Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 4.7 - Chapter 7

The Ternisbefallen Inquiry

Once the streaming black and gold lights had disappeared and the world stopped swirling around me, I was back at the Royal Academy. I reluctantly trudged off of the magic circle at the prompting of my knights.

“Welcome back, Lady Rozemyne,” my retainers said, greeting me collectively.

I smiled at them all. Naturally, at this point, I couldn’t let it show on my face that I hadn’t wanted to come back at all. “And so I have returned,” I said. “Please report what has happened in my absence.”

Rihyarda and Lieseleta started putting away my luggage from the castle while I climbed into Lessy and made my way to the common room with my other retainers. I had them begin their reports along the way, with the book I was about to add to the dormitory bookcase resting safely on my lap.

“I attended Lady Charlotte’s tea parties with Lieseleta and taught Lord Wilfried’s attendants much about sweets and recommended topics of discussion,” Brunhilde said. “Other duchies are taking much interest in Ehrenfest trends.”

It seemed that just like last year, students of other duchies were expressing interest in Ehrenfest sweets and hairpins. On top of that, the Ehrenfest book that Hannelore had recommended was now a hot topic of conversation, and tea parties bloomed with stories of romance.

Aah, that sounds so nice... I wish I’d been there.

I couldn’t imagine a more appealing tea party than one full of girls raving about Ehrenfest books and exchanging stories about knights and romance. Unfortunately, that also made it several times more dangerous for me to attend. The risk was simply too great, and that fact made me sigh in disappointment.

Philine peered at me and smiled, a distinct sparkle in her grass-green eyes. “Lady Rozemyne, I attended Lady Charlotte’s tea party to gather love stories and was very successful,” she said. “In addition to that, many apprentice scholars from other duchies delivered stories they had transcribed themselves. You may wish to look over them yourself so that we can distribute payment.”

“Splendid, Philine.”

The idea of reading the stories accumulated from other duchies caused my mood to do a complete one-eighty from melancholy to overwhelming excitement. After a moment of thought, I clapped my hands together.

Holing up in the castle isn’t an option, so I’ll just have to hole up here in the dormitory!

Since I was forbidden from visiting the library and attending tea parties where books might be discussed, this was the perfect opportunity for me to read alone in my room. There was an abundance of new stories here and no Ferdinand to constantly prod me with criticisms. Now that I thought about it, the dormitory was probably better than the castle.

No, no. I can’t think like that. This is my job! I need to read the stories provided to us by scholars of other duchies and work out how much to pay for them. Then, I need to rewrite them into proper manuscripts to be published. Ah, I’m so busy! Ohoho!

My mounting excitement caused Lessy to speed up on our way back to the common room, and soon enough, we had arrived. I climbed out of my Pandabus and went inside, finding the students who had finished their classes passing time as they saw fit. Wilfried and Charlotte were waiting among them.

“You sure came back early this year, Rozemyne.”

“Welcome back, Sister.”

“And so I have returned,” I said, now so inspired that I gave a genuine smile rather than a fake one. “Please, tell me what has happened in my absence.”

Charlotte explained that she had attended several tea parties to fill the void my return to Ehrenfest had caused. She had finished her classes at a reasonable pace and introduced maternal symbols to the other girls, as I had recommended.

“Thanks to introductions from people like Lady Hannelore and Lady Adolphine, I was able to form a great number of connections with other duchies during the tea parties,” Charlotte continued. “Lady Adolphine seemed very interested in the idea of sharing books when I mentioned it, but as I did not have anything on hand to give her, I promised that we would arrange something at a later date.”

We were still forbidden from informing outsiders of printing technology, so at the moment, Charlotte was lending out the same book to one person after another.

“In that case,” I said, “I just received a new book from Haldenzel. You may lend it to Drewanchel.”

“A new book? Sister, we must read it first,” Charlotte warned. “It would be improper for us to lend it out when we do not know its contents.”

“Good point...” I replied with a nod and took out three books. Two were freshly printed ones I had received through the legal deposit system, while the third I had been given through the good graces of Giebe Haldenzel. “I will leave two of these here in the common room so that Ehrenfest students may read them. The third one is my property, so I will decide whom it may be lent out to.”

“I thank you ever so much, Sister. May I lend it to Lady Adolphine at a tea party two days from now, then?” It seemed that Adolphine had taken quite a shine to Charlotte—so much so that she had promptly invited her to another tea party.

I’m glad things are going well for her, but now I’m losing my opportunity to be an amazing big sister...

I had thought about striving to socialize for Charlotte’s sake, despite having barely any talent for it, but it seemed that she didn’t need my help in the first place. I smiled and nodded, feeling a bit sad about how fast my little sister was growing up.

“But of course,” I replied. “Just remember to borrow a book from Drewanchel at the same time.”

“A book from Drewanchel...?” Charlotte repeated, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Indeed. Books are remarkably expensive, so just as we borrowed a book from Dunkelfelger when lending one of our own, we must borrow one from Drewanchel as well. If we don’t, will it not seem like we have a distrust for Dunkelfelger alone?” I asked, deftly crafting an excellent excuse to get books from other duchies.

Charlotte paled. “My apologies,” she said. “I did not borrow any books from Gilessenmeyer.”

Gilessenmeyer the Fourth was a middle duchy and the birthplace of the king’s first wife—the mother of Sigiswald and Anastasius. It was one of the duchies that had shot up the rankings due to the civil war, and it had an archduke candidate the same age as Charlotte.

“Did Hartmut or Philine not advise you to borrow a book in turn when lending?” I asked, looking over at my retainers. I had informed them well in advance that they needed to guide Charlotte during her tea parties.

Charlotte shook her head in a hurry before my retainers could say anything. “Your retainers told me about your exchange with Dunkelfelger, Sister, but I had interpreted that as something special between you and Lady Hannelore, who similarly loves books. As you say, they are very expensive and cannot be taken out of the duchy so frivolously. For that reason, I never thought about exchanging books with all duchies.”

I rested a hand on my cheek. A part of me wanted to suggest that Charlotte leave things as they were if pushing Gilessenmeyer for a book was going to prove too troublesome, but at the same time, I didn’t want everyone thinking they could take our books whenever they wanted without offering anything in return. Such an outcome would undervalue Ehrenfest books and negatively impact my plan to gather as many books as possible.

“Gilessenmeyer lending us their valuable books certainly won’t be a trivial matter, but it wasn’t for Dunkelfelger either,” I said. “Please make it known during tea parties that our books may be given only as part of an exchange. Furthermore, do contact Gilessenmeyer and ensure they lend us a book in return. I do not mind if they need time to prepare one, but we cannot have them being the only duchy to have borrowed a book for free. My apologies, Charlotte—I should have made this clearer.”

“Oh, no, Sister. It is all my fault for not having checked properly. I will contact Gilessenmeyer at once,” Charlotte replied and then stood up to discuss the matter with her retainers.

I turned to Wilfried. “So, how have you spent your time? Have you finished your lessons?”

“Yep. All of them. I’ve done a lot of socializing too—although mostly with Ortwin.”

It seemed that he had spoken to Klassenberg’s archduke candidate quite regularly as well. Products from Ehrenfest had arrived there at the end of autumn. The women had rejoiced over the rinsham, while the song that Anastasius gave to Eglantine had spread through the public like wildfire.

“Oh, and that reminds me—he mentioned that Prince Anastasius and Lady Eglantine are going to be attending the Interduchy Tournament this year,” Wilfried continued. “They wanted to know if you’ll be there, so I said it’ll depend on your health. Have you had any thoughts on going?”

“Sylvester hasn’t told me I can’t, but I don’t know what my health is going to be like, so I can’t guarantee anything. My guardians all seem very against the idea of me making further contact with royalty, so I might even be told to sit out again this year.”

I didn’t know what reasoning they would come up with, but it was more than possible they would announce my second year of nonattendance.

“Alright. In that case, I’ll tell Father and Uncle that Klassenberg was asking about you,” Wilfried said. “You do want to attend, right?”

“I do.”

As my next order of business, I gave Raimund’s new assignments to Hartmut and told him to tell Hirschur of my arrival while he delivered them. She would probably inform the Sovereignty so that they could arrange the date of the inquiry.

“Are you not taking a substantial risk by leaving things to Professor Hirschur?” Hartmut asked. “There is a very legitimate chance she might forget or feel too apathetic to contact the other professors.”

“If that will allow me to avoid the inquiry, then I welcome it,” I replied. In truth, I was hoping the other professors were busy enough to have forgotten about me entirely.

“That would never happen, Lady Rozemyne—nobody could ever forget you,” Hartmut said with a straight face. I tossed him some work to distract him so that I could finally look over the stacks of paper Philine had prepared for me.

“These are the ones I gathered,” Philine explained, indicating a particular collection of papers. “These are from Hartmut, and these from Roderick.”

“The three of you have done well,” I said. “Now, I shall retire to my room and start checking over these stories. I wish to pay those who have gathered these for us before the last day of school.”

I spent the next few days leaving my room for meals and meals alone. I read through the stories everyone had gathered for me, fixed them up into manuscripts, and then carried out any final checks. In between stories, I would read and transcribe the books and documents I was borrowing from Hannelore and Solange, which made my days quite productive indeed.

And then came the day that Brunhilde arrived with some unfortunate news. “You have an invitation to a tea party, Lady Rozemyne,” she said.

“Please deliver it to Charlotte. I am forbidden from attending tea parties where books are likely to be a topic of discussion, as my retainers will suffer greatly during them.”

“Hm? But you’ve returned during socializing season. Surely you must be allowed to attend tea parties,” Brunhilde said, blinking in disbelief.

I gazed up from my book and smiled. “I was told to attend a tea party with Drewanchel once the hairpin arrives, but as Royal Academy Love Stories has become such a widespread topic of conversation, I cannot attend any others. I would not want to bother my dear retainers any further, as both Ferdinand and Cornelius have warned me. Instead, I intend to focus my efforts on making new books, to assist with the spreading of our duchy’s trends.”

Using my perfectly reasonable logic as an excuse to hole up in my room, I refused all invitations to tea parties and focused on my books. This continued for three days until, at last, Rihyarda’s patience ran out. “For the sake of your health, you must go outside every now and again,” she grumbled as I was trying to read one evening. “Let us go on a walk tomorrow.”

“But where would we even go, Rihyarda?” I asked. “I’ve been forbidden from visiting the library as well.”

“One part of socializing is going on walks and greeting those you stumble upon, my dear.”

Whaaat...? But I finally have some time to myself. I don’t wanna go on walks.

Taking care not to reveal my true feelings, I put on the best “sad girl” face I could muster, taking heavy inspiration from Angelica. “I was told to avoid any further encounters with royalty by whatever means necessary,” I said. “Staying here in the dormitory is the only safe option, I’m afraid.”

“This lifestyle is simply not healthy for you,” Rihyarda replied. “I suppose I must consult Lord Sylvester on the matter.”

I wanted to shout, “No, don’t do that!” but held my tongue—such an outburst would only compromise my somber facade. Instead, I asked that my permission to visit the library be restored and continued reading.

Good, good... Just stay like this.

Unfortunately, my lovely shut-in lifestyle did not continue for much longer after that. An ordonnanz arrived from Hirschur, informing us that a date for the inquiry had now been decided.

Three days from now, at third bell... Tch. How can I focus on reading like this?

A letter from my guardians arrived the same day, clarifying that they did want me attending some tea parties. It seemed that there was nothing I could do to change my fate... but in a desperate bid to delay the inevitable, I sent a response that said, “Very well. I am leaving the decision of which particular tea parties I may attend up to you.”

As I was waiting to hear back from my guardians, the day of the inquiry arrived. “I wished to read in my room, bathing in the warm sunlight streaming through my window,” I said, “but there is no helping a summons from the professors...”

The sky outside was an alluring blue, offering more than enough light for me to read my books. It was such a crying shame that I was having to leave my room today, of all days. I slumped my shoulders in disappointment, at which point Hartmut and Philine tried to console me by saying that I could return to my books when the inquiry was over.

Cornelius watched all this with wide eyes. “Are you still not satisfied, Lady Rozemyne?” he asked. “You have been reading nonstop for almost a week and came out of your room only a handful of times.”

“I could read for the rest of eternity and still not be content,” I said, speaking with the utmost sincerity. “Even after death, I would want to keep reading.”

“Really now...” Cornelius sighed. “Just how serious is this book obsession of yours?”

The inquiry was being held in the Small Hall of the central building. Hirschur was standing outside the door when we arrived, having no doubt been awaiting me.

“Your retainers can stay in a waiting room or return to the dormitory,” she said. “They will receive an ordonnanz to inform them when we are finished.”

Cornelius looked worried to hear this and said, “I believe that knights are allowed to attend meetings.”

“Yes, but this is not a meeting—it is an inquiry. You were all asked to provide your interpretations of events individually, no? Speaking to Lady Rozemyne in isolation is necessary to prevent stealthy signals and other forms of obstruction that would prevent us from cross-referencing testimonies.”

“Hirschur, we are entrusting milady to you,” Rihyarda said. “I will wait here, so there is no need for you to send an ordonnanz.”

“Understood.”

I went inside and saw that the desks were arranged in an upside-down “U” formation of sorts, with the opening closest to me. Sitting at the far end were Rauffen, an unfamiliar man with the build of a Sovereign knight, a blue priest, and Hildebrand, who had Arthur standing behind him. Along the left and right sides were professors of the Royal Academy, not all of whom I recognized.

“Here, Lady Rozemyne,” Hirschur said, directing me to a chair positioned at the center of all the desks. I took a seat, feeling very much like a defendant in a courtroom, and she stood at my side.

“I am glad to see you well, Rozemyne,” Hildebrand said with a smile. “Have you recovered in full?”

I returned a smile and said, “I am fine, as long as I do not push myself.”

“That is good to hear.”

Rauffen nodded in agreement. “So, you’re well enough to be questioned today?” he asked to confirm. I nodded in turn, which prompted Hirschur to introduce those sitting along the farthest line of desks.

“Lady Rozemyne, this is Raublut, the Sovereign knight commander, and Immanuel, the Sovereign High Priest.”

Raublut exudes the same STRONG vibes as Father and Grandfather, but the Sovereign High Priest doesn’t seem like our High Priest at all. He comes across as a bit prideful, but he also looks pretty weak.

Perhaps the Sovereign High Priest was just nervous about being in the presence of so many nobles, since he presumably wouldn’t have been able to attend the Royal Academy as a blue priest. I decided to interpret his stiff expression in a favorable way.

After the introductions, Rauffen gave an overview of the general flow of events, from the discovery of the ternisbefallen to the moment we defeated it. This was presumably for the sake of the other professors—Rauffen himself seemed well aware of what had gone down, having already heard the details from every single Ehrenfest student, including those who hadn’t participated.

“Changes in perspective have given us a number of varying stories, but the core of each remained the same. I’ve determined that we can trust their testimonies,” Rauffen said and then looked at me.

I gazed across the professors and then inhaled deeply. I just needed to follow the advice Ferdinand had given me. My temple upbringing meant that the only weapons and tools I was familiar with were the divine instruments. My upbringing was also the reason I knew so many blessings and so much about the gods, and since nothing about black weapons was taught in the Royal Academy, I hadn’t known that we weren’t allowed to use them. I was aware of there being a difference between the spell and the prayer for producing black weapons, but that ultimately didn’t mean much to me, since I didn’t even know the spell to begin with. Those were the points my guardians had told me to focus on, and for any precise questions, I was meant to respond with one of three excuses.

“I am the High Bishop.”

“That is simply how things are in the Ehrenfest temple.”

“Lord Ferdinand taught me as much.”

As I recited the phrases in my head, Rauffen continued. “Only the knights of duchies that need black weapons are permitted to use them, and the spell is not taught even in the Royal Academy. Even so, Lady Rozemyne, you somehow granted all of the students black weapons. You said that you used a blessing, correct?”

“Correct,” I replied. “I got everyone to repeat the God of Darkness’s blessing, as I knew it was necessary for defeating mana-stealing fey creatures such as trombes.”

“And why do you know the blessing?” Rauffen inquired, continuing his questioning with a stern expression.

“As Ehrenfest’s High Bishop, it is necessary for me to heal the land after a trombe hunt. During these hunts, I witness the Knight’s Order fight trombes, feyplants that steal mana in a fashion similar to ternisbefallens.” Ferdinand had told me that trombes appeared only in Ehrenfest, which was why we were allowed to use black weapons in the first place.

“You accompany Ehrenfest’s Order? Why do they not just summon you after the battle?” Rauffen asked. I could see that he wasn’t the only one confused by my explanation—Raublut the knight commander and Immanuel the Sovereign High Priest were both blinking in surprise. In other duchies, it turned out that the priests and shrine maidens were called after the hunt concluded.

“In the Ehrenfest temple, our High Priest, Lord Ferdinand, participates in the battle,” I replied. “It saves time for both groups to travel together.”

“The High Priest of Ehrenfest participates in battle?!” Immanuel exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. “That is unthinkable!”

“Lord Ferdinand is a member of the archducal family, but he took the knight course as well,” Rauffen noted. “There is nothing strange at all about him participating in the fight. In fact, considering Ehrenfest’s limited manpower, it’s to be expected. However... Lady Rozemyne, do you participate in the battles?”

“No, of course not. I am but a second-year in the Royal Academy, and I have no intention of taking the knight course. I simply have one of my retainers hold Flutrane’s staff while I wait nearby for the hunt to end.”

Although, on this particular occasion, I worked extra hard to get materials for Roderick...

“Hmm... I understand the peculiarities of the Ehrenfest temple a little better now...” Rauffen muttered. “However, the bible does not contain a prayer that grants the God of Darkness’s blessing. How do you explain that?”

“What? Of course it does. How else would one give the blessing?” I asked, completely taken aback. Rauffen immediately looked to Immanuel, who attempted an explanation.

“There is a prayer to the two supreme gods that is spoken during the Starbind Ceremony, but there is no mention of a blessing from the God of Darkness that would create black weapons,” he intoned. “The High Bishop can speak to this as well.”

“Well, Lady Rozemyne?! Explain yourself!” came an unbearable shriek from Fraularm, who was sitting behind one of the desks to my left. I resisted the urge to cover my ears, and a surge of annoyance coursed through me.

I’m the one who wants an explanation! Of course the bible contains prayers for blessings!

It was then that I realized something—some of the transcribed bibles in the temple book room had certain prayers missing. Was the one being used in the Sovereignty similarly incomplete?

“The bible that I use contains the prayer,” I said. “I’m aware that some bibles have information missing depending on when they were transcribed, so perhaps the prayer in question was omitted from the one used in the Sovereign temple.”

“Are you saying that our bible is mistaken, Lady Rozemyne?” Immanuel asked, his voice now harsh and disconcerted. I was sure that nobody had ever dared to contradict him before, but no matter what he said, I wasn’t about to change my position.

“The bible that I use contains the prayer, so that is my natural conclusion. Lord Ferdinand, the High Priest of Ehrenfest, confirmed the prayer’s existence for himself.” My response must have caught Immanuel off guard, as he was flapping his mouth open and closed, so I turned my attention to Rauffen. “Furthermore, according to Lord Ferdinand, the spell for making black weapons differs from the prayer used to give the God of Darkness’s blessing.”

“What?! The prayer and spells are different? Even though they do the same thing?” Rauffen asked, surprised. I could tell that, once again, the other professors were just as astonished.

“I cannot explain any more than that—I do not know the spell and was told that I will never be taught it, since I am not a knight. However, Lord Ferdinand knows both the spell and the prayer, and that is what he said.”

The spell and the prayer were similar in that they were both used to attack mana-sucking feybeasts, but their effects also had minor differences. There was no need for me to point that out here, though, so I decided not to say anything more.

“I’ve always assumed that prayers and spells were exactly the same...” Rauffen said with a sigh.

All of a sudden, Gundolf, the supervisor of the Drewanchel Dormitory, raised a hand in request of permission to speak. He was the old man I had spoken to last year during my highbeast creation class—and also Hirschur’s research partner and rival, apparently.

“Lady Rozemyne, what interests me most is the regeneration of the gathering spot,” he said. “That made very little sense to me. The ritual you used would normally require many blue priests and shrine maidens—and for several days, at that. You, however, had managed to complete it by the time we arrived.”

“Exactly!” Fraularm shrieked again, standing up from her chair with a loud clatter and staring down her nose at me. “Ehrenfest’s gathering spot should have been poisoned by the ternisbefallen! So, what did you do, Lady Rozemyne? Be honest!”

Gundolf actually put his hands over his ears this time. I wanted to do the same, but with so many eyes on me, it simply wasn’t an option.

“I, too, wish to hear how you managed to perform such a ritual in less than a bell,” Immanuel said, narrowing his eyes at me and furrowing his brow. He must have been the one who usually oversaw such rituals here.

“The Sovereign High Priest is correct!” Fraularm cried. “Everything that you do is bizarre and unnatural, Lady Rozemyne! Even your highbeast is strange!” She was apparently one to hold a grudge, as she started whining about the highbeast incident from last year. The surrounding professors grimaced in annoyance, but they still seemed to share her and the Sovereign High Priest’s doubts.

I just wanna go home. I wanna go home and read.

As I gazed across the professors around me, my feelings of apathy only started to grow. I genuinely had no idea how, even with so many of them here, they were unable to understand such a simple concept. The very idea of needing to explain everything from the beginning drained me.

“The temple is not a place that nobles visit often, so while this may be obvious, the questions that you ask of me are reminiscent of asking Ewigeliebe the God of Life what he yearns for most,” I said. It was a fancy euphemism that essentially meant, “How can you not grasp something so obvious?”

Hirschur rubbed her temples. “I understand that Ferdinand often spits venom with a smile, but please refrain from imitating that habit.”

Hm...? I didn’t spit any venom. All I did was point out how ignorant everyone’s being. 

However, it seemed that Hirschur’s interpretation was the common one. Everyone viewed my response as highly insulting.

“And what do you mean by that?” Immanuel asked quietly, his emotionless gray eyes fixed on me. “I was raised in the temple, and I believe that I know more about it than almost any other.”

Ah... Whoops. I just told someone brought up in the temple that they don’t know anything about it. I can see why that came across as an insult.

“I was speaking to the professors when I said that. In your case, the nobility is what you struggle to understand,” I replied, trying to clarify my position. Immanuel frowned in response, and some of the professors seemed confused as well, so I continued. “I am an archduke candidate who came first in her class. Do you truly think that my mana capacity can be compared to those of the blue priests and shrine maidens who never attended the Royal Academy, do not own a schtappe, and have not learned to compress their mana? I certainly do not.”

Rauffen and the other professors widened their eyes, their understanding clear on their faces. Immanuel opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it again and gritted his teeth. He had clearly wanted to protest but was unable to do so.

“Professor Rauffen—you say that it takes many blue priests many days to perform the ceremony,” I went on, “but do you not have the mana of several blue priests yourself?”

“I can’t say exactly how it would compare,” Rauffen replied, “but I think I could supply enough mana to take the place of several priests, yes.”

It was only natural that he could; after all, Rauffen was a top-class noble who had been selected to move to the Sovereignty and work as a professor. It was absurd to even compare him to a blue priest.

As Rauffen nodded to himself, Gundolf turned his attention to me and leaned forward. “I understand that all of us professors are capable of providing enough mana for the ritual, and that you are not peculiar in that regard,” he said, “but how do you explain performing it so quickly?”

“Nobles have access to many things that priests do not,” I replied. “The matter is as simple as that. My larger mana capacity did play a role, but the greatest contributing factor was my rejuvenation potions.”

“Aah, I see...” Gundolf said, stroking the potions hanging from his belt.

Nobles always carried rejuvenation potions with them in case they accidentally used too much mana during lessons or whatnot. Temple priests, in contrast, never took lessons at the Academy, so they never learned to make potions for themselves. They had no choice but to wait for their mana to recover naturally, which made a big difference in the grand scheme of things.

Of course, Ferdinand made my rejuvenation potions for me, so they were much more effective than those one learned to make in the Royal Academy, but there was no need for me to point that out. What mattered was making Gundolf understand that nobles had ways to recover their mana, while priests did not.

“In short,” Gundolf said, “you carry with you many rejuvenation potions. As a result, there was no need for you to spend days waiting for your mana to recover, or for you to swap places with others while taking care not to interrupt the ritual. Is that correct?”

And with that short summary, the professors all seemed to understand the situation. This was a good sign. Hopefully, they would allow me to leave the matter at that.

“As Professor Gundolf says, I simply happen to be in the unique circumstances of serving as both an archduke candidate and a High Bishop,” I explained. “The events of that day were nothing unusual at all. Even a professor could perform the ritual as long as they had a divine instrument and could recite the necessary prayers.”

I assumed that would settle things and exhaled in relief, only for Rauffen to suddenly look up. “Lady Rozemyne, I am told you created a divine instrument for the regeneration ritual,” he said. “Would you care to explain that?”

“How dare you make a false divine instrument!” Fraularm shrieked. “I can hardly believe the disrespect!” By this point in the discussion, everyone was so used to her outbursts that they glanced over at her and nothing more.

I similarly glanced over at Fraularm, then looked at Rauffen. “As you all know, I was raised in the temple, so when it comes to weapons and the like, I am familiar only with the instruments the gods wield upon the shrine. Lord Ferdinand can trivially create both normal weapons and divine instruments, but embarrassingly enough, I am not that capable. I can only morph my schtappe into the divine instruments, as they are what I am most familiar with using. I imagine that if any given blue priest had a schtappe, then they, too, would experience the same issue.”

In summary, the average noble couldn’t visualize the divine instruments clearly enough to morph their schtappe into one, since they never interacted with them.

Hildebrand stared at me, a glimmer in his light-purple eyes. “Rozemyne, what are the divine instruments like?” he asked, breaking the silence he had maintained up until that point. “I want to see one.”

“Erm...”

The entire room went quiet; nobody had expected the attending royal to speak. Arthur rested a hand on the prince’s shoulder, prompting him to realize his mistake and clasp a hand over his mouth.

“So you make divine instruments, Lady Rozemyne?” Gundolf asked. “I would very much appreciate the chance to see that. A demonstration, if you please.”

“I saw it with my own eyes in class,” Rauffen noted, working alongside his colleague to cover for the prince’s blunder. “Her Leidenschaft’s spear was brilliantly blue and a thing to behold.”

I carefully eyed Hirschur beside me. She thought for a moment and then said, “Might you show us, then? I am sure that some here today still doubt the idea that one could actually form the divine instruments. If you demonstrate it now, it will make your claims that much more believable.”

I could tell from following her eyes that it was Fraularm who still doubted every word of what I was saying. Hirschur added in a whisper that by covering for Hildebrand, I would no doubt earn a favor from his retainers.

“Very well,” I said. “I will morph my schtappe and present a divine instrument. Considering where we are, Leidenschaft’s spear seems a little too dangerous, so I would rather create Flutrane’s staff, which I used during the regeneration ritual. Would that be satisfactory, Prince Hildebrand?”

The prince gave a relieved smile, having been flustered from his mistake. “Yes. Thank you, Rozemyne.”

I returned a smile and then extended a hand to Hirschur; I couldn’t gracefully stand up from my seat without assistance. A moment passed in silence before she realized my intention and obliged.

After coming to my feet, I produced my schtappe. It was very simple in design—I certainly hadn’t put much work into making it fancy like Wilfried’s—but everyone leaned forward nonetheless. Even if their expressions were unchanged, they were blatantly curious to see what happened next. And most curious of all seemed to be Raublut, the Sovereign knight commander.

I inhaled as all eyes fell on me. My schtappe wouldn’t morph unless I could produce a crystal clear mental image of my desired result, and messing up here would be disastrous. I closed my eyes and envisioned Flutrane’s staff.

“Streitkolben,” I said, and an instant later, Flutrane’s staff was in my hand. The long shaft was ornately carved and dotted with rows of tiny feystones. An elaborate work of gold at the end enveloped a large green feystone, which was glowing with gently pulsating light, since the divine instruments made with my mana were filled with mana at all times.

Immanuel stood up with a clatter, his previously dead eyes now filled with shock and transfixion. “Flutrane’s staff...” he croaked. His head swayed as though he were drunk, and he leaned closer, trying to take in as much of the instrument as possible.

This reaction seemed to confirm to all those present that the staff really was Flutrane’s. A stir ran through the room, and everyone wore looks of surprise or curiosity. Hildebrand, alone, was regarding me with innocent awe and praise.

“I see the divine instruments are very pretty...” the prince said. “I had never seen one before. Thank you for accommodating my wish.”

“It was my honor, Prince Hildebrand,” I replied and then chanted “rucken” to revert my schtappe; there was no need to maintain the transformation when he was already satisfied.

No sooner had the staff disappeared than the professors snapped back to reality. They readjusted themselves in their seats until they were sitting straight and proper once more. Immanuel continued to stare at me for a while longer, his eyes wide, then slowly sat back down like the others. With his eyes closed, he whispered, “So, one truly can make the divine instruments with a schtappe...”

“Well, that’s that—it only makes sense that Lady Rozemyne would possess more mana than a blue priest,” Rauffen said. It sounded a lot like he was bringing this meeting to a close, and I clenched my fists victoriously.

Perfect. He’s convinced. I’ve settled everything. I can finally leave!

Or so I thought; Immanuel slowly looked at me and said, “I am not yet convinced.” His voice was just as quiet and polite as before, but now, his eyes seemed to be gleaming. “Your mana capacity is far greater than that of an average blue priest—that much cannot be denied. We also cannot deny that a noble could complete the ritual much faster than usual through the use of potions. Instead, my issue lies with your explanation for the God of Darkness’s blessing.”

The professors looked up. It seemed as though our inquiry had reached its natural conclusion, but here Immanuel was, trying to rekindle the dying flame. I was struck with the urge to rub my temples like Ferdinand and groan, “For what sane reason would you do this?”

“Lady Rozemyne—you claim that the bible used in the Sovereign Temple is mistaken, but that cannot be true,” Immanuel continued. “It was granted to us by the first king, and we have ensured its preservation ever since. Does it not seem more likely that the version kept in Ehrenfest is the oddment and contains sections that were added unnecessarily?”

I couldn’t offer a response. Although the prayer in question had actually been featured in our bible, Bezewanst certainly had made notes all throughout the holy book, so it was true to say that ours was tampered with.

Ngh... Curse you, Bezewanst!

“Your silence speaks volumes!” Fraularm screeched. “You made heinous changes to the bible! Goodness! Oh, goodness me! How sacrilegious!”

As I was suppressing the urge to shout, “It was the previous High Bishop, not me!” in response, Rauffen glared at her. “Fraularm, could you keep quiet?” he said. “You forget yourself. This is temple business—it’s not for us professors to get involved in.”

“Goodness!” Fraularm shrieked again; then, she sat down and pursed her lips in frustration. I could tell that Hildebrand was giving me a panicked look.

Well, the bible is the symbol of the High Bishop’s authority, but... That’s a rather strange way of putting it.

I rested a deliberate hand on my cheek and tilted my head at Immanuel. “That certainly isn’t a perspective we’ve considered,” I said. “Would that mean Ehrenfest added a random prayer to the bible, and that it just so happened to have the power to grant the God of Darkness’s blessing?”

“Th-That is not what I...” Immanuel replied, but his nervous stuttering was cut short by a bark of laughter from the knight commander. Raublut, who had thus far remained silent, turned to give the Sovereign High Priest a nasty grin.

“If some priests in the Ehrenfest temple can get blessings by chanting random prayers, that’d make them better than you lot in the Sovereign temple,” he said. It was an interestingly critical remark—I had assumed the three at the Sovereignty table were on good terms on account of them all sitting together, but that evidently wasn’t the case. “Doesn’t this mean the bible you keep saying will show the path to the true king is, in fact, missing a bunch of pieces?” he continued. “Could you really call a king chosen by something so lacking the proper king?”

Wait... Is Raublut opposed to the biblical fundamentalists or something?

“The Sovereign bible is the correct one,” Immanuel retorted. “I would rather you keep your sacrilegious comments to yourself.”

“We’ll see about that. It seems the Saint of Ehrenfest has other ideas.”

My earlier statement had more or less poured oil onto the sparks that were already flying between the faction supporting the current king and the biblical fundamentalists. In my thoughts, I dropped to my knees and groveled at the feet of an imaginary Ferdinand.

I’m sorry! So sorry! I might have just made a really serious mistake! It’s not my fault, though! I’ve said from the beginning that we used the God of Darkness’s blessing, so I couldn’t lie about where I read the prayer! And our bible certainly isn’t the inaccurate one here!

As the Sovereign knight commander Raublut and the Sovereign High Priest Immanuel glared at each other, Gundolf spoke up with a peaceful smile. “Could I ask the two of you to calm down?” Having an older man there to mediate the situation seemed to work wonders, as they both shut their mouths and turned to face forward—that is, toward me.

Immanuel was watching me carefully, as though there was something he wished to say. Raublut, in contrast, had a more amused expression. I wanted to run from them both.

“Hm...” Gundolf eyed the three of us one by one while stroking his beard. “Perhaps it would be best to bring both the Sovereign and Ehrenfest bibles together to compare them? We professors have no business with the temple, and we have seen neither bible, so there is little we can determine on our own.”

Although he was trying to come across as an impartial third party, it was clear that Gundolf simply wanted to see the bibles for himself. His seemingly kind gesture was actually a scheme to appease his rampant curiosity—he didn’t appear to care whether the king had the divine mandate or the fundamentalists were right. In fact, I was doubtful that he cared about anything I was saying at all.

“That is an excellent idea, Professor Gundolf. By comparing the two bibles side by side, we can see which one is correct for ourselves,” Hirschur said, an unmistakable sparkle in her eyes. I could tell from the merriment in her voice that she found the whole idea very entertaining.

If you asked me, the mad scientists were better off shutting up and allowing those of us serving the temple to deal with this problem. Little did they know, their suggestion was exceptionally dangerous. Our bible now contained weird text and a magic circle that seemed to pop up whenever the book was opened, and if other people saw it, they’d immediately assume we were challenging the current king. What was the solution here?

“Unfortunately, I am unable to bring Ehrenfest’s bible here,” I said. “Each duchy’s temple has only the one, no? I would find it much more convenient to bring a transcribed copy.”

“Oh! Goodness!” Fraularm exclaimed. “This gives us even more reason to investigate Ehrenfest’s bible for any strange inclusions! Lady Rozemyne is clearly trying to hide something!”

“N-No, I’m not!” I protested, but it was no use—Immanuel already had a determined glint in his eye.

“Comparing bibles seems to be ideal,” he said. His expression betrayed as little emotion as usual, but I could sense his resolve. “I will ask the High Bishop for ours.”

My chance of salvaging the situation had taken a nosedive, while the odds of me receiving a lecture were higher than ever. I needed to take action. Unless I could think of a way to resolve this peacefully and without needing to present our bible, my reading time would take a massive hit.

Um, let’s see... Maybe I could double down on us not being able to bring our bible and propose that we just agree the Sovereign bible is correct, despite its missing prayer. No, that would only make things worse. They’d assume I was picking a fight, and the demands to see our bible would only increase. Gahhh! A good idea! Please, let me come up with a good idea!

As I was desperately racking my brain, Rauffen came up with his own suggestion. “The Sovereign High Bishop brings his temple’s bible to the Royal Academy for royal debuts and the Starbinding Ceremony. Surely it can’t be much of an issue for you to do the same.”

“Indeed,” Gundolf agreed.

Nah, nah, nah. It’ll be a huge issue. Ferdinand will yell at me for sure!

I was desperately searching for an escape, but no good excuses came to mind. And as I continued to agonize, the conversation carried on without me.

Hold on! Please! I’m thinking right now!

In the end, the decision was made without my input—the two bibles were going to be inspected and compared. The professors rose from their seats and started to bid their farewells until then.

“Now, Lady Rozemyne—do you have any disagreements?”

“I am already content to agree that the Sovereign bible is correct, so I see no need for this comparison. Everyone is so busy. Is this not just a waste of valuable time?” It was a last-ditch attempt, but before I could even ask for the comparison meeting to be canceled, Fraularm barked some nonsense about my guilt being obvious.

Rauffen shut Fraularm up with a grin and then turned to me. “Don’t worry, Lady Rozemyne—I don’t think you’re lying. You were able to give the God of Darkness’s blessing, so the prayer must be in your bible. We just want to see it for ourselves.”

“Is that really necessary for us to agree that the Sovereign bible is correct?” I asked, but it seemed that I was the only one who considered it unneeded. Everyone else was enthusiastic about the inspection—especially the professors with scientific streaks.

Most enthusiastic of all was Raublut, who looked down at Immanuel with a taunting smirk. “As of now, we can’t say for sure whether the Sovereign temple’s bible is correct. We need to take a close look at both—such is what King Trauerqual would want. Lady Rozemyne of Ehrenfest, your help here will be very much appreciated.”

“Will” be? I suppose because, even if I were to refuse, you’d order me to comply anyway.

“Understood,” I replied while slumping my shoulders. At the moment, I was technically bringing the bible of my own volition. Trying to refuse any longer would only result in the request turning into an order, which would infuriate my guardians to no end.

“Alright, Lady Rozemyne,” Rauffen said. “Have Lord Ferdinand bring the bible, since he can understand both nobles and priests.”

Um, what...? Ferdinand? Pray tell, why is his name coming up now, out of absolutely nowhere?

I could only blink in confusion, at which point Rauffen grinned and gave me a wooden letter of invitation. “All of your explanations seemed to have come from Lord Ferdinand in one way or another. I expect that he’s the only person able to explain the differences between the Darkness spell and prayer. Not to mention... I want to use this opportunity to have a long talk with him about you joining the knight course.”

Wait—what does that last point have to do with anything?!

Going into the inquiry, my plan had been to quash everyone’s protests and escape scot-free... but now, my protests were the ones being quashed.

Strange. It wasn’t supposed to be this way...

I was in a complete daze when I exited the Small Hall. The most I could do was stare at the letter of invitation in my hands.

As soon as I returned to the dorm, Wilfried told me to give a report on the inquiry. I explained everything that had transpired while my retainers gathered around me.

“What?! They summoned one of your guardians?!” Wilfried exclaimed. “That usually never happens, unless it’s something major like someone being expelled from the Royal Academy.”

This incident was far, far worse than something like an expulsion, and it involved many more people. However, I put on as peaceful a smile as I could muster and said, “This is merely so they can check our duchy’s bible, which is also why Ferdinand was summoned, not Sylvester. I do not expect to be expelled from the Royal Academy or anything of the sort.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about! This shouldn’t be happening in the first place!”

“You have a point, but what more can I say...?”

It wasn’t as though I wanted this to happen; everyone had taken a peculiar interest in my bible, for some reason. Not to mention, I really had put my all into coming up with an excuse of some kind that would afford me a way out. I just hadn’t been able to come up with anything.

“Write a thorough report to Uncle. His follow-up questions are going to be brutal.”

“I know.”

Alongside my report to Ehrenfest, I sent the letter of invitation that Rauffen had given me. The meeting was scheduled for the morning three days from now.

Sigh... I can feel my reading time disappearing. In the end, it was all but a fragile dream.

And so, I became the first archduke candidate in Ehrenfest history to have one of their guardians summoned to the Royal Academy.