Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 5.5 - Chapter 8

Circling the Shrines

Although we now knew the locations of the shrines, I was too busy with the underground archive to actually visit them. There had to be a work-around of some kind. In an ideal world, I would repeat what we had done for the first shrine and go there with Hildebrand or Hannelore, but that wasn’t viable when we were under strict orders not to wander around outside.

I guess I wouldn’t mind sharing the locations with Lady Eglantine if she wanted to visit them herself...

Unable to think of any satisfying ideas, I made my way to the underground archive, where Eglantine and Anastasius were once again going to be spending the morning. It was a day like any other, but when I went to enter the archive with my writing utensils in hand—

“Lady Rozemyne, do wait a moment.”

I turned around and said, “Yes, Lady Eglantine?” She was wearing a smile like a blooming flower, while Anastasius looked quite bitter beside her.

“There is a change of plans for today—I must ask you to visit the shrines with us. I wish to see your large-scale cleaning magic for myself. Among some other things, perhaps...”

Anastasius then elaborated, “You are the only one who can clean them so quickly.” That confirmed it: this was the will of the royal family.

So that’s how they’re going to play this, hm?

This was the consequence of my being so vague with Eglantine. They were going to force me to enter the shrines while watching me the entire time.

I really didn’t want to believe they would resort to being so forceful, but... here we are.

There was a sudden heaviness in the pit of my stomach, as though I’d just swallowed a rock, but my options were painfully limited. After hanging my head in defeat, I reluctantly followed Eglantine and Anastasius out of the library with my retainers in tow. I was in my highbeast, of course; Anastasius was taking us to the shrine on the other side of the scholar building, and there was no way I was going to keep up with the adults on foot.

“Rozemyne. Here,” Anastasius said, then offered me a sound-blocker. I took it and gazed up at him, only to see him looking back at me in displeasure. “It would seem you kept secrets from Eglantine in that meeting of yours, even after she went out of her way to exclude me. She was despondent last night, you know.”

“If anyone should feel despondent, it is I. It was outright malicious of Lady Eglantine to ask me questions that my status prevents me from answering.”

Saying that I couldn’t enter the shrine would have gotten me accused of lying to the royal family. Admitting that I could and that I’d acquired a slate wouldn’t have done me any better; I would have been deemed an even greater traitor than Detlinde, whose transgressions thus far extended no further than some treasonous remarks.

Can I really be blamed for keeping my silence?

No matter how much I wanted to hide the truth, I couldn’t refuse a royal order; I would need to touch the shrine if they told me to. It depressed me that these two, of all people, were being so forceful. I’d never thought that my noble-like response to Eglantine would end with me being made to reveal my secrets.

“My apologies,” Eglantine said. “I do this only because I am left with no other options.”

No matter how cutely she apologized, the tightness in my chest remained. I assumed she was looking for a secret technique of some kind that would allow Sigiswald to enter the shrines, thereby circumventing another war, but I didn’t have the answers she sought. At most, I could only suggest that we continue reading the archive’s tablets. I certainly couldn’t admit that I wanted to obtain the Book of Mestionora, read it, then use it as a bargaining chip to ensure that Ferdinand wouldn’t get punished.

“You must have entered that shrine,” Anastasius reasoned. “You’ve prayed so often, obtained so many divine protections, controlled divine instruments at will, and performed countless ceremonies. Why even try to hide it?”

“As I recall, it was you who told me to learn how much information is worth and not disclose it freely. Should you not praise me for having taken your lesson to heart?”

“Rozemyne,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

“Are you going to order me to tell you everything?”

“Yes. Anything that you attempt to hide will surely evolve into something monstrous behind the scenes. It is because we have been honest with each other that things have gone well so far, is it not? I see no reason for us to change that now. There is no world in which someone as religious as you would not be allowed into the shrines.” Instead of commending me for acting like a true noble, he was ordering me not to hide anything from him.

“Perhaps I am at fault here, since it was my own behavior that has led you to scold me, but let it be known that I cannot provide the convenient solution that Lady Eglantine seeks.”

I was telling the truth, but Anastasius merely raised an eyebrow at me and said, “I wonder about that...” I could tell from his expression that he doubted me, but the only thing I was keeping to myself was a comment much too rude to say.

Sigiswald couldn’t enter the shrine because he hadn’t been omni-elemental when he obtained his schtappe. He hadn’t been omni-elemental because the royal family hadn’t read the documents in the underground archive, which detailed the importance of elements. They hadn’t read those documents not only because of the colossal death toll of the civil war and purge, and the abundance of knowledge that had been lost as a result, but also because none of the royals could read or had studied ancient language.

To be frank, none of this was my fault. It wasn’t because of me that people could only obtain their schtappe once, nor was I in a position to change things. Was it really so bad of me to think that Eglantine or Hildebrand should visit the shrines, since they were the only members of the royal family who could plausibly obtain the Grutrissheit? Nobles would consider that a lot more acceptable than they would it going to someone from Ehrenfest. I could only think of one way for Sigiswald to be the next king without being able to obtain the Grutrissheit himself.

“Can anyone blame me for wanting to keep quiet when it is obvious how the royal family would respond to my being able to enter the shrines?” I asked. “I would rather die than leave my family in Ehrenfest to become the third wife of a man whose second marriage I just recently blessed.”

“So you’ve learned to use your head...” Anastasius muttered.

“Does this mean you will speak openly instead of waving off my questions?” Eglantine giggled, wearing her usual soft smile. She had completely ignored the “I would rather die” part of my response. “I understand how you feel, Lady Rozemyne, but we must avoid war in the Sovereignty at all costs; peace has only recently begun to return. Obtaining the Grutrissheit is of the utmost importance. You will assist us, correct?”

I averted my eyes. Their position made enough sense that I couldn’t just refuse—but, at the same time, I really didn’t want to agree. They continued to pressure me with silent smiles as we passed the professors’ herb garden by the scholar building and soon arrived at the shrine.

“So there truly are more shrines...” the royal retainers said, unable to hide their surprise. My own retainers were too concerned about my situation to react; their eyes darted from Eglantine to Anastasius to me.

I returned the sound-blocking magic tool to Anastasius, then smiled at my retainers. “We were simply discussing how to clean the shrines.” I climbed out of my Pandabus, then used a large-scale waschen. The filth vanished in a heartbeat, leaving the area positively sparkling.

“How wonderful,” Eglantine said with a smile, clearly impressed.

“Rozemyne,” Anastasius added, “check to see whether the door is locked.”

I did as he instructed, my heart heavy. No sooner had my fingers brushed the door than I was sucked through.

“Is this... the God of Darkness’s shrine?”

Just like in Leidenschaft’s, there were thirteen statues lined up before me. The centermost one depicted the God of Darkness himself, wearing a large cape that sparkled as wonderfully as the night sky. In its hand was a feystone slate, as expected, but this one was black rather than blue. It was complete, unlike the one Eglantine had described, so I could already see the text on it.

“Guess I should still offer a prayer. Just to be safe.”

Hesitant to reach for the slate without praying at all, I raised both of my hands and my left leg. “O God of Darkness, O Sterrat the God of Stars, O Verbergen the God of Concealment, O Verdraeos the God of Deliverance... Distance me from this troublesome royal family who think only of themselves and make such cruel demands of me. Praise be to the gods!”

I was praying out of anger. Among the God of Darkness’s subordinates was the God of Deliverance, who would ideally take care of the royal family for me.

“Oh, the text on this slate differs from what I saw in the God of Fire’s shrine. Let’s see here... ‘Speak the name I granted thee’?”

Er, whose name? The God of Darkness’s?

All of a sudden, the name that had been emblazoned in my mind during my third-year practical lessons resurfaced. “Praise be to Schicksantracht, the God of Darkness,” I said, which caused the black slate to suck out some of my mana, and the text on its surface to change.

“Your prayers have reached me, and your worth has been acknowledged. I shall now grant you a word necessary to obtain the Book of Mestionora. This word alone, however, will not suffice; a Zent candidate must obtain the words of the other gods as well.”

I finished reading the text, then the black slate went into me and fused with my internal schtappe. Once it was gone, Schicksantracht’s word came to my mind.

“Willedeal.”

An instant later, I was outside the shrine again. My eyes met those of Anastasius and Eglantine, who were staring at me intently—determined not to miss the moment when I was sucked through the door, no doubt. I could tell that trying to lie to them and say that it hadn’t worked simply wouldn’t fly.

“Well, now there are black lines...” I said.

“Excuse me?”

Above the shrine there were now black lines as well as blue. Eglantine and Anastasius followed my eyes, then exchanged glances of confusion.

I gave them both a vague smile. “Shall we visit the other shrines?”

Eglantine blinked at me in disbelief, then looked worried. “Will your body hold...?”

“Indeed. I am fine at the moment. Though I would surely collapse without my highbeast.”

Part of me wanted to collapse on the spot and ruin their plans out of spite, but Lessy meant that I wasn’t using much stamina at all. I wasn’t using much mana either, unfortunately.

“That side path would get us to the next shrine sooner,” I called out as Anastasius and Eglantine went to return to the scholar building. They turned to me, at which point I gestured toward a thin track leading through the forest. It seemed to shine for me but most likely didn’t for anyone else here; it was presumably the route that Zent candidates of the past had used to circle the shrines.

Anastasius squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. “Climb into your highbeast, Rozemyne. We will go to the next one.” Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he started down the forest path. He must have gathered the location of the next shrine, in part thanks to my saying that they were at equidistant intervals around the Royal Academy.

As we made our way through the forest, Anastasius handed me the magic tool again. He confirmed that I was holding it and then said, “My brother will take you as his third wife. That will solve everything.”

“No, it won’t. As eager as I am to read a book belonging to a goddess, I don’t want to marry Prince Sigiswald.” Yes, his suggestion would “solve everything” for the royal family... but what about my own wants?

“Eglantine does not want to be the reason for another war, and she fears becoming the next Zent. If she obtains the Grutrissheit, the top-ranking duchies will all move at once, beginning with Klassenberg.”

Now he was really ticking me off—he was thinking about granting Eglantine’s wish and nothing else. “Indeed, neither the royal family nor the Sovereignty would suffer if you thrust this war upon me and made Ehrenfest accountable to the top-ranking duchies, but do you really think we would roll over and accept that? I already have a fiancé in Ehrenfest, and my intention is to remain there.”

“Yes,” Anastasius remarked, “you said as much during that exchange with Dunkelfelger.” I could tell from his tone that he still wasn’t going to budge.

I pursed my lips at the two royals. “So, in short... neither of you care about Ehrenfest in the slightest.”

Eglantine looked at me. “We do not wish your duchy ill, but its suffering is a small price to pay to avoid war in the Sovereignty. You must understand that, surely.” As it turned out, she felt as personally disconnected from Ehrenfest as I did from the Sovereignty.

“Above all else,” Anastasius continued, “I must prioritize Yurgenschmidt, the Sovereignty, and the royal family. That I would show such deep concern for Eglantine should go without saying. If my suggestion today is necessary to soothe her heart and ease her concerns, then what else can I do? Ehrenfest may suffer, but only Ehrenfest will care.”

It was truly embittering to hear that the royal family cared so little about my feelings, especially after I’d agreed to do so much for them. Anastasius had outright admitted that he would disregard me entirely for the sake of those he cared about more.

“If you really mean to say that Ehrenfest should deal with its own problems, then does the same logic not apply to the Sovereignty?” I asked. “In the event that Lady Eglantine obtained the Grutrissheit, Klassenberg would support her, and the Sovereign temple would no longer be able to protest. Imagine how much more devastating it would be for the book to end up in the hands of someone not in the royal family. Please refrain from poaching Ehrenfest’s archduke candidates one after another.”

“Be careful, Rozemyne,” Anastasius warned me with a glare. “You speak above your station.”

I glared at him in turn. “You told me not to hold anything back, Prince Anastasius. If you are going to order me by royal decree to marry Prince Sigiswald, then at least return Ferdinand to Ehrenfest. Losing him has left us all in a dire state.”

“That is not an option. Ahrensbach would collapse.”

I squeezed the sound-blocker, furious about the disparity of our treatment. “You certainly are quick to side with Ahrensbach. Should it not be made to deal with its own problems? That was your stance with Ehrenfest, after all. Tell me, what happened to your promise to treat Ehrenfest like the other duchies that won the civil war? You agreed to start during this very Archduke Conference. Does the royal family think so little of my duchy’s and my contributions?”

If they said yes and that this was simply how the royal family did things, then there wouldn’t be anything else I could do. Still, I was so frustrated that I wanted to gnash my teeth and gnaw on my lip.

Eglantine smiled at me. It was a condescending smile, as though she were watching a child throw a tantrum. “Your contributions are not insignificant in the least, Lady Rozemyne—but the fact of the matter is that Ahrensbach is more important and in a far more precarious situation than Ehrenfest.”

Ahrensbach was a greater duchy from the winning side of the civil war, and it was currently responsible for half of Old Werkestock. It was vastly more important than Ehrenfest, boasting more land, a larger population, and Yurgenschmidt’s only open country gate, and it was much worse off as well. At present, there were only two adults among its archducal family—three if you counted Ferdinand. That really wasn’t enough to support a greater duchy.

I get that Ahrensbach is suffering from a lack of archduke candidates, but isn’t that a result of their weird tradition of reducing all other candidates to archnobles every time there’s a change of archduke? It seems unfair that Ferdinand—and Ehrenfest—should suffer because of another duchy’s customs.

“So you mean to tell me that my contributions to the royal family never mattered,” I said. “My desires were always going to be overruled.”

“That isn’t true,” Anastasius replied. “There are some things we can do and some things we cannot. Your request for us to return Ferdinand may seem feasible, but he is the sole pillar keeping Ahrensbach standing. We cannot risk taking him away without a Zent wielding the Grutrissheit.”

“I’m not sure I understand...”

“We cannot return Ferdinand to Ehrenfest until we are able to divide Ahrensbach’s land, create lesser duchies, and assign them aubs from among the other duchies’ archducal families.”

Eglantine nodded. “Because there is no Grutrissheit to redraw the country’s borders, it has fallen to the Sovereignty and the greater duchies to manage the territories that lost the civil war. In this case, if Ahrensbach were to collapse now, there would be no one to take its place or support its land. How do you think Ehrenfest would fare if, as its neighbor, it was burdened with such duties?”

Ehrenfest was already struggling with its own land after purging so many nobles; we didn’t have the leeway to look after other duchies as well.

“Ahrensbach’s crippling mana shortage was the only reason that Lady Detlinde’s behavior has been overlooked,” Eglantine continued. “Lady Magdalena was rather furious after her visit the other day.”

Detlinde had apparently been rude enough to warrant her immediate execution. The mana shortage had made it necessary to spare her, but only for as long as she was needed. Her fate was sealed, and that realization shocked me like a plunge into ice-cold water.

“In that case, at the very least, promise me that Ferdinand won’t be punished alongside her,” I said. “He is only in Ahrensbach to begin with, engaged to a woman he doesn’t love and stuck drinking one potion after another, because the king made him choose between that and murdering his own brother. Prince Anastasius, how would you feel if you were put in the same situation, forced to decide between killing Prince Sigiswald or marrying Lady Detlinde? In the case of the latter, how would you feel if you were then executed for her rudeness?”

Anastasius grimaced at the very thought; then, his gray eyes came to rest on me. “We will not be able to avoid punishing Ferdinand once he is married,” he said provokingly. “If you wish to save him from this fate, obtain the Grutrissheit now, while their Starbinding is delayed.”

I shuddered. It was clear from the look on his face that he wouldn’t hesitate to exploit me for his own ends, but I refused to let that stop me. “Then would you return Ferdinand to Ehrenfest?”

“If you can foresee the problems that removing him from Ahrensbach would cause and can think of ways to solve them, then yes, as you will.”

I won’t let Ferdinand be executed alongside Lady Detlinde.

This was my chance to save him. It would require me to visit the shrines, obtain the Grutrissheit, and become Sigiswald’s third wife... but those were sacrifices I was willing to make.

No matter what they demand of me, I’ll use the Grutrissheit as my shield and save him.

“We’re here,” Anastasius said, bringing an end to our conversation before urging me forward. We were standing before a white shrine. I cleaned it, like with the others, and then touched the door. At once, I was transported inside.

“This one is for the Goddess of Wind...” I muttered to myself. “That slate is her divine color.”

I could see a statue of a goddess holding a round shield in her left hand and a yellow slate in her right, standing among statues depicting her subordinates.

“O Schutzaria the Goddess of Wind, O Ordoschnelli the Goddess of Couriers, O Dregarnuhr the Goddess of Time, O Mestionora the Goddess of Wisdom... Grant me the Book of Mestionora so that I might save Ferdinand. Praise be to the gods!”

Then, I took the already completed slate.

“Your prayers have reached me, and your worth has been acknowledged. I, Schutzaria, shall now grant you a word necessary to obtain the Book of Mestionora.”

As expected, it showed the same boilerplate text as the others, with the only difference being the goddess’s word. The slate fused with the schtappe inside of me, then I repeated what was etched into my mind.

“Teidihinder.”

And with that, I was outside again. I checked the door to make sure that it was locked, then returned to Eglantine and Anastasius. Alongside the black and blue lines in the sky was now a strip of yellow, and I could just about see a complex pattern forming.

“On to the next one,” Anastasius instructed. “From this point onward, everyone ride your highbeasts.”

It seemed that doing the entire journey on foot was getting to be a bit much for the others. We all rode down the next path—and our new mode of transport meant we reached the next shrine in no time at all. Again, I cleaned it and then went inside.

“Let’s see... This one must be for the God of Life.”

There was Ewigeliebe with his sword and subordinates, but this place was noticeably different from the others; the thirteen statues were positioned around a small shrine. Indeed, it was a shrine within a shrine!

Wait, is that the Earth shrine? I wondered. It seemed unlikely that Ewigeliebe and his subordinates would guard anything else so intently. But why even bother recreating the bible this closely...?

I wanted to sigh, but something compelled me to pray instead. I raised my arms and gazed upon Ewigeliebe the God of Life.

Oh! The slate isn’t yet whole!

It was only half complete, which made sense, now that I thought about it; I seldom prayed to the God of Life. The only time I could remember doing so at the Royal Academy was when we were preparing for our bride-taking ditter match against Dunkelfelger. A white pillar had arisen when I was teaching Wilfried how to use the divine instrument.

“O Ewigeliebe the God of Life, O Schneeahst the God of Ice, O Schlaftraum the God of Dreams, O Cuococalura the God of Cooking...”

I wonder if praying to Cuococalura will net me various new recipes...

With that in mind, I continued to pray. It wasn’t long before I started to feel a bunch of mana get sucked out of me, exactly as Eglantine had described. The slate reached completion just as it became more difficult for me to maintain my stance.

A voice echoed in my head, “Your prayers have reached me, and your worth has been acknowledged. I grant you permission to pray to my wife, Geduldh.”

Wait, huh? What about the word for obtaining the Book of Mestionora?!

I was at a loss; this hadn’t happened in the other shrines. Then, the door to the inner shrine began to open, revealing a statue of Geduldh the Goddess of Earth. The slate in her hand was complete, probably because of the Dedication Ritual we had performed here at the Royal Academy.

But, wait... how do I get it?

Statues of Ewigeliebe and his subordinates were still surrounding the Earth shrine, keeping me from going inside. I was pretty sure that even trying to approach would inspire the God of Life to cut me down with his sword—a terrifying thought, to be sure. I took and drank one of the rejuvenation potions at my hip as I considered what to do.

Can I at least get closer now that Ewigeliebe has accepted me?

And then it hit me—he had permitted me to pray and nothing more. At no point had he invited me to come closer. I gazed up at Ewigeliebe’s statue in front of the shrine, and entreated the Goddess of Earth to help me.

“Please teach me how to obtain the slate! Praise be to Geduldh the Goddess of Earth!”

Mana flew out of my ring. Then, the red slate in Geduldh’s hand shimmered, disappeared, and reappeared beside the white slate that Ewigeliebe was holding.

“Your prayers have reached Geduldh, and your worth has been acknowledged. She and I shall now grant you words necessary to obtain the Book of Mestionora.”

So Ewigeliebe does the talking and the slate-giving... He really is protective.

It was a pretty bothersome gimmick, but I was impressed that the first Zent had gone to the trouble of encapsulating so much of what was written in the bible. As I mulled over how meticulous he must have been, the door to Geduldh’s shrine closed again.

I took the white slate from the God of Life’s hands. After such an unusual experience, I thought that it might say something unique, but the text was the same as always; only the given word ever changed. The slate fused with the schtappe inside of me, and the new word spilled from my lips.

“Neigunsch.”

Next, I took and examined the red slate.

“This word alone, however, will not suffice; a Zent candidate must obtain the words of the other gods as well.”

The red slate also fused with my inner schtappe.

“Tolerakeit.”

Again, I was outside. It felt as though I’d spent much longer than usual in the shrine, since I’d needed to obtain two slates this time, but not a moment had actually passed. I gazed up at the sky—someone thanked me for washing the shrine in the meantime—and saw even more colors than before. What would happen after I obtained all of the slates? We were forging ahead into unknown territory, and it was honestly kind of terrifying.

“On to the next,” Anastasius said.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the fear building up inside of me. It was obvious by now that the royal family would never help me out of mere compassion; I needed something to bargain with them.

I’m not scared. I’m going to save Ferdinand.

As we continued along the side path, I couldn’t help but notice that the way ahead was getting steadily brighter.

“Just how many of these shrines are there?” Ottilie murmured, her voice tinged with concern.

“Six,” Damuel replied without missing a beat. His swiftness earned him a strange look from Ottilie, but he had confirmed their locations before our departure.

“There it is,” Anastasius said as the next shrine came into view. “Rozemyne, the usual.”

I washed the shrine, then went inside while pretending to check whether it was locked.

“This one’s for the Goddess of Light.”

There were twelve statues surrounding one that appeared to be wearing the crown of Light. In the center statue’s hand was a golden tablet that shone faintly and reminded me of the flames produced by contract magic.

“O Goddess of Light, O Gebordnung the Goddess of Order, O Unheilschneide the Goddess of Purification, O Liebeskhilfe the Goddess of Binding... I shall do whatever it takes to save Ferdinand, so please offer me your guidance. Praise be to the gods!”

I cast my eyes upon the feystone slate, and...

“Yeah, that figures. Like the God of Darkness, she wants me to speak the name she gave me.”

It arose in my mind without delay. I’d received the names of both supreme gods during one of my third-year practical lessons.

“Praise be to Versprechredi, the Goddess of Light.”

The golden tablet in my hand sucked out some of my mana, and the text on its surface immediately changed.

“Your prayers have reached me, and your worth has been acknowledged. I shall now grant you a word necessary to obtain the Book of Mestionora. This word alone, however, will not suffice; a Zent candidate must obtain the words of the other gods as well.”

Then, as expected, the golden tablet fused with my internal schtappe. I spoke the word given to me by the Goddess of Light.

“Austrag.”

Outside the shrine, I saw that Anastasius was touching the door as well, his brow furrowed in frustration and regret. He must have realized that I was looking at him, because he then adopted a more neutral expression.

“Done?” he asked me. I nodded in response, then he turned to his retainers with a dramatic flourish of his cape and said, “To the next one, then.”

The next and the last.

There had been six large shrines on the map. We made our way to the final one, then I cleaned it and touched the door. Inside were another thirteen statues, the centermost of which was holding a staff in its right hand and a glittering green tablet in its left. That was enough for me to identify it as Flutrane, a goddess powerful enough to wash away Ewigeliebe at the start of spring using the water from the melted snow, but also kind enough to heal the wounded Geduldh.

“O Flutrane the Goddess of Water, O Verdrenna the Goddess of Thunder, O Heilschmerz the Goddess of Healing, O Verfuhremeer the Goddess of Oceans... Please wash away the mountain of disasters weighing down on Ferdinand. Praise be to the gods!”

Even though I’d been riding in my Pandabus, I must have been tired from visiting all of the shrines with the royal family; I gave a somewhat sloppy prayer and then took the green tablet. To my surprise, the text on it was different than usual—perhaps because this was the final shrine.

“Your prayers have reached me, and your worth has been acknowledged. I shall now grant you the last word necessary to obtain the Book of Mestionora. O great Zent candidate, who has obtained the words of the other gods as well, reach out and seize that which you seek.”

The next part of the process was very familiar: the green slate fused with my schtappe, then I spoke the new word that I’d received.

“Rombekur.”

Having now visited all of the shrines, I was given the much anticipated instruction to reach out and grab the Book of Mestionora. If what the Goddess of Water had said was true, then the Grutrissheit was right at hand.

Believe me, I want it, but... where exactly am I supposed to be reaching?!

Most suspicious of all were the lines of various colors that had been appearing in the sky as I went from shrine to shrine. I reached up as if to grab them.

C’mere, Book of Mestionora...

“What in the world are you doing?” Anastasius asked, narrowing his eyes at me. Nothing had happened.

Darn.

“Oh, I simply thought that I should pray in celebration now that the shrines are all clean.” It was a random excuse, but it was worth a try. So, with Anastasius, Eglantine, and their retainers watching me, I uttered a prayer and shot some mana up into the sky.

Still, nothing happened.

What am I supposed to do...? The gods could have been a little less ambiguous.

In any case, it was still too early to despair. The underground archive contained more documents about the shrines; perhaps they would give me an idea of what to do next.

But, well, I guess a rejuvenation potion comes first.

Cleaning the shrines had cost me quite a lot of mana, and our extended journey had drained my stamina, even though I was riding in my highbeast. I wanted to recover both before returning to the underground archive, so I went to grab the kindness-filled potion from my hip.

Ottilie’s expression changed to one of worry. “Lady Rozemyne, was performing all of those waschens too much for your body to endure? Even if not, I strongly believe that you have traveled too far today...”

“Fear not,” Anastasius said, “that was the last shrine. We shall give Rozemyne some time to rest before we return to the library.”

I waved away Ottilie’s concerns and smiled. “I will be fine once I can recover my mana.”

Oh...?

As I waited for the potion to take effect, the feeling that I was unable to control the mana overflowing within me suddenly began to fade. Little by little, I even started to compress my mana. I could now increase my quantity as easily as before my divine protections ritual.

I stared down at my hands, and tilted my head. Could it be that my schtappe has grown...?

“Is something the matter, Lady Rozemyne?” came Eglantine’s voice. She had noticed the look in my eyes and was proffering a sound-blocking magic tool. Anastasius adroitly noticed our intention to have a private conversation and came over, so Eglantine gave him a sound-blocker as well with a half-smile.

“It feels as though my schtappe has evolved,” I told them.

“What?” said Anastasius. “Explain.”

“It really is just a feeling—I cannot say whether it is true—but do you remember how the schtappe I obtained in my first year no longer suited me after I performed the ritual for obtaining divine protections?”

“I do,” Anastasius replied with a nod.

I opened and closed my hand. “The tablets one acquires in the shrines are very much like Divine Wills. After obtaining them all, I gained superior control over my mana.”

“So one can change one’s schtappe by obtaining the shrines’ tablets...?” Eglantine mused aloud, then beamed a radiant smile. “That means there might still be hope for Prince Sigiswald.”

It was much too early to rejoice, in my opinion; one had to collect feystones and continuously offer mana at small shrines to obtain the protections of the primary gods, and we didn’t even know whether obtaining them through a repeated ritual would permit one entry to the large shrines. He had a long way to go in either case.

“That is a long and uncertain road,” I said. “He would need to pray at the small shrines, repeat his divine protections ritual to secure the protection of each primary god, then return to the Garden of Beginnings to improve his schtappe. I do not know whether that last step is even possible. Such matters are in the hands of the gods, so I can accept no responsibility for them.”

“Still, it is better than having no hope at all,” Eglantine replied. Her dazzling smile almost won me over, but I shook my head to drive away her false charms. “Lady Rozemyne?”

“We finished circling the shrines, but what now?” I asked, changing the subject.

“We will return to the underground archive,” Anastasius said. “Fourth bell is fast approaching. Everyone, on your highbeasts.”

I returned the sound-blocking magic tool and climbed into Lessy. Then, we all started making our way back to the library.

Ah!

Once we were in the air and above the trees, I saw that the colored lines connecting the shrines had formed a gigantic magic circle. We weren’t high up enough for me to see it all, and I couldn’t tell what it would do when activated, but it appeared to be covering the entire Royal Academy, with the central building quite appropriately at its center. The circle was probably focused on the Farthest Hall in particular.

I didn’t know what was happening, but I could tell that it was something extreme. My heart pounded unpleasantly in my chest.