Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.5 - Chapter 14

The Archduke Conference’s Dedication Ritual

Hirschur made a rare appearance at the Ehrenfest Dormitory and gave me a board, on which was a list of all the ingredients necessary to make mobile magic tools like Schwartz and Weiss. “Lady Rozemyne, I will be participating in the Dedication Ritual,” she said, sounding extra pleased with herself. “Do give the aub my thanks.” Her announcement had nothing to do with the board, so I wasn’t sure whether to thank her or play along.

“Thank you ever so much for delivering this,” I eventually replied. “I am also glad to hear that you have been allowed to join the ritual.”

The first Dedication Ritual we hosted at the Royal Academy was for research purposes, so only archduke candidates and student archscholars had been allowed to participate. This had deeply troubled the research-crazy professors, who were very much interested in religious ceremonies that allowed one to gain more divine protections.

At first, the news that another Dedication Ritual was going to take place had come as another disappointment to the professors; only the aubs and their retainers had received invitations. Hirschur had grumbled about being left out again; then she had gotten Sylvester to send an ordonnanz to the royal family requesting that they include the professors as well.

I didn’t think the royal family would mind. The more participants, the better, after all.

“I am aware that participants were asked to bring their own rejuvenation potions this time,” Hirschur remarked. “Gundolf was rather frustrated. The students had said that Ehrenfest’s potions were particularly effective, so he wanted to try one for himself.”

I giggled. Just as I predicted, Drewanchel was thinking about our rejuvenation potions first and foremost.

All of a sudden, I noticed a twinkle in Hirschur’s eye. “The royal family wants to make this ceremony a yearly event, but the promise of divine protections and nothing more will surely lead to mounting dissatisfaction.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Although having a chance to perform the ritual once every ten years is fine in itself, one will need to obtain several divine protections before they feel an impact on their mana usage. One must continually offer mana during the ceremony to earn the right to repeat the ritual, but those who receive their chance during the first or second year will receive barely any divine protections.”

Hirschur was correct; how many divine protections one obtained was dependent on how much mana one offered and whether one’s regular behavior drew the attention of the gods. It wasn’t enough to perform the odd ritual and then proceed with one’s everyday life. If one considered the number of protections received by my retainers, who were visiting the temple every day as part of a silly competition to see who could transform their schtappe into a divine instrument first, and the number of protections received by Wilfried, who had performed Spring Prayer and offered mana to the foundation since I first entered a jureve five years ago, it became clear that quantity and consistency were tremendously important.

She continued, “It will most likely be the losing duchies who are made to repeat their rituals first. Their mana is sparse to begin with, and they are unlikely to obtain many divine protections after their first ritual. Then, they will need to wait an entire decade before they can repeat it again, locked into participating over and over for fear of getting left behind. All those years of struggling will doubtless inspire frustration—and so, Lady Rozemyne! Do you not think you should distribute rejuvenation potions to ease their burden and turn their painful struggle into a more tolerable one?”

I considered Hirschur’s point. It did seem like a good idea to provide an immediate reward to ease the nobles’ inevitable dissatisfaction.

“If you believe this is important, Professor Hirschur, then I would advise you to say as much to the royal family and suggest that the Sovereign professors work together to make those rejuvenation potions,” I said, turning her down with a polite smile. “At least one of you must have a recipe for a highly effective brew. This is not a problem that Ehrenfest must strive to solve.”

Hirschur shrugged, unamused. “You are correct that making rejuvenation potions for the defeated duchies would not be beneficial in the slightest. I would never waste time that I could spend researching on such a fruitless endeavor.”

“I agree from the bottom of my heart. Just as you would not want to surrender your chances to be immersed in your precious research, why would I want to fritter away time that I could spend reading? Furthermore, the royal family are the ones holding this ritual. I would not like to intervene.”

Hirschur let out a laugh. “So you claim, but it is clear as day that you are devising a solution to their discontent. It would not be the first time you have done something of no apparent value to you. On that note... a rather large change is being made to the Royal Academy’s curriculum. You inspired that as well, I imagine? You would do well to understand that your words move the royal family. At this rate, they will want to take you for themselves.”

Her warning had come too late, but it was a good indication that news of my adoption had yet to circulate.

“How are the lesson plans changing?” I asked.

“The royal family declared that it would make more sense to obtain one’s schtappe after learning mana compression and obtaining divine protections. They wanted a return to the old ways, when students would need to wait until the year of their graduation, but were forced to compromise when an overwhelming number of duchies proclaimed that they would rather the younger generation learn to use their schtappes at the Royal Academy than at home. Thus, students will now obtain them during their third year.”

As it turned out, the students obtaining their schtappes sooner made lessons easier for the teachers, so they hadn’t protested the event being moved to the first year. Hirschur suspected my involvement because the topic had come up so abruptly and during the second half of the Archduke Conference.

Ngh! As much as it hurts, her deduction is spot-on!

Hirschur continued, “We were also instructed to revert our lesson plans for the first- and second-years to what they were before. Gundolf’s group is overseeing this, with plans to have the process completed in time for the next academic year.”

The professors had initially opposed this schedule, arguing that lesson plans couldn’t be changed at such short notice—but Fraularm had already set a precedent for using the old plans during our second year, so their hands had ultimately been tied.

Oh? I guess there are times when Professor Fraularm’s little schemes actually benefit the royal family.

“There was also an inquiry into whether the Dedication Ritual could be added to the standard curriculum,” Hirschur informed me. “At the moment, many duchies still struggle to visit the temple, but the royal family stated that a degree of competition must be introduced at once. They want the students to experience plenty of religious ceremonies and pray as much as possible during class so that they can obtain more divine protections.”

This suggestion had actually been rejected, since the professors knew next to nothing about religious ceremonies. In the end, it was decided that the new content would be incorporated into the curriculum gradually over a much longer period—and that Ehrenfest and Klassenberg would continue to perform joint research focused on the Dedication Ritual.

“Once the term begins, Ehrenfest will be asked to participate in this joint research, I imagine. It is also my understanding that Klassenberg is helping the royal family get ready for the upcoming ritual so that they may learn the process and make their own preparations in the future.”

Klassenberg and the royal family both act fast, though I can’t imagine Ehrenfest will ask for much. I received a report earlier today that we brought a trial set of our picture-book bibles to the Royal Academy and started promoting them.

And then it hit me—I had said in the past that Ehrenfest would not have any qualms about repeating the ritual as long as Klassenberg took care of the preparations.

Hirschur gave me a look of understanding. “Ah, I see. So this had already been discussed. It was mentioned that the burden on Klassenberg would plummet when the ritual does eventually become part of the curriculum and duchies start bringing their own rejuvenation potions. Oh, regarding the potions—you may be interested to know that Klassenberg was suspicious of the apparent ease with which Ehrenfest prepared so many.”

Preparing rejuvenation potions certainly is a handful.

Just making them was draining enough, but the biggest complication was gathering the materials. Ehrenfest’s gathering spot hadn’t used to be very abundant, and it seemed reasonable to assume that the other duchies were still dealing with the same problem.

They could just regenerate their own gathering spots, but you need to know the prayer for that, so...

As I pondered this, Lieseleta entered with a warm meal packaged neatly in a box—our way of thanking Hirschur for actually bringing the board to me and providing so much additional information. She tried to stand near the wall and wait for us to finish our conversation, but the overeager professor gestured her over without delay.

“Lieseleta, if you would,” she said, then immediately took the box with a smile. “If you’ll excuse me, then, I must return to my laboratory.”

“U-Um, Professor Hirschur...” I stammered. “There are still things I must ask you about—”

“Good day to you, Lady Rozemyne. May we meet again during the Archduke Conference’s Dedication Ritual.”

Having obtained her food, Hirschur turned on her heel and swiftly departed, not even bothering to conclude our discussion. I was left in a daze, which made Lieseleta slump her shoulders.

“My apologies, Lady Rozemyne... I did not think she would beat such a hasty retreat. I should have taken longer to prepare her food.”

“I cannot blame you for failing to realize her intentions. Professor Hirschur may teach here at the Royal Academy, but she never behaves as a noble normally should.” Not even I had expected her to leave so abruptly. She was too much of a free spirit.

“I thank you ever so much for your consolation, Lady Rozemyne, but I have known Professor Hirschur for years now. It was my failure as an attendant that I did not anticipate what she was going to do. That was such a crucial opportunity for you to gather information as well...”

I get how you feel, but Hirschur is outright unpredictable. Attendants aren’t mind readers, so what can you do?

I continued to translate in the underground archive, then spent lunch with Magdalena, discussing the royal family’s Dedication Ritual. In no time at all, it was the final day of the Archduke Conference. Despite the suddenness of the whole affair, everything was made ready without incident.

After breakfast, I cleansed myself, changed into my High Bishop robes, then went with my blue-robed retainers to a specified waiting room, where we would await the beginning of the ritual.

Geh. It’s Immanuel.

No sooner had we entered the room than we found ourselves face-to-face with the Sovereign High Priest. I recalled his attempt to cut us off after the Starbind Ceremony and was struck with a sudden urge to step away from him out of disgust, but Cornelius placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me in place. He then moved me just a bit to the side, behind Hartmut.

I gazed up at Cornelius, who gave me a small, reassuring smile in response. He then adopted a more neutral expression and stood next to Hartmut. They both stared down Immanuel, with whom I exchanged the usual greetings before we took the seats offered to us.

“Lady Rozemyne,” the Sovereign High Priest said, “I am beyond grateful that we will soon welcome you as our Sovereign High Bishop.”

Hartmut shook his head. “As we have mentioned, Lady Rozemyne is an Ehrenfest archduke candidate. There are no plans for her to join the Sovereign temple. She is here only to carry out a request from the royal family.” He then directed the man a chilly smile that practically screamed, “Get this through your thick skull already.”

“Soon after this ceremony concludes, I expect Ehrenfest to receive a royal decree,” Immanuel said, his lips curling. “One instructing Lady Rozemyne to be sent to the Sovereign temple to serve as its High Bishop, that is. As I understand it, there do exist methods to move an archduke candidate to the Sovereignty—and there will not be anything that Ehrenfest can do to stop it.”

Hartmut looked momentarily surprised, then smirked provocatively. “By law, the only way for an archduke candidate to be moved to the Sovereignty is through marriage—but someone who is married cannot become the High Bishop. Were you unaware of that fact, despite being a Sovereign priest? Even if she does move, she will never enter your temple. Ah... Perhaps those of the royal family intend to take her for themselves?”

Immanuel clearly had a limited understanding of noble culture; he had only learned that archduke candidates couldn’t normally be taken into the Sovereignty through a conversation with Ferdinand. He stared at us in wide-eyed shock and muttered, “The royal family intends to take her...?” He had genuinely believed that I would start serving as the Sovereign High Bishop once the royal family took action.

I mean, they do have ways to cancel my adoption in Ehrenfest, and they did speak to the Sovereign temple about me joining its ranks... Perhaps he genuinely thought he had a good chance of winning.

Midway through the Archduke Conference, however, it had come to light that I was a Zent candidate on the verge of acquiring the Grutrissheit. The royal family’s focus had then shifted to adopting me instead. They had probably forgotten all about the Sovereign temple.

Everything really did change over the span of this conference.

“Immanuel, you should go to the auditorium,” I said. “You will need to tell the nobles how to enter and arrange themselves, no?” I tried to wave him away—his staring contest with Hartmut was starting to get annoying—but he instead chose to stay and tell me his complaints about today’s ceremony.

“Lady Rozemyne, the Dedication Ceremony is meant to be performed while facing the shrine, not with everyone standing in a circle. Please ask the royal family to reposition the participating nobles.”

Indeed, it was standard practice when making an offering to the gods to face the shrine, as the dedicated mana would then flow into the divine instruments on the altar. Unfortunately for Immanuel, that was not our intention for today. We needed the mana for our own purposes, so the nobles involved were to kneel around chalices instead.

He continued, “Filling all of the divine instruments will be of enormous benefit to the Sovereign temple.”

“I have absolutely no intention of providing mana to the Sovereign temple,” I retorted. “Harvests all across the country have worsened specifically because you took each duchy’s best blue priests and shrine maidens—is that not true? Well, in this case, I think the Sovereign temple should return the favor.”

After the civil war, the return of the more plenteous apprentices to noble society had caused trouble enough, but the Sovereign temple’s poaching had really wounded the temples of the country’s lesser duchies. The state of the blue priests who were left in Ehrenfest said it all.

“In any case,” I went on, “if you truly want the mana from the duchies here today to be given to the Sovereign temple, consult the royal family. They are the ones hosting the ritual, not I.”

Again, I waved the Sovereign High Priest away and asked that he leave. Hartmut and Angelica basically forced him out of the waiting room this time.

Leonore peered down at me, worried. “Are you well, Lady Rozemyne? You seem exhausted already.”

“There has been so much on my mind recently that I must be losing sleep. I am not so tired that I cannot perform the ritual, but I do not have the strength to deal with Immanuel right now.” His lunatic, somewhat unfocused stare always put me on edge. Just being in his presence was gross and unsettling. It was as though simply facing him drained me of my life force.

I hadn’t even spoken to my retainers about the fact that I was being adopted into the royal family. Thinking about everything I would need to do upon my return to Ehrenfest was enough to make me sigh. I would need to inform Wilfried that our engagement was being canceled, confirm what my retainers intended to do, and train Melchior to take over at the temple—and tie up the lower city’s loose ends on top of that.

I also need to write Ferdinand another letter, this time using invisible ink. There’s so much he needs to know, like how I secured him a hidden room and protected not just Ehrenfest but the entire country. Oh, and our discoveries related to the dangerous silver cloth, and the weird thing Professor Hortensia said to Detlinde... Just a ton, really. I wonder if Sylvester will grant me permission...

“Lady Rozemyne, the participants have all arrived and received an explanation of today’s ceremony. As the Sovereign temple is going to perform it, I shall serve as the High Priest.”

I gazed up to see Immanuel; he had evidently come to fetch me while I was lost in thought. He extended a hand to me, but Hartmut swiftly smacked it away.

“It would be much too dangerous for you to act as High Priest,” he said with a smile. “A blue priest who is not himself a noble could never endure so many aubs making an offering. At best, the flow would completely drain you of your mana. At worst, it would kill you. Even standing on the outskirts would put your life in danger.”

Hartmut carefully wiped the part of his hand that had touched Immanuel and added in a low voice that, while he did not care what fate befell the Sovereign High Priest, he did not want anything to happen that might trouble me. Then, he offered me his hand instead. My eyes flitted between the two men before I eventually accepted it.

“Indeed, we would not want you to pass away during the ritual,” I said to Immanuel, then turned my attention to my retainers. “Damuel, I would ask you to participate by the edge of the circle. Please signal us if the burden becomes too great.”

“Understood.”

“Everyone else, do not participate. Focus on your guard duty.”

“Yes, my lady!”

So, with my retainers surrounding me, I made my way to the auditorium. Angelica was behind me, and I could sense that she was paying excruciatingly close attention to Immanuel’s every move.

“The High Bishop shall now enter!” came the expected call, and a bell started to ring.

I made my appearance, and the gathered nobles all turned to look at me. They were kneeling atop a red cloth and, true to the Sovereign High Priest’s complaints, positioned around chalices rather than facing the shrine.

They look a bit like a pie chart...

Every noble was wearing a cape in their duchy’s color, and their doughnut formation only made the comparison more striking. As far as the ratios went, the greater duchies had more representation, whereas the lesser duchies had... considerably less. The weaker one’s mana, the closer one was to the outermost rings, so it made sense that the archducal couples were all so close to the center.

As I walked through the nobles, I heard Damuel stop Immanuel with a candid, “This is as far as you go.” It was best to leave the situation to him.

I glanced over at Ehrenfest’s ocher capes and spotted Sylvester kneeling at the very front. Florencia was absent rather than beside him—as expected, considering her pregnancy—but Karstedt and several others of the Knight’s Order were keeping watch from outside the circle.

Oh, there are Sovereign nobles participating as well.

A group wearing black capes was in position between the reds and blues. They were scholars and attendants, I assumed. The royals weren’t going to participate, so they were standing a short distance away from the red cloth and the nobles kneeling atop it.

Surrounding the royal family was the Sovereign Knight’s Order, as imposing as ever. They were glaring straight at us.

I soon arrived at the center of the circle, where there were two large chalices and many smaller ones. They hadn’t been particularly hard to gather, I was told; while the Sovereignty didn’t have giebes, royals other than the Zent supplied mana to their villas and the surrounding land as giebes would. I checked the chalices to make sure they contained empty feystones, then nodded. They would do well enough.

“Aub Ehrenfest. Rozemyne,” the Zent proclaimed. “As the representative of all those gathered here today, I thank you for agreeing to cooperate on such short notice.”

I crossed my arms and knelt in response, then placed my hands on the red cloth beneath me. Hartmut got on his knees beside me, but my blue-robed guard knights remained standing.

“I am one who offers prayer and gratitude to the gods who have created the world,” I said, then waited patiently as everyone repeated after me.

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

Their voices were mismatched at the start but gradually aligned, much like during our previous Dedication Ritual at the Royal Academy. And as per usual, waves of light began coursing down the red cloth and into the chalices.

Wait, what? Only the Royal Academy’s divine instrument is shining.

My understanding had been that ceremonies performed with one’s schtappe formed pillars of light, while those performed with temple instruments did not—but I was evidently mistaken. Just one of the chalices began to shine crimson, as though declaring itself the only real instrument among a group of phonies. The light shimmered as though it were a flame, then rose up into the air like sparks. It was yet another strange event, completely different from a pillar of light.

This is kind of similar to what I saw on the Night of Flutrane.

As I stared at the spectacle, mesmerized, I heard Damuel say that we had done enough. I took my hands off the floor and gracefully stood up.

“Everyone, please remove your hands from the cloth,” I said. “I expect that some of you are reaching the limits of your mana, so let us end the ceremony here.”

Damuel was a laynoble with the mana of a mednoble, but his limit was bound to be considerably lower than that of a noble equipped to attend the Archduke Conference; even a moderately effective rejuvenation potion would restore him. The aubs already had experience supplying their foundations, so they were entirely unperturbed, and while those who had never participated in a religious ceremony before seemed tired, nobody looked to be on the verge of collapsing. It was more than we could say for the previous Dedication Ritual.

Mm-hmm. At this rate, they shouldn’t have any trouble doing this each year and gaining more experience with ceremonies. Nobody will give too much and shoot themselves in the foot. Isn’t it perfect?

But as soon as a victorious smile graced my lips, the blue priests and shrine maidens who had apparently been participating by the edge collapsed, unconscious. I could only cover my mouth and utter an “Oops.”

I... forgot they were here. And, wait—if they do this ritual all the time, shouldn’t they know their limits?!

This was a tremendous shock, but I maintained a neutral expression while looking over the nobles and directing those who needed a rejuvenation potion to drink one. The room grew noisier as people began to replenish themselves, but I could still easily speak over them.

“In truth, this was a winter ceremony meant to fill chalices for the giebes to then use to wet the earth. If you continue to pray and offer mana in your temples, then your harvests will increase aplenty. The process will even allow you to obtain additional divine protections from the gods.”

I punctuated my last remark by noting how many divine protections Wilfried received.

After listening closely to my explanation, the Zent offered a grave nod. “Henceforth, we shall perform a Dedication Ritual each winter so that our students might gain more experience with religious ceremonies. Our children will need to pray from a younger age if they wish to obtain these critical protections. It was proposed that Klassenberg and Ehrenfest would continue to host these ceremonies to progress their joint research, and both duchies have expressed that they are willing.”

Uh, did we formally agree to that?

The matter had come up in the underground archive, but did Sylvester even know about this? Or did it count as academy business and not require his permission? In either case, now that the Zent had announced it—and to such an important crowd—it would be more or less impossible for us to back out. The nobles urged to participate in today’s ritual were just as trapped; they all glanced at their rejuvenation potion pouches with looks that seemed to say, “You intend to continue stealing our mana?” I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.

“As the Zent has said, it is necessary to perform religious ceremonies not only to obtain divine protections but also to support Yurgenschmidt as a whole,” I pronounced. “That said, as one must inevitably follow the ritual with a rejuvenation potion, we understand the burden this will place on the students.”

Several of the nobles shot their heads up to look at me—mostly those from the losing duchies. “Will Ehrenfest distribute rejuvenation potions as it did for the previous Dedication Ritual?” one of them asked.

“I am afraid not. As I am sure you can imagine, not even a greater duchy like Klassenberg could readily make rejuvenation potions for the entire Royal Academy. Ehrenfest would stand no chance at all.” The hope quickly faded from their eyes, but I couldn’t risk putting such a heavy burden on Ehrenfest when there was a good chance that I wouldn’t even be there next year. “Instead, to make it easier for everyone to brew their own potions, I would like to teach you all a prayer that will rejuvenate your gathering spots.”

“Hm? Our gathering spots...?”

The nobles looked confused, so I nodded. I would teach them the prayer and nothing more; if they wanted better ingredients, they would need to rejuvenate their gathering spots themselves. That was why we had only squeezed a conservative amount of mana from them this time.

“There are mysterious magic circles engraved in the gathering spots granted to your dormitories,” I said. “If your nobles all press their hands against them and offer their mana as you have done here, then your gathering spots will be replenished with an abundance of materials. This will make it easier for you to brew rejuvenation potions, and it will serve as another ritual you can perform.”

As the buzz in the room got louder, I faced the nobles and taught them the prayer to Flutrane that was used during Spring Prayer. Some struggled to hear me over the noise, so I repeated it again and again while stealthily channeling my mana into the not-entirely-filled chalices.

“Now the chalice is shining green?!” someone cried.

“Hm...? Oh, my apologies,” I said. “I was repeating the prayer, so I must have accidentally begun an entirely different ceremony.” I frantically removed my hands from the now full chalices and put on a smile. That had almost been a gigantic blunder, but adding that extra bit of mana had surely secured me the full year that I’d bargained for.

And so, the Archduke Conference’s Dedication Ritual ended without incident.

Before we left, I asked Ehrenfest’s adults to rejuvenate our gathering spot. Thanks to their large numbers, this proceeded without issue, which came as quite a relief; I was glad to know that they would manage once I was gone.