helping hands were available. ――However, those of the Church of the Divine Dragon alone, were for Crusch a terrible mismatch.

After all――,

???: [――Duchess Crusch Karsten declared at the start of the Royal Selection: that she would annul the Covenant exchanged with the Dragon, and break away from the peace protected by it.]

Everyone: [――――]

Speaking thus, interrupting the conversation of Felt and the others, was an old man with a long beard who sat in a chair in the row of the Council of Wise Men―― Miklotov McMahon. Felt, sighing slightly at the words of one of the Sages who had finally decided to talk,

Felt: […The very person who made the declaration that the whole country relying on the Dragon was pathetic, she’s now borrowing the power of the Church of the Divine Dragon that worships said Dragon? It must look kinda lame…]

???: [Be careful of what you say, Felt-sama. This is not a matter of appearances…]

Miklotov: [No, it is as Felt-sama says. Appearances… in summary, it is a matter of optics. In that regard, Crusch-sama will receive an irreparable blow. Though, that is only if she chooses to take the hand offered to her.]

One of the civil officials present tried to interject in the exchange between Felt and Miklotov, but he was chided by none other than Miklotov himself.

The Sage’s interjection implied that the final right to make the decision regarding the proposal from the Church of the Divine Dragon lay with Crusch and her Camp.

However――,

Reinhard: [――Ferris.]

Holder of the title of the Blue, he who was the one and only Knight of Crusch, who now lingered in the utmost torment, was also the friend Reinhard thought of as he lowered his eyes slightly and uttered that name from his lips.

Felt had witnessed with her own eyes when she had visited how his beauty, usually mistakable for that of a lovely woman, had withered away from exhaustion, and how much he agonized and gasped beside Crusch. She had not heard of Crusch’s condition improving since then. If that was the case, his state of mind would be the same.

His precious master, continuing to burn in the flames of a deadly poison in a living hell. If a means to save her was offered, no one could blame her one and only Knight, no matter what decision he made.

Miklotov: [Of course, even for us, there was a debate regarding this proposal from the Church of the Divine Dragon. First, we had to ascertain whether the content of the proposal was factual or not. Depending on the result…]

Felt: [Maybe the guys who got affected in Pristella could be saved too. If ya think about that, the things we’re hung up on are pretty small potatoes, I guess.]

Miklotov: [Hmm. Are you convinced, then…]

Felt: [You really think I can be?]

She understood the logic, and she understood the reasoning. However, emotional acceptance was a different matter altogether.

Having joined the Royal Selection, Felt intended to keep moving in order to win. But, with Priscilla having died in the recent events in the Empire, if Crusch were to drop out because of this, it would be a completely different outcome from the way Felt wanted to settle things.

If it were to end in that manner, would it be all that different from Reinhard just going on a rampage and rendering all the other Royal Candidates into invalids?

Miklotov: [It is not as if anyone is to blame. If one must point fingers, every bit of fault lies with the Witch Cult.]

Felt: [I know it’s too late now, but I really should’ve roughed up that Wrath bastard a bit more before throwing her in prison. If I’d done that, maybe my gut would’ve settled down a little.]

Of course, she knew perfectly well that doing so would not solve anything, and it probably would not have made her feel any better, either. In the first place, most of the damage in Pristella had been caused by Gluttony and Lust; the aftereffects left by Wrath were extremely minor.

Reinhard understood this as well, so no one took that hateful grumbling of Felt’s seriously.

In any case――,

Felt: [I get what’s going on. The Church brought a treatment method, and the Duchess… ah, whatever. Whether Crusch-neechan will be saved or not depends on whether her Knight accepts that treatment… We don’t have the right to butt in there.]

Even if she had her own thoughts on the matter, only the people involved could choose what to do.

Having admitted that, Felt asked “So?”, directing her question to Reinhard beside her, and then to everyone present in the room.

Felt: [I understand the flow of things up to this point, but why was it necessary to drag me here in such a rush? I appreciate the explanation, sure, but you know Emilia-neechan is in the Royal Capital right now, too, it’s not just me. If it’s just this explanation, it shouldn’t have made a difference if you told us all together.]

This matter had the ability to significantly affect the Royal Selection. That was all the more reason why this information should have been shared urgently not just with Felt, but with Emilia as well. In a situation such as this, it was unlikely that Reinhard would try to outwit Emilia by bringing along only Felt. It was doubtful Reinhard even possessed the concept of outwitting others.

Despite that, there had to have been a reason why Felt, and only Felt, was brought to this place.

Felt: [If there is a reason, is it you guys from the Church? But, as of right now, I don’t have anything I wanna discuss with the Church… Though, I guess we could talk about the Divine Dragon.]

Her words became somewhat muddy and her tone dropped in the second half―― Felt’s perception of the Divine Dragon Volcanica, whom the Church of the Divine Dragon worshipped so grandly, had just recently changed.

Felt: [After all, when I went along with Meili to the Pleiades Watchtower, I ended up having to watch Reinhard fight that empty-headed Dragon up close and personal…]

The battle between the Sword Saint and the Divine Dragon had not taken place in an environment where either could exert their full power, but it had still been a fierce, apocalyptic clash. Through that battle, Felt had learned that the Divine Dragon was in a state far removed from the majesty spoken of in legends, but if she had been asked to explain the details, she would have been at a loss for words.

However, Tiga, in response to Felt’s concerns, shrugging his shoulders,

Tiga: [No, summoning you, Felt-sama, wasn’t our intention. Or rather, regarding the discussion just now, the Church is actually in a delicate position.]

Felt: [Just now, you mean the stuff involving Crusch-neechan? And what do you mean, delicate?]

Tiga: [Well, simply put… the Church hasn’t actually given a clear answer yet on whether we would act to save Duchess Crusch Karsten.]

Felt: [Haaah…?]

Felt involuntarily groaned in a low voice at the reply given by Tiga, who frowned with a troubled expression.

It was a statement that made no sense. She had understood the situation to be that the Church of the Divine Dragon possessed a means to heal those afflicted by the Witch Cult, had declared they would save Crusch with it, and had contacted the Royal Castle. But, what Tiga just said completely undermined that premise.

Felt: [But, that treatment is supposed to be administered to Crusch-neechan right now. If the Church hasn’t given an answer, then why is that…]

Sakura: [That is becaaause… one of our impatient girls went running ahead on her ooown.]

Felt: […Running ahead?]

Sakura: [Yeees. That is whyyy we also rushed to the Castle in a great paaanic to hear the situation from everyone. It really is quite the biiind.]

It was hard to tell just how much of it to believe, given Sakura’s lack of seriousness. However, Tiga, who seemed far more capable of normal conversation compared to Sakura, did not stop nor deny her statement, but instead placed a hand on his forehead as if embarrassed by his own kin.

If it was true, then the Church of the Divine Dragon had some reckless personnel of its own.

But, even so――,

Felt: [That still doesn’t explain why I was called here.]

Miklotov: [Hrm. Regarding that point, we too find it exceedingly troubling. Since Knight Reinhard happened to be present, we asked that you attend as well, Felt-sama. After all, in the dilemma we now face, Felt-sama is a concerned party.]

Felt: [――――]

Having been told that it was a problem related to her, Felt narrowed her crimson eyes and licked her lips.

Even if it had taken quite the detour, it seemed as though they were finally arriving at the main topic.

The movement of the Church of the Divine Dragon regarding Crusch’s fate, the fact that this was unexpected even for the part of the Church, and the reason why Felt was called to this place where their envoys were present.

That was――,

Miklotov: [The person I mentioned earlier, who contacted us on their own from the Church of the Divine Dragon… is a woman with beautiful golden hair, and crimson red eyes. Furthermore…]

Felt did not interject as Miklotov spoke these words.

The characteristics of this person were being told to her as if they were significant; Felt was not dull enough to miss what that implied.

While watching Felt’s reaction, Miklotov voiced the continuation of his explanation.

Miklotov: [That person gave her name as Filóre―― claiming to be the same name as the daughter of Ford Lugunica-sama, the younger brother of the King, the very girl who went missing fifteen years ago.]

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――Filóre Lugunica, daughter of Prince Ford Lugunica.

While the significance carried by that name and existence was massively important for the Kingdom, it was of even greater significance to Felt above all else.

After all, Felt’s participation in the Royal Selection had not been solely decided due to her causing the Dragon Gem embedded in the insignia to shine, the act that qualified one for the Royal Selection; there was an even greater reason: the suspicion that Felt may in fact be the missing Filóre.

As fate would have it, it had been fifteen years since Filóre had vanished as a baby.

That lined up with Felt in terms of age, and her hair and eye color were also consistent with the characteristic traits of the Royal Family of Lugunica. Of course, Felt had never thought of herself as a member of the Royal Family, and she had never attempted to take advantage of it. ――However, she was not so self-centered that she could completely disregard the possibility those around her might have been expecting.

There were many in the Kingdom of Lugunica who saw in Felt the possibility that she was of the lost Royal Family.

No matter how Felt saw herself, she could not change the expectations and envy of others; such was human nature. And even without speaking of the greater picture encompassing the subjects of the Kingdom, to those who happened to be present there during the commencement of the Royal Selection―― and to even Reinhard as well, it was a glimpse of hope that they cherished.

Without a doubt, it was true that the possibility of the Royal Family’s survival had bestowed Felt, who originated from the Slums, with an initial blade to wield in the fight upon the stage of the Royal Selection.

And then――,

Felt: [――The real Filóre who disappeared, huh?]

Felt muttered this under her breath, the situation suddenly sinking into her chest.

Indeed, no wonder such a great uproar had spread through the Royal Castle. Perhaps the possibility that Crusch had been saved by the Church of the Divine Dragon, raising real concerns about her possible withdrawal from the Royal Selection, was itself being treated as a trifling matter in the wake of that fact.

That was just how astounding the existence of the nun from the Church of the Divine Dragon who called herself Filóre was.

???: [――Felt-sama.]

Suddenly, she was addressed by Reinhard, standing next to her, causing Felt’s breath to catch slightly.

That appeal certainly had not caught her off-guard, but nevertheless, Felt had failed to pick up on what emotions had been contained within that voice. ――No, she must admit it.

The clear turmoil stirring within Felt prevented her from picking up on Reinhard’s emotions.

Felt: [――――]

In the beginning, when she had been brought to the commencement of the Royal Selection by Reinhard, she held naught but strong feelings of rebellion and hostility, partly due to her life of forced confinement in the mansion after being taken there from the loot house. Ultimately, she had decided to participate in the Royal Selection due to the course of events that transpired there, including Rom-jii’s intrusion. However, the reason Reinhard had brought her there in the first place, endorsing her as a candidate, must have been due to his suspicions of the survival of the Royal Family, the foundations of which had now been shaken to their very core.

They had been repudiated. ――No, it was not a repudiation, they stubbornly remained as uncertainties. In addition, Felt had so far scoffed at that possibility and walked all over it.

And yet, when it was repudiated once and for all before her own eyes, a clear turmoil churned within her soul. It was not due to some desire to attain royalty.

Those who had hoped Felt was a member of the Royal Family found their expectations betrayed, a disappointment caused by circumstances beyond her control.

Felt: […How pathetic.]

Discerning the true nature of that budding turmoil, Felt was disgusted with herself.

She hated herself for always being so bold and brazen, pretending to be unshakable no matter what might happen; yet as soon as she realized that something unforeseen might have been lost, something she thought she could be free of without it bothering her at all, she panicked so disgracefully.

Gritting her teeth at how pathetic she was being, Felt forced her heavy, stiff neck to turn, somehow managing to look in the direction of Reinhard, who stood beside her.

No matter what kind of face Reinhard was making there――,

Felt: [――――]

Having braced herself, Felt looked up, and within her vision was a pair of eyes looking straight back at her, the azure skies captured within them, not a single bit of worry or turmoil lay there whatsoever. Even disappointment, to say nothing of dejection, was absent.

There was truly only one thing present there: the utmost trust in Felt, that was all.

Felt: […What the hell sort of eyes are you making, huh?]

Reinhard: [In my own way, I believe they contain my unwavering loyalty to you, Felt-sama.]

Felt: [――. Hah, shut it.]

Whether he intended it in jest or in complete seriousness, Felt replied to Reinhard’s response by poking her elbow into his side as he gave a slight smile. She had no choice but to do so. What was particularly aggravating was that Reinhard’s bearing just then had made the emotions weighing on her suddenly feel so much lighter.

Felt: [No matter what, I’m me. Can’t do anything ‘cept fight back like that.]

She had needed an impetus to openly fight back against that which was obvious. By chance, that was provided by Reinhard, and despite wanting to object to that, Felt refrained from any complaint.

She had objections, but they were not bad objections. Although, she would never admit that to Reinhard.

And just like that, a definite and clear decision had immediately been made within Felt

???: [――Knight Marcos Gildark has returned.]

Indeed, as a guard brought the news to the throne room, the expressions of all those there abruptly became tense. As Felt became alarmed by such a reaction, Reinhard leaned in to whisper in her ear, saying,

Reinhard: [It appears Commander Marcos brought the woman in question to Crusch-sama. Regardless of the right or wrong of such a remedy…]

Felt: [We’re coming face-to-face then. What a relief that it’s after I made up my mind.]

Responding to Reinhard’s whisper, Felt took a long, deep breath. Then, having Reinhard remain where he was standing next to her, she waited for a moment.

Then――,

???: [――So many people have been waiting for me. The circumstances are what they are, so perhaps it’s only natural.]

Felt heard such notions from an individual as they stepped through the door of the throne room and peered inside.

Felt: [So that’s…]

Was she the one calling herself Filóre, the nun from the Church of the Divine Dragon who had marched into the Royal Castle?

Just as she had heard prior, the woman was a nun with long golden hair and crimson eyes filled with determination. Though she was boldly standing tall, she seemed uncomfortable receiving the attention of the entire room all at once. However, due to the presence of the large armored figure just behind her, she could hardly step back.

In the end, she shook her head as if in resignation, and stepping straight into the room――,

???: [――Filóre-chan?]

Filóre: [Gehgeh.]

Upon taking her first step, she recognized the figure of Sakura turning and waving, and her carefully prepared expression stiffened dramatically, the color immediately draining from her face.

As it was, she had shifted her weight onto her front leg and then halted her movement, but after a brief pause, she attempted to turn around.

???: [Filóre, everyone already knows, so please behave yourself and come over here.]

Filóre: [Guh, not just Sakura, but even you, Tiga…]

Tiga: [Of course we were going to show up. Seriously, you’re just being selfish.]

Though the half-turned Filóre appeared distressed at Tiga’s appeal as he shrugged in exasperation, she also appeared resigned.

Abandoning the option of turning tail and fleeing, the girl plodded over dejectedly, her shoulders hunched, and before Tiga and Sakura, who were naturally acquaintances of hers, she took a deep breath, and――,

Filóre: [Devoting ourselves in prayer for the people of the Kingdom is the true purpose of the Church of the Divine Dragon, and I merely followed that doctrine. How about that?]

Tiga: [No matter how you put it…]

Sakura: [I don’t think you’re escaping a scolding and a lectuuure.]

Filóre: [But I’m not in the wrong!]

Immediately after puffing out her chest and making a grand declaration, her bluff was shattered. Toward the nun at her wits end who raised her voice to nearly that of a shriek―― toward Filóre, Felt instinctively raised an eyebrow.

The girl had a considerably different air about her compared to the first impression she gave off at a glance.

Moreover――,

Felt: [You’re quite a bit taller than me. Does the difference come from the luxury you lived in as a kid?]

Filóre: [Hold up, luxury? By luxury, are you referring to me? If that’s the case, that’s a big mistake. The Church of the Divine Dragon’s motto is the spirit of charity! Most of the Church’s spirit of compassion and charity is directed outward, not inward. In other words…]

Felt: [In other words?]

Filóre: [We’re famished almost all the time!]

With her hand on her stomach, Filóre loudly complained about the Church’s righteous poverty. Felt scratched her cheek in response to the vigor and volume of her voice, and upon finishing her declaration, Filóre was smacked on the back of the head. As she turned around with an “Ouch,” standing there behind her was Tiga, who had struck her head.

Directing his eyes in Filóre’s direction, looking at her like a troublesome little sister,

Tiga: [Don’t go around flaunting our shame. It’s a secret we’d taken great pains to keep from the heart of the nation until now. You’re not planning to expose anything and everything like that, are you?]

Filóre: [T-there’s no way I would. If I were that loose-lipped, you two…]

Sakura: [In that caaase, what about the sacrameeent?]

Filóre: [――――]

The sound of Filóre gulping in response to the questioning echoed with remarkable forte throughout the throne room.

As Tiga and Sakura both examined her face from either side, Filóre opened and closed her mouth for a moment, and then,

Filóre: […I m-made everyone leave.]

Tiga & Sakura: [Haaah…]

Filóre: [What grand sighs! Is this… is this the thanks I get for helping others? This too, is in the scriptures! “Even evils perpetrated under the cover of dusk are as a bonfire at midday in the eyes of the Dragon. The conceit of being able to keep it concealed is the very darkness of delusion thou dost construct for thyself!”]

Hoisting up the thick scriptures she had hastily produced with both hands, Filóre gave her excuse.

Felt was not very familiar with it, but she took the substance of what she had said just now to be something along the lines of, “Secrets always come out in the end, so do not become overconfident in them.”

That aside, there would most likely be some complaints about the scriptures of the Church of the Divine Dragon being used as a dictionary of excuses.

???: [Knight Marcos, did all go well?]

Ignoring the representatives of the Church of the Divine Dragon arguing amongst themselves, Miklotov fished for information from the Commander of the Royal Guard who had entered the throne room alongside Filóre.

His name called and a question asked of him, Marcos responded “Sir,” with a stern look still on his face.

Marcos: [I personally accompanied her and bore witness to the power of Miss Filóre’s sacrament.]

Felt: [Bore witness, meaning…]

Marcos: [――The wicked flames that dwelt within Duchess Crusch Karsten have entirely lost their vitality, and their influence has vanished.]

Marcos’s report caused Felt’s cheeks to stiffen with emotions she had no answer to.

Crusch had been saved; that was indeed joyous news. Yet Felt could not fully call the fact that she had been saved by the Church of the Divine Dragon joyous news.

However, just as she had prepared herself a moment ago, only those involved could have made that choice.

Miklotov: [――Hmmm, is that so?]

With the wisdom of his years, Miklotov accepted something akin to the complicated emotions Felt had experienced, then assessed Filóre’s state of affairs with a single glance. Filóre raised her head to meet his gaze, and as Miklotov stroked his long beard, he continued with a “Well then,”

Miklotov: [There is much for us to discuss. Of course, there is also the matter of the sacrament Miss Filóre has provided us proof of, but above all else…]

Filóre: [――? Was there something else?]

Puzzled, Filóre frowned as if she were completely clueless as to what Miklotov had left unspoken.

Aside from that reaction of Filóre’s, Miklotov’s hesitation to put it into words earlier was most likely out of consideration for Felt, who happened to be in attendance.

However――,

Felt: [I don’t need that sort of consideration. ――Reinhard.]

Reinhard: [Of course.]

At Felt’s command, Reinhard gently placed something in her outstretched palm as if he had known to do so.

For a moment, Felt examined the feeling of the object in her hand, and then flicked it with her finger in front of her―― toward Filóre.

Filóre: [Wah, w-w-what? What’s this?]

Quickly putting out both her hands, Filóre caught the object flying right at her. She blinked at that sudden action, to which Felt softly snorted.

Then, turning to face everyone there who had gone wide-eyed at that action of Felt’s, making a show of shrugging her shoulders――,

Felt: [This is what everyone here all wanted to see, right?]

Felt pointed with her thumb, and just beyond it stood the figure of Filóre, both hands enveloping that which she had received―― within her hands, the insignia she received shone.

It was undoubtedly proof that she had been chosen as a Dragon Priestess by the Dragon Gem. ――It was the sixth brilliant omen of light that blessed the existence of a Dragon Priestess recognized by the Dragon Gem.