Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 3.1 - Chapter 16

An Illustration of Ferdinand 

Lutz and Gil fetched baskets and blades to cut trombes, then took the children and gray priests to the girls’ building as I followed behind. 

“Would someone please summon Wilma, Delia, and Dirk from the girls’ building?” I asked. 

“Yes, yes! I can go!” several children cried out, before they all raced off. It wasn’t long before Wilma and Delia, who had Dirk in her arms, came outside. Delia’s expression was a little stiff. 

“It’s good to see you again, Delia. I’m glad you’re doing well.” 

“I appreciate your concern. Dirk and I are doing just fine,” Delia replied, offering me a small smile once I had spoken to her. 

“Delia, Dirk has the Devouring. His mana was the reason that the toad—ahem—that the count and the High Bishop targeted him. As the count is still alive, Dirk continues to be bound to him in servitude.” 

The color drained from Delia’s face. Count Bindewald was being kept alive so that his crimes could be properly investigated, and so that negotiations could be made with his home duchy of Ahrensbach. Sylvester’s priority was making a politically beneficial deal, so it was hard to imagine that nullifying Dirk’s contract was something he would even consider. It was safe to assume that Dirk’s contract would remain in effect for as long as the count lived. 

“Dirk has not been given a magic tool with which he can expel the mana building up inside his body. We must drain some so that it does not overwhelm him. Please have Dirk hold one of these red fruits.” 

I prompted Gil to give Delia a taue fruit, which she then gave to Dirk. His mana hadn’t recovered much since he had been completely drained by the High Bishop back in spring, so the fruit barely grew large enough for the seeds to start bulging out a little. 

“He should be fine for some time now. You may take Dirk back inside.” 

“Hear that? You’re all okay now,” Delia said to Dirk as she lovingly stroked his head. 

Dirk had grown a lot over the past season, which meant that Kamil was probably bigger too. The nostalgia was so strong that I couldn’t help but get a little teary-eyed, so I shook my head to drive away any sentimental thoughts. 

...Nope, nope. I can’t let myself start thinking like that or I’ll want to go home again. 

Instead, I focused my thoughts on printing. I needed Wilma to draw the program’s cover art for me. 

“Wilma, I have a request—could you draw an illustration of the High Priest for me?” 

“I apologize, but that is beyond me. I have never seen the High Priest’s face before,” Wilma explained. Because she had a traumatic fear of blue priests, she had looked at Sylvester and Ferdinand as little as possible when they toured the orphanage. As a result, she hadn’t gotten a good look at their faces. 

I can’t believe Wilma doesn’t know what Ferdinand looks like! Though I suppose it does make sense, now that I think about it... I thought, paling in terror as my plot crumbled before my very eyes. “I-I shall invite him to my chambers, and you can—” 

“I sincerely apologize, but I am still too terrified to even think about going to the noble section of the temple,” Wilma said mournfully. 

It certainly would be hard for her to go there, given that it was essentially a nest of blue priests, but still—it was hard to imagine that any blue priests would go after one of my attendants now that I was the High Bishop. 

“Wilma, would you perhaps feel more comfortable if I stayed with you at all times? That way, nobody would even have a chance to approach you.” 

“I truly am sorry, Lady Rozemyne... But perhaps you could ask Rosina to sketch his face. I think that I would be able to draw an illustration based on her art,” Wilma suggested with a regretful look on her face. 

“I’ll go and ask Rosina, then!” I exclaimed, now beaming with hope. Shrine maidens trained in art really were something else. 

Wilma let out a small giggle, then returned to the orphanage with Delia and Dirk. 

“Now then, is everyone ready?” I asked. 

“Yes, milady!” Everyone responded in unison, holding their blades for chopping trombes. 

I looked over them to confirm that everything was prepared, then Lutz gave a nod, signaling me to take the taue fruit from Gil. It was already half-grown from when Dirk had used it, and the moment I grasped the fruit, I could feel my mana being sucked into it. I watched carefully as the number of seeds increased, bubbling beneath the taue’s surface as its skin hardened. Then, once the fruit was full of seeds, it began heating up. 

“Here it comes!” I exclaimed, throwing it onto the dirt (without missing this time). Seeds shot in all directions, and I was instantly picked up by a gray priest who hurriedly escorted me behind the others. I observed their epic battle from the sidelines. It was more than apparent that they were more skilled than they had been last year—they were doing their job efficiently and without so much as a stumble. 

We turned each of the four taue fruit we had gathered during the Star Festival and left on the workshop’s dirt floor into trombes, and by the time we had cut them all down, the baskets we had brought with us were filled to the brim. 

I looked over at the kids, who were flushed with satisfaction, and gave them a smile in return. “Now then, please use all of this to make paper. I expect another warm winter ahead of us.” 

The orphans all gave an enthusiastic “Yes, milady,” at which point I decided to leave them to Gil and Lutz so that I could head back to the workshop to retrieve Damuel. When I arrived, I found him aimlessly walking around in circles like a lost puppy. 

“Thank you for waiting, Damuel. We will be returning to my chambers now,” I said, before heading to the High Bishop’s chambers and immediately asking Rosina if she could draw an illustration of Ferdinand. 

“Given her fear of men, it does not surprise me that Wilma would have avoided looking at him. But in any case, drawing the High Priest will be no problem at all. He has a very handsome face that is easy to draw,” Rosina said with a giggle, elegantly sliding her pen across the paper as she started to draw Ferdinand. 

Her art was beyond good. She drew Ferdinand’s face from both the front and side, and all it took was a glance to recognize that it was him. Rosina’s art was too impressive for someone who had only picked it up on the side. 

“Th-This is incredible!” Monika exclaimed, her dark-brown eyes glimmering as she looked closely at Rosina’s illustration. 

“Monika, please deliver this to Wilma and ask her to draw an illustration of the High Priest.” 

“As you wish,” Monika said, leaving the room with Rosina’s sketch hugged close to her chest. A moment later, Fran returned from asking Ferdinand what his plans were. 

“What did he say, Fran?” 

“It seems he had a sudden visitor.” 

So you call me over to stop me from reading books, then have the gall to talk to another visitor first? Veeery interesting... 

The dark feelings that had been partially dispelled by my meeting with Lutz and being given a diptych started swirling again. 

“He said that you may peruse the books locked away in the temple’s book room while you wait. Shall we go?” Fran continued. 

The mention of locked-away books immediately blew away all of my dark feelings; my main priority here was reading new books. I stood up and gave Fran a smile. “At once! Fran, where might the key to these locked-away books be?” 

“Right here.” 

Accompanied by Fran and my guards, I practically skipped to the book room. If you had asked me what the best part was about living in the High Bishop’s chambers, I would answer that it was super close to the book room. 

I opened the door to the book room with the key that had now been entrusted to me, then faced the locked bookshelf containing the temple’s most valuable books. It was my first time even seeing them. Just what kind of books were stored behind that door, considered so valuable that they were kept separate from the others? Just thinking about it made my heart thump. 

I slid the key into the lock, my heart pounding with excitement and nervousness, and the bookshelf door opened with a small click. Five large books were lined up inside, each with an ornately crafted cover. 

“I will only need one book today, Fran. Please bring it to the reading table,” I requested, eyes gleaming. It was hard for me to carry a big-print, sixty-centimeter-tall book on my own. 

“...Lady Rozemyne, it appears that these are not books.” 

Indeed, the things lined up in the locked bookshelf weren’t actually books—rather, they were boxes that had been carved to look like books, and inside of each one was a bunch of folded letters. I picked one up, and immediately noticed it was made of paper that was more like parchment than the plant paper I was making. When I opened it up, I saw that it didn’t have the sender’s name on it. 

“Is this, by chance... a love letter?! Fran, should I really be allowed to read this?” 

“Lady Rozemyne, as you are the High Bishop, I believe it is your duty to read the letters and report their contents to the High Priest.” 

Given where they were hidden, perhaps the letters were from the former High Bishop’s lover. There were a lot here. 

Oh no, what should I do? Now my heart’s really beating fast... 

“Well, no point wasting time then.” It seemed that the letters got older the further down into the box you went, so I turned the box over and started reading from the oldest one. 

The High Bishop’s anonymous girlfriend was apparently a noble girl who had been raised as the successor to her family for her entire life. But then her parents gave birth to a baby boy, and since he had more mana than her, he was selected as their next successor instead. The girl felt as though all of her pride and hard work up until that point had been for nothing, and so her heart was flooded with frustration. Her father predicted that this anger toward her little brother would lead to a civil war of sorts within the family, and so had her married off to a noble in another duchy. With both her mother and father completely absorbed in her little brother, the girl wrote to the High Bishop saying that, “You are the only one I can rely on.” 

Lady, I think you picked the wrong person to rely on... 

It seemed that the girl continued to send letters here on a regular basis, even after she had been married away. Just what did she mean to the previous High Bishop? Given how carefully he was preserving her letters, it was clear she meant a lot to him. Priests couldn’t marry, so perhaps he had a hidden crush on her. 

I’d always thought he was just a greedy, lustful, perverted old man, but maybe he had an innocent side to him, too. Though that’s really hard for me to imagine... 

I read through letter after letter, until Monika eventually came to the book room in search of me. Only when Fran tapped me on the shoulder did I look up from reading. 

“Lady Rozemyne, Wilma has a request for you,” Monika said. 

“And what might that be?” 

“She would like to see the High Priest in person before drawing him.” 

Her attitude had done a complete one-eighty since I had last seen her, and while I was glad to hear that Wilma was increasingly working up the courage to come to my chambers, I didn’t know how to feel knowing that it was a sketch of Ferdinand that had motivated her. 

“...Well, that’s fine. I shall go and get Wilma from the orphanage. Ferdinand should be visiting my chambers soon, anyway. Fran, I will be going to the orphanage with Monika, so please return to my chambers to prepare for Ferdinand’s visit ahead of time.” 

When I went to the orphanage to fetch Wilma, she greeted me with an embarrassed smile. “My apologies, Lady Rozemyne. I just couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Rosina’s sketch. Never in my life have I seen anyone with such perfect features.” 

“‘Perfect... features’?” 

“Yes. I could not imagine a face better suited for art. It is so beautifully composed. Were Sister Christine here, she would wish for him to exist by her side at all times, serving as a muse to observe and inspire her. Do you not feel the same way, Lady Rozemyne?” 

Ferdinand apparently had such handsome facial features that Wilma wanted to use him as a model, and the art-loving shrine maiden of yesteryear, Sister Christine, would have wanted to have him with her as much as possible. 

I honestly can’t sympathize at all. 

“I do agree that Ferdinand has a handsome face, but he’s generally expressionless, and gives off an overall cold impression. At times, I think of him as a moving statue. I much prefer a more living beauty—like what Fran has now that he has started showing a greater variety of expressions. There is much beauty in a peaceful, transparent, and caring expression,” I expounded. 

When Fran was little, he was probably a cute boy who looked very feminine. He was muscular enough that I didn’t normally think about that, but whenever he looked surprised or laughed, he would look a lot younger than he actually was. 

“Lady Rozemyne, I believe that is excessive praise for Fran.” 

“You think so? I won’t deny that the High Priest is handsome, but I believe this is a matter of opinion, where different tastes lead to different conclusions. But even so, my attendants are far cooler than the High Priest’s, and they are much cuter. That is simply a fact,” I said firmly. 

“Oh my...” Wilma and Monika said with a giggle, while Brigitte nodded in agreement. 

Oh, looks like I have a silent ally. I get the feeling that Brigitte and I will be very good friends. 

“Welcome back, Lady Rozemyne.” 

I returned to my chambers to find Rosina waiting with her harspiel, a trace of giddiness in her expression. Ferdinand was beside her, also holding a harspiel, while Fran was setting a pen and some paper on the table in front of them so that Ferdinand could write out the music I was about to teach him. 

“Apologies for the wait, Rozemyne. I did not expect that visitor.” 

“Oh, it was no problem at all. I spent the time reading some very fascinating things. I don’t mind lending them to you once I’ve finished reading them all,” I said with a smile, while having Fran prepare a pen and some ink for Wilma as well. My words earned me a nod and a faint grin from Ferdinand. 

“Now, then—you know what to do,” Ferdinand said while readying his harspiel. 

I thought about which song to give him, all the while watching Wilma’s pen race across paper out of the corner of my eye. What would be a funny song for Ferdinand to unwittingly sing? 

He lacks both kindness and compassion, so something about love, heroism, and friendship should be just perfect. 

I selected a famous anime song and hummed it. After a bit, Ferdinand waved a hand, signaling me to stop. He then strummed his harspiel, fluidly arranging the notes into a song. Rosina watched excitedly, then shot a hand up. 

“What is it, Rosina?” I asked. 

“Um, High Priest! What do you think about arranging it like this?” Rosina asked, before strumming the tune in her own arrangement. Ferdinand stroked his chin, clearly impressed, then added something to the sheet music in front of him. 

“That would do well for an orchestral arrangement,” he said. 

Rosina and Ferdinand proceeded to make the song together, regularly sharing their thoughts and opinions. Their discussions were so high-level that I couldn’t even grasp a fraction of what they were saying, and the fact that my attendants and guard knights were watching them with impressed expressions led me to believe that none of them understood what was being said either. 

Wilma, meanwhile, had a deadly serious look in her eyes as she continued to draw. 

“Incidentally, Rozemyne... What kind of lyrics are attached to this song?” Ferdinand asked, causing my heart to skip a beat. 

“U-Um, well... It goes like... ‘I want to know what makes you happy. I don’t want this to end before I know. We need love and courage’... Lines like that.” 

“I see. So it is a love song of yearning, then.” 

No! Not at all! I cackled on the inside, all the while maintaining a perfectly neutral expression. That, too, was thanks to my noble training. Who would have thought that an anime song adored by kids would end up as a melodramatic love song in another world? 

Rosina and Ferdinand discussed what lyrics would match the song, deciding upon line after line in a speedy fashion. The lyrics ended up entirely different from what they originally were. 

“This should suffice,” Ferdinand said, before playing the new song from beginning to end. Bright, peaceful music flowed through the air as he sang in his deep, pleasantly reverberating voice, telling the tale of Ewigeliebe the God of Life offering up his love to Geduldh the Goddess of Earth. It was a song in which Ewigeliebe courted Geduldh by singing that he wished to know what made her happy, so while it was founded in religious legends, it was a love song. 

Ferdinand’s beautiful voice trickled into my ears, and despite knowing the original lyrics, I couldn’t help but get goosebumps across my entire body. At some point in the past, I had thought that Ferdinand could get pretty much any girl he wanted by singing them a love song, and he had just given me even more reason to believe that. 

Wilma had forgotten to draw at all, and was instead just staring at Ferdinand with widened eyes; Rosina had always liked Ferdinand as a fellow musician of culture, but now her pupils were basically hearts as she gazed upon him with a broad, dreamy smile; Monika and Nicola both had flushed cheeks; and Brigitte was looking at him in surprise. 

It wasn’t just the women looking at Ferdinand in awe; Fran and Damuel were both impressed by his playing as well. 

...Is having Ferdinand play his harspiel at a concert going to be a lot more dangerous than I thought? 

When I saw Wilma’s excessively aesthetic illustration of Ferdinand, clearly drawn through rose-tinted glasses, I started to seriously rethink whether the concert was a good idea.