Chapter 23: Buttoning the First Button (6)
I had wondered about it for a long time.
How had she been able to find me so precisely when I had been constantly on the run?
And how had she uncovered those Cultists of the Evil God so cunningly hidden?
The answer was simple.
Yuran possessed a special ability that allowed her to sense the presence of a Cultist of the Evil God and, moreover, to accurately track down whatever target she wished to find.
That was why she had been able to locate both the cultists and me—people whom neither mages nor priests had been able to discover.
Her power could not be concealed by magic tools or spells that hid one’s presence.
And right now, I desperately needed that power.
“First, I will explain in detail what happened last weekend.”
“Sharply listen.”
…Sharply listen?
Did she mean she would listen attentively?
Facing Yuran’s solemn expression, I nodded.
“What happened was…”
I recounted to her in detail—and with precision—everything that had happened last weekend.
When my story came to an end, she spoke with a voice full of conviction, yet grave.
“Those who attacked. Followers.”
Followers.
I had a rough idea of what that meant.
‘Puppets whose minds have been subdued.’
A sorcery that turned a person into a puppet, moving according to the caster’s will.
However, they could not carry out complex orders, and the effect was short-lived.
More importantly, it did not work at all on those with a certain degree of strength, making it an awkwardly limited technique.
‘If it were in the future, it wouldn’t have worked at all.’
In the not-so-distant future from now—
When the Cultists of the Evil God began acting in earnest—it was a petty trick so well-known that even ordinary people knew how to counter it.
But at the present time, even the faintest trace of such magic was enough to shake not only the Holy Sun Church but many other places as well.
And the fact that it had been discovered on the scene…
It was no wonder that Sister Roberta had been so quick to take on the case.
“You mean followers?”
“Mm. Said a pattern was engraved on their foreheads. That, follower. Sorcery to bind and control the will. Have you heard of it?”
I nodded.
It would fit if I knew at least a bit about the matter.
“I know a little.”
“Then talk faster. The people who attacked benefactor—typical case of follower sorcery.”
Yuran frowned slightly and added,
“Wicked trick. Suppresses will of the victim and destroys the mind.”
“Followers, huh… Then the one who attacked me from behind must be the very one who cast the spell.”
“That is correct. Followers—hard to use without seeing from up close and speaking.”
She glanced at the mask fragment, dagger, and hair I had taken out.
“Those belong to him?”
“Yes. He dropped them during the fight, and I picked them up.”
“May I look at them for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Taking the items from me, Yuran examined them closely.
Before long, she handed them back, saying,
“Smell remains. But only that. Something is engraved on the mask, but it is not sorcery.”
“What about the hair and dagger?”
“Hair…? Ah, the head. Hair has faint smell of medicine. Also smell of sorcery. Dyed with water, spell layered on top. This is only my thought.”
She shrugged.
“I originally have difficulty determining true color. Recommend finding someone else.”
It was more or less the answer I had expected.
But at the end, Yuran took the dagger and shook her head as if baffled.
“This one—I cannot tell.”
“You can’t tell?”
“Yes. In such cases, there are a few possibilities.”
She carefully set the dagger down.
“Nothing was ever there. Or, the power has faded over time.”
“…”
“Or, conversely, the sorcerer is so powerful I cannot even grasp it, or the power appears only when several conditions are met.”
“Hmm…”
At her words, I let out a low hum.
Seeing me, she tilted her head slightly and said,
“If examined in detail, perhaps we will know. It will take time—do you wish it?”
“…No, that’s fine.”
Because I felt I already had a fair idea.
I had seen the tricks of the Cultists of the Evil God enough to be sick of them in the first place.
“So then.”
As I took a sip from my teacup, she quietly asked again,
“What help do you need?”
“…”
I looked at her and took a moment to steady my breath.
“…The power of the East is still an unfamiliar realm to us.”
Garusol had fought a fierce, drawn-out war with the Empire for years in the past.
Considering the difference in national power between the two, it should have been impossible.
And yet they had managed—because of that very “power unfamiliar to the Empire” I had just mentioned.
To the extent that the prolonged war had cost the Empire dearly, forcing it to propose not only a humiliating truce but also an alliance—and even openly coveting that power.
“Yuran, you detected the presence of a Cultist of the Evil God without difficulty. Instantly, at that.”
Yuran silently nodded.
Her gaze was steady, calm.
And in that silence, I found certainty.
“The Cultists of the Evil God have spent centuries hiding and fleeing.”
I spoke quietly, almost like a murmur.
“Neither magic nor holy power can easily find them. They long ago learned how to evade pursuit. That is why neither the Empire nor the Holy Sun Church could eradicate them.”
But—
Looking straight at her, I said,
“You are different. I thought you could track them using a power that is neither magic nor holy power. At first, it was just a hypothesis… but now, I’m sure of it.”
Yuran smiled.
It was a calm nod of agreement.
“Yes. Our people, and I, have such a method. Is this the help you speak of, benefactor?”
“That’s correct.”
“Dangerous. Very.”
Yuran frowned, as if to dissuade me.
“…I believe that the attack on me and my senior may not have been an ordinary matter.”
As I spoke, I carefully studied her expression.
She still looked straight at me, gaze unwavering—almost as if to say, Convince me if you can.
“Why would they attack in broad daylight, and right in front of the Academy?”
I continued slowly,
“Normally, they would go to great lengths to avoid their existence being revealed. And yet, to act in such a way… it means there was something they had to do, even at the risk of drawing attention to themselves.”
“…”
She stared at me for a moment before letting out a small sigh.
“What think you of telling another person?”
“Do you think others would believe me?”
I answered her commonsense question with the same commonsense truth, wearing a bitter smile.
“They’d tell me to stop talking nonsense and keep quiet. Say it’s not my place to get involved in the first place.”
“Mmm…”
“Yuran, I’m a timid person. If there’s a problem, I check and recheck until I’m sure, and I keep doubting.”
Even when I was ninety-nine percent certain, I couldn’t relax.
Too many times, that certainty had been overturned.
That’s why I always needed one more—
Until I had one more certainty, I would delay making a conclusion.
That habit might make things troublesome for me, but at least it didn’t put me in danger.
“I need certainty, Yuran.”
I spoke firmly to her.
“Certainty that I’m worrying for nothing—and that there is no threat around me.”
“…”
Yuran remained silent.
Only after some time did she quietly speak.
“…It is not right to come this far and still hide. So I shall reveal this as well.”
With that, she took something from her robes and placed it on the table.
A compass.
No, something in the shape of a compass.
“One of the methods I spoke of, Lian Gwendil.”
Yuran plucked one of her own hairs and placed it on the compass.
The needle, which had been still, slowly turned—until it pointed exactly in the direction where she sat.
“With this, we step upon evil’s footprints.”
“Does it only react to hair?”
“Blood, tears, flesh, nails—it reacts to anything that is of the one you seek.”
“…It’s similar to our method, yet different.”
At those words, Yuran’s eye twitched ever so slightly.
“…Your methods can be deceived and hidden. But this—once the conditions are met—cannot be deceived.”
She wore a subtly smug expression.
So she had this side to her as well.
At the unexpected sight, I cleared my throat lightly.
“But that means the conditions must be strict.”
“You see correctly. Your methods are easy but imprecise, ours are precise but difficult.”
Yuran nodded briskly.
“The range is not large. About half an hour’s walk. Beyond that, it cannot reach.”
Half an hour’s walk…
At most, that would be about as far as the eye could see from the roof of this faculty building.
“And the time?”
“Half a day. After that, new material is needed.”
“Not easy to keep using, then.”
“That’s right. Thus it is mostly used just to determine a direction.”
Yuran lifted the compass closer to herself.
The needle that had been pointing at her began to spin wildly in circles.
“When close, it reacts like this.”
“That’s kind of cute.”
Perhaps because it reminded me of a similar item I’d once bought on the street, I let out a small laugh without thinking.
Yuran only shrugged and carefully set the compass down again.
“It also requires pure material.”
“By pure material, you mean…”
“Cursed, enchanted, dyed, painted, dirty… anything less than pure, and it will often not react.”
“So you’re saying…”
“The hair you brought. It is tainted.”
She shook her head in regret.
“Thus it cannot be used.”
“…”
Silently, I picked up one of the hairs I’d brought and placed it on the compass needle.
As she had said, there was no reaction.
Yuran only looked at me, as if to say, See?
“At least in this respect, the East and we are similar.”
“What do you mean?”
“The conditions for tracking spells.”
Since I hadn’t expected much to begin with, I started rummaging in my robe.
“When the material is tainted, the accuracy of a tracking spell drops sharply. It’s the same for us.”
I took out a small vial.
Yuran tilted her head.
“What is that?”
“Something that will give me a bit of certainty—and you as well.”
Inside the vial was a clear, transparent liquid.
It was an item that, in a slightly more distant future, would be invented and widely used—
And would quickly become essential.
Bleach.
Yes, simply put, it was bleach.
It stripped away everything instantly—
Even if it was coated in all manner of chemicals and magic.
No, it went beyond simply stripping away—borrowing her words, it returned things to a “pure” state.
‘If you look at it one way, I’m essentially stealing…’
But it wasn’t as if I was going to announce to the world that I had invented it, so there shouldn’t be any trouble.
In truth, I would have been in a bind otherwise.
Of course, it would be rude to compare myself to that crazy Velita, but still—she had been a bona fide imperial princess.
Stealing an invention from a princess…
Just imagining the consequences was terrifying.
“…”
I picked up the hair from the table and dropped it into the vial.
The strands, soaking in the liquid, began—slowly but surely—to regain their original color.
“So, Yuran, please give me a bit of certainty as well.”
“…”
“I’m asking you.”
After that, I picked up the hair again and placed it on the compass.
The needle moved slowly, pointing not toward me, nor toward Yuran, but toward another direction entirely.
“…”
Yuran watched in silence, taking a tiny, quiet breath before murmuring,
“…Need a little preparation time.”
“Thank you.”
“This will not be counted.”
For a moment, I didn’t understand what she meant.
But soon I recalled that she had promised to repay my help three times.
She slowly rose from her seat and looked at me with eyes like a sparkling night sky.
“In exchange, I will come with you. Understand?”
I silently nodded.
In fact, from my perspective, that was reassuring.
She told me to wait and walked into the small laboratory attached to the faculty room.
Only after she disappeared did I set down the teacup I’d been holding absentmindedly all this time.
The tea had already gone cold.
“Phew…”
One person, at least.
Letting out a small sigh of relief, I looked at the hair sitting on the compass.
“…”
It was a pale green.
The low sound of heels echoed dully down the quiet hallway.
“Phew…”
Lancia Jintia almost let out a sigh, but suddenly stopped walking.
She realized she had been making noisy footsteps just moments ago.
She immediately adjusted her pace and posture.
That was the proper bearing for a Holy Knight.
‘…I don’t understand.’
Thinking that, Lancia moved soundlessly.
In her ears still rang the vivid memory of her conversation with Sister Roberta.
Sister Roberta was the only person in this Academy who knew her true identity.
[Lancia, you are to stay out of this matter.]
When she had asked why, the other woman had given her that seasoned look before replying,
[We cannot reveal your identity and put you at the forefront for something like this.]
[You know your mission better than anyone, don’t you? I also trust you haven’t forgotten that I came here with you to handle such matters.]
[I’ve already informed the proper channels. The Church has agreed to send someone. Now is the time to wait.]
[Enough, I will hear no more. Your opinion is valid, and I know what you’re worried about. But do you not understand that if you act swept away by emotion, you could end up ruining things instead?]
[If I need your help, I will tell you. For now, return and rest for the day.]
Frustrated, Lancia once again stopped walking.
Her footsteps had started echoing again.
No.
Calm down. Calm…
She took a quiet, deep breath to steady herself.
She knew full well she had a headstrong and emotional side.
But at least when it came to Cultists of the Evil God and the demon race, she believed such an attitude was not wrong at all.
Because instead of wasting time worrying, it was better to catch and kill as many of them as possible.
“Phew.”
Once she managed to calm her racing heart, she let out a small sigh.
Indeed, Sister Roberta’s reasoning had merit, and the mission she bore was by no means a light one.
Now was not the time to reveal her identity, just as Roberta had said.
Shameful.
With her reason returning, she realized she had been far too emotional and blushed.
She resolved to apologize properly later, then opened the dormitory door and stepped inside.
A dorm room so plain it felt empty.
Once back, Lancia immediately sat at her desk and pulled out a hidden box.
It was to carry out the daily routine she had never skipped even for a single day.
To uncover dissidents who went against the will of the Church, and to track down any Cultists of the Evil God who might be hiding their identities and infiltrating in secret.
“Mmm…”
From a box packed tightly with complex wiring, Lancia took out a small magic tool, held it to her ear, and began jotting things down.
On the paper were written the names of various people, their brief personal information, and detailed notes on what actions they had taken and what conversations they had had.
All of the names were people either connected to the Holy Sun Church or affiliated with the Crooks.
To elaborate further, they were individuals under covert investigation due to various suspicions as mentioned earlier.
[… …?]
“Hm?”
Just then, at a faint sound drifting from the device, Lancia frowned.
She instinctively brought it to her ear again and could make out the voices of two people.
[…do it or something!]
[The real reason… you attacked me…]
This is…
The voices were faint, making it hard to understand clearly, but she could tell something unusual was happening.
She glanced at the nameplate beneath the magic tool from which the voices were coming.
Duval Mackenzie.
One of the surveillance targets.
It was then, as she leaned closer to listen more carefully to the voices, that she heard—
[It’s simple.]
A completely unexpected yet familiar voice.
Lian Gwendil.
It was his voice.
But there was no time to be surprised.
[Because I can see the future.]
The words rang out clearly—
Words she could never simply ignore.