Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.3 - Chapter 14

Detlinde’s Dedication Whirl

Basking in all the attention from the audience, Detlinde, draped in the robes of the Goddess of Light, scooted toward Lestilaut, who was dressed as the God of Darkness. He looked at her with a grimace, having been burdened with the duty of escorting her onstage for the dedication whirl.

“Will you even be able to whirl while dressed so ornately?” Lestilaut asked, daring to broach the question that was on everyone’s lips. I wanted to give him a standing ovation; as far as I was concerned, being able to say something so frank while in his position made him a genuine hero.

Unfortunately, the purpose of our hero’s question did not reach Detlinde. “Yes, of course I can,” she replied, very deliberately looking down at her hands. “I practiced diligently to make sure.”

I think Lord Lestilaut was asking about your hair ornaments, so where are you looking? Is there something on your wrists? Feystones, maybe?

Indeed, it seemed that her ridiculous hairdo wasn’t her only extravagance; she was wearing enough feystones to ensure heads would turn. I was openly shocked by how thoroughly she had prepared for today. How had she managed to get it all past Ferdinand, of all people?

As I contemplated my own question, the archduke candidates ascended the stage, their long sleeves swaying with each step. It was the God of Darkness’s role to escort the Goddess of Light... but Lestilaut was doing his absolute best not to look at Detlinde at all. He wasn’t even staring straight ahead; his head was tilted slightly away from her.

You’re making the same face that Ferdinand was a moment ago! But do your best, Lord Lestilaut!

The archduke candidates took their respective positions, then knelt down and touched the stage. That movement alone was enough to make Detlinde’s hair waver precariously, but she didn’t seem to care. I was probably more worried about it collapsing than she was.

“I am one who offers prayer and gratitude to the gods who have created the world,” Lestilaut began—and once again, a magic circle appeared atop the pure-white stage. No one else could see it, so I kept my mouth shut and just watched.

Music started to play, and the whirlers slowly rose to their feet. Their long sleeves swayed as they gracefully raised their hands, and with that, it was time for the dedication whirl to begin.

Oh. She’s actually trying to sparkle...

Immediately, the feystones dotting Detlinde’s clothes started to glow. She had evidently hidden them all over her body. The feystones on her wrists and in her hair did the same—and as she was the only person covered in lights, she really did draw more attention to herself. As for the quality of her whirling, well... it could hardly be described as excellent. Her head moved as cumbersomely as one would expect, and the way her hair wobbled whenever she twirled was very distracting.

“Ooh, the Goddess of Light is shining...” Sylvester whispered. “Is this what Rozemyne’s whirling was like?”

Charlotte gave a half-smile and shook her head. “The feystones Sister wore were of a much higher quality. She had the rainbow feystones on her hair stick coupled with her various charms, so her lights were far more dazzling than those tiny dots. Naturally, I was aware of the circumstances, so I was less absorbed in the beauty of the spectacle and more terrified of what blessings might leak out.”

A cold sweat ran down my back. At the time, I’d been so focused on keeping my mana in check that I hadn’t even considered how I must have looked.

“Um, Charlotte... did I stand out more than Lady Detlinde does now?” I asked.

“You were shining so much that I stopped my own whirling without realizing it just to stare at you. I think that says it all,” Wilfried said, answering in her place.

NOOO! I stood out more than Lady Detlinde?! How much of an attention hog do people think I am?!

As I screamed on the inside, Detlinde’s lights went out. She must have noticed because she furrowed her brow for a moment, and the glowing returned a few seconds later. Then it disappeared again. This process repeated several times.

No matter where I tried to focus, my eyes were inevitably drawn back to the flickering lights. Initially, I thought she was doing it on purpose to get even more attention... but on closer inspection, I noticed her grimace slightly each time her feystones lost their glow. This clearly wasn’t what she wanted.

Then why is she making them flash...? Hm? Wait, is that mana?

I could see the faintly colored mana simmering around her—an obvious sign that she was expending far too much—and getting sucked into the magic circle. Was everyone seeing this, or was it only visible to those who could see the magic circle? Instinctively, I turned to Ferdinand. The fake smile had disappeared from his face, and he was watching the stage with a very serious frown.

“Is it my imagination, or has Lady Detlinde begun to leak mana...?” Florencia murmured.

Charlotte shook her head. “I can see it too. I thought it was an illusion at first, but... does it not seem to be steadily growing thicker?”

Ah, so I wasn’t the only one who could see the simmering mana. Everyone else must have noticed too because a stir ran through the audience, and some began to question just how much mana she was releasing.

“Er, Rozemyne... is that healthy?” Sylvester asked. “All that mana coming out of her, I mean.”

“You should know, Rozemyne,” Wilfried added. “In the past, you ended up like that all the time.”

Despite their expectations, I didn’t have a clue. It was true that my mana sometimes leaked out when I was trying to hold it back or when I got too emotional, but I’d never deliberately channeled it into feystones positioned all over my clothes.

“Never before have I used my mana to make feystones all over my body shine, so I cannot speak to Lady Detlinde’s precise condition. However, I can say that expending that much mana puts one’s body under immense pressure—so much so that I always end up bedridden for days, even with potions.”

I was trying to be completely serious, but Sylvester just gave me a look of exasperation. “That doesn’t tell us anything. You end up bedridden just trying to go outside.”

“Then I don’t know.”

I thought back to all the students exhausted from the Dedication Ritual and the Haldenzel women who fell unconscious after the ritual for summoning spring forcibly sucked out their mana. Considering all that, my evaluation seemed pretty accurate—but I didn’t know the details.

“Still,” I said, “Lady Detlinde is an archduke candidate set to become the next aub. She is presumably used to offering her mana, so this might not even register as an inconvenience. She should be fine.”

But no sooner had the words left my mouth than members of the audience started shouting out. Detlinde suddenly lurched forward, collapsing toward the God of Darkness who had been whirling beside her.

She isn’t fine at all!

My breath caught in my throat as I watched the stage. It felt like everything was happening in slow motion—and at that moment, one of the red flowers securing Detlinde’s hair fell out.

“What the...?!” shouted an audience member.

I wasn’t sure of the reason for what happened next. It was possible that Lestilaut had been too focused on his whirling to notice, or maybe he had still been trying to avoid looking at Detlinde. Perhaps his outstretched arm had simply obscured his view, putting her in a blind spot. At any rate, the outcome was the same: Lestilaut, a trained Dunkelfelger archduke candidate, was late in noticing the girl falling toward him.

“Wha—?” he exclaimed with wide eyes as his spinning body collided with something hard. He had slammed straight into Detlinde, causing her to lose her already shaky footing and topple backward. This time, she was heading straight for the archduke candidate playing the Goddess of Wind.

Detlinde’s remaining hair ornaments fell out, causing her already insecure hairdo to finally come apart. Audience members called out, trying to warn the girl dancing as the Goddess of Wind, but their cries didn’t reach her in time; while her sleeves dangled from her outstretched arms, she was knocked straight onto her rear.

The moment Detlinde landed facedown on the stage, the magic circle began to shine—but only for a brief moment before it returned to normal.

“Did anyone else see that magic circle on the stage?” someone asked.

It had shone for only a few seconds at most, but in those few seconds, it had evidently been burned into everyone’s memories. The audience buzzed with chatter about this unfamiliar occurrence.

“Why was a magic circle there, of all places?”

“What in the world was that...?”

As the voices became more numerous, I saw Ferdinand put a hand on his forehead. Our eyes met, and, after a contemplative look, he subtly pressed a finger against his lips.

So, basically... don’t say anything?

“Let there be silence!” shouted the Sovereign High Bishop. “The dedication whirl is not yet complete!”

“Religious ceremonies cannot be interrupted,” echoed the Sovereign High Priest, likewise trying to reclaim the attention of the noisy audience and the students now staring at the stage in bewilderment. Unfortunately for them, Detlinde was unconscious, and the girl performing as the Goddess of Wind was crushed beneath her; there was no way for the dance to continue.

“Lady Detlinde cannot be left in her current state,” Ferdinand informed the Ahrensbach nobles. “Let us go.” He stood up and climbed the steps up onto the stage, at which point the nobles snapped back to reality and mobilized as well.

“You,” Ferdinand continued, “take Lady Detlinde away and get her attendants to remove her whirling outfit. The rest of you, retrieve her hair ornaments.”

Detlinde was picked up by one of her retainers and carried down from the stage, while the others did as instructed and retrieved the scattered ornaments. Ferdinand watched as his fiancée was taken off, then crouched down in front of the student playing the Goddess of Wind, who was still sitting on the ground, and sought her forgiveness.

“I sincerely apologize that Lady Detlinde’s passing out caused you so much trouble. You must be in pain from your fall, even now. May I grant you healing?”

“...You may.”

Ferdinand gave the girl Heilschmerz’s healing before offering her his hand and pulling her to her feet. He confirmed that she was no longer in pain, then swiftly descended the stage.

Beneath the stage, Detlinde’s attendants helped to remove her Goddess of Light robes. Ferdinand instructed for the clothes to be given to the Sovereign temple, then left the auditorium; Georgine had asked him to tend to his unconscious fiancée.

“The dedication whirl shall begin anew.”

The robes that Detlinde had worn were given to a priest of the Sovereign temple, who in turn handed them to a reserve archduke candidate. She rushed to put them on, then climbed onto the stage. The dedication whirl would recommence under the direction of the Sovereign High Bishop.

“I am one who offers prayer and gratitude to the gods who have created the world,” Lestilaut began again.

And so, with the crowd still no less feverish, the dedication whirl was performed again. This one ended without incident—nobody started to glow, and the magic circle didn’t shine—and the bell announcing it was lunchtime rang soon after.

“From start to finish, Lady Detlinde sure was full of surprises,” Wilfried remarked. We had all seen her mountainous hairstyle, her glowing feystones, her sudden collapse, and the appearance of a mysterious magic circle, so it seemed safe to say that she was the hottest topic of this year’s graduation ceremony. Even in the Ehrenfest Dormitory, everyone was focused on her antics.

“I never knew that there was a magic circle there.”

Leonore exchanged a glance with Lieseleta and then said, “We graduating students were not able to see it.” They had been under the stage at the time, so the others who had watched from the raised audience seats explained what they had seen.

“Rozemyne, Charlotte,” Wilfried said, “didn’t that circle remind you of the one from Haldenzel? Er, it disappeared before anything happened, but still—both suddenly came up from a white stage and needed some kind of conditions to be met before they activated.”

Charlotte and I nodded. They might not have shared the same sigils and patterns, but they had both risen from an otherwise pure-white platform.

“Rozemyne, did you recognize that magic circle?” Sylvester asked, his eyes scrutinizing. “Dedication whirls are religious events too, so it wouldn’t surprise me.”

I shook my head and replied, “I did not. Dedication whirls are not performed in Ehrenfest, so it may be unique to the Sovereign temple.”

“I see...” Sylvester murmured. The dubious look on his face made it obvious that he still doubted me, but before anything else could be said about the matter, an ordonnanz arrived. We had almost finished our food, but it was still rare to receive such correspondence during lunchtime.

The bird landed in front of me and opened its beak. “Lady Rozemyne, this is Eglantine. Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but we are sending a messenger to your tea party room. Will you accept the letter they bring?” She was speaking peacefully, but the timing of this ordonnanz and what she was suggesting were practically unheard of under normal circumstances. Something major was happening.

I looked at Sylvester.

“Send a response,” he said. “We’re going to the tea party room.”

“Understood.” I sent a brief reply as advised, then rushed to finish my lunch. Once I was done, every member of the archducal family present for the Interduchy Tournament went to the tea party room, where we intended to drink tea and wait for the messenger.

“Retainers, stand down,” Sylvester said. “This is an urgent request from the royal family. We should clear the room ahead of time.”

Our retainers left, save for a few guard knights. Sylvester watched them go, then turned to Florencia with a look of genuine concern.

“I don’t expect this letter to be anything good. Shouldn’t you return to your room and rest?”

She shook her head. “Whether I am informed now or later does not matter; the shock will be the same. Thus, I shall stay here as Ehrenfest’s first wife.”

Sylvester gave a resigned nod.

“What might this be about?” I wondered aloud.

“The magic circle, obviously,” Sylvester replied. “That’s the only urgent business I can think of that can’t be settled via ordonnanz.”

I exhaled. In that case, we would need to consult Ferdinand too; I couldn’t say much on my own.

The mounting tension in the room was interrupted by the chime of a small bell, and Anastasius’s head attendant Oswin arrived as our messenger. He thanked us for having already cleared the room, then asked Sylvester for permission to use an area-affecting sound-blocker.

“I do not mind. Guard knights, step outside the range of the tool.”

Oswin activated the tool, then held out the letter. “Lady Rozemyne, this is from Prince Anastasius. I understand that this is exceptionally rude, but I have been instructed not to return without a reply.”

I opened the letter and read it. Anastasius sending his head attendant was enough for me to have guessed this was something major, but that didn’t stop my head from spinning. As it turned out, during lunch, the Sovereign High Bishop and High Priest had revealed that the magic circle we had all seen was meant for selecting the next Zent. In other words, Detlinde was now considered the best candidate to rule the entire country.

Wowee. Lady Detlinde’s ranked up from future aub to future Zent?

None of the royal family had known about the circle, and it hadn’t shone when Sigiswald, Anastasius, or Eglantine performed their dedication whirls. As a result, the Sovereign temple had taken its appearance now to mean that it was almost time for a proper Zent to be selected—one to replace the current Grutrissheit-less ruler.

Before any strange rumors could spread, Anastasius wanted to confirm that the magic circle really was for selecting the next Zent and that Detlinde truly was closest to taking the role. Apparently, if she managed to secure a Grutrissheit, Trauerqual intended to cede the throne to her.

Wait, are we seriously talking about Lady Detlinde being the next Zent?! Please, no! What kind of nightmare reality would that be?!

Because I was familiar with religious ceremonies and magic circles, they wanted my input on the Sovereign temple’s statements. Anastasius had even asked that I visit his villa in the afternoon when all of the Sovereign priests were busy with the graduation ceremony. It was phrased as a request, but when you considered the sender and the fact that a time had been specified... it was a de facto order.

“As much as it pains me, you are the only person outside of the Sovereign temple whom the royal family can consult about religious matters,” Oswin said. He was wearing his usual peaceful smile, but I sensed some anxiety in his voice. It was easy to imagine why. Anyone would quaver at the thought of an Ahrensbach archduke candidate who had worn her hair so ridiculously during her coming-of-age ceremony becoming Yurgenschmidt’s next ruler.

But this is beyond me! Aieee! Ferdinand, help!

“The dedication whirl is an affair of the Sovereign temple,” Sylvester said. “Thus, Rozemyne knows nothing about it. Isn’t that right?”

I nodded again and again. Our cover story was that I didn’t know anything.

Sylvester looked at Oswin. “This is a royal summons, so I intend to let Rozemyne go. That said, the royal family is more likely to find the answers they seek from Ferdinand of Ahrensbach. You even have an excuse to speak with him, since this matter concerns his fiancée.”

Given the circumstances, we couldn’t refuse a royal summons—but Sylvester’s recommendation meant I would at least have Ferdinand with me.

Oswin nodded and took out his ordonnanz. He looked very clearly anxious as he said, “It seems probable that Lord Ferdinand will know more about the ritual. Ehrenfest has suggested that we summon him under the pretense of asking about Lady Detlinde.” He then sent the bird to Eglantine and returned his attention to Sylvester. “We thank you for your valuable proposal, Aub Ehrenfest.”

With that, Oswin retrieved the sound-blocking magic tool and briskly took his leave. It wasn’t long before only those of Ehrenfest’s archducal family remained in the tea party room. Everyone looked concerned.

“I never thought that circle would be for picking the next Zent...”

“Wilfried, don’t say that,” Sylvester protested. “We don’t yet know if that’s true, and I personally don’t believe it is. In any case—Rozemyne, bring back news of what Ferdinand says.”

“Right.”

Ahrensbach shared a border with Ehrenfest and was the new home of our Ferdinand. How this incident with Detlinde was dealt with would have an enormous impact on our duchy too, so we needed to know as much as we could.

“If the royal family wants to learn these things during the graduation ceremony, then everyone else should be acting normal,” Sylvester continued. “Rozemyne, we’ll make out that you took ill again. Rihyarda will go with you... and I think we can summon Karstedt if we hurry.”

Sylvester and everyone else would attend the graduation ceremony as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, I would wait until the function was underway and then go to Anastasius’s villa with Rihyarda and Karstedt.

“Anyway, by asking them to summon Ferdinand, I’ve ensured that you’ll have a proper guardian there with you. Leave as much as you can to him, okay? Ideally, we want you to do nothing but listen.”

I nodded.