The Holy City Trumpet Shall exuded an aura of luxury and sanctity, almost as if it demanded we perceive it that way.
The white walls embellished with golden decorations, paired with numerous sculptures and ornaments crafted by commissioned artists, were undeniably stunning. However, just like how wearing designer brands from head to toe cannot conceal a lack of depth,
This fancy and grand city betrayed its lack of refinement, unable to mask its excessive wealth.
Take, for instance, the architecture.
Most of the structures associated with the Church of the Goddess were exceptionally tall, dwarfing the relatively shorter buildings around them. The skyline was perpetually dominated by the overwhelming presence of the Church of Goddess. Very much so.
It was so excessive that it reminded me of my hometown, where an overabundance of glowing red crosses lit up the city at midnight.
This wasn’t a coincidence but an enforced rule, like old medieval laws. Just as nobles would not allow the construction of buildings taller than their own estates, the Church of the Goddess prohibited any structures that could rival their authority in height.
In this city, anything lavish or attention-grabbing was inevitably tied to the Church. This silent yet oppressive monopoly felt suffocating, leaving an unsettling impression.
Not that it was inherently wrong.
Using height to symbolize authority and dominance was a classic strategy. Even Crownhall’s Imperial Family displayed their power and stability through their grand palace.But the issue lay in the fact that this was being done by a religious institution. The Church was attempting to reinforce its divine authority not through genuine reverence but by wielding power and greed,
It was⋯⋯ kind of not cool.
Like watching a three-meter-tall knight in full steel plate armor shooting a mini arrow from an even tinier bow.
As I stirred the tea in my cup with a teaspoon, I spoke.
“Don’t you think so, My Lady?”
“⋯⋯I must admit, I’m hesitant to say.”
The young lady beat around the bush with a troubled expression on her face.
The way the noble young lady spoke often carried layers of meaning far beyond their words. Translating her response might yield something like:
Discussing such a topic in a coffee shop within the Holy City? How daring. But I don’t have that kind of guts. Please exercise some restraint.
Or something along those lines.
Clatter. The sound of my teaspoon lightly tapping the edge of the teacup broke the silence.
“Judging by the fact that you requested a private meeting, it seems you’ve made up your mind about what you wish to ask of me.”
“⋯⋯Yes.”
This meeting had been initiated at the young lady’s request. Anticipating the gravity of the topic, I sent out Pink-Haired Lesbian and Evil God-chan to explore the city or something.
Time needed to be used efficiently, so while I spoke with the young lady, it would be nice if the other two could search for clues regarding the whereabouts of Bennett’s party.
Yes, it was an excuse.
I had sent Evil God-chan away to prevent her from blurting out something outrageous like this guy flirted with your father in front of the young lady. As for Pink-Haired Lesbian, I just couldn’t trust Evil God-chan to run around unsupervised.
I still hadn’t heard any news about Yuna, who had transformed into a butterfly. She was probably somewhere nearby.
“I am.”
The young lady began to speak after organizing her thoughts. Her light-blue hair, which resembled a snowy landscape, shimmered under the sunlight, refusing to fade or melt.
In that brief moment, I observed her closely. From the way her expression shifted subtly, from her head to her spine, and finally to her lips, I noted the transformation with interest.
Once paralyzed by fear over her misfortunes, the young lady had now pieced together the fragments of information she had been given and placed her bets.
Her icy gaze now gleamed with the determination of a gambler.
“I was exiled from the Julius Grand Duke Family to eliminate any potential source of internal discord.”
“Oh? Go on.”
This was shaping up to be an entertaining story. I leaned forward, lifting my back off the chair to signal that she had my undivided attention. It was time to listen to her story.
===============================================================
She had realized upon their first meeting that the wizard and his companions standing before her were anything but ordinary.
When she first saw Crazy Wizard and Evil God-chan through the bars of her cell, their
appearance had seemed almost comical, but⋯⋯.
It became clear they were anything but ordinary when they didn’t even flinch upon learning her identity as the firstborn of the Grand Duke Julius’ Family. Because people who were indifferent to such significant status usually fell into one of four categories.
Ignorant fools who didn’t know any better, those whose own status was so high they didn’t care, or those who were so powerful that they didn’t need to care.
“You’re finished. I’ll show you the power of joint locks!”
“GEU, AAAAAACK──!!”
⋯⋯Or maybe they were simply a little insane.
The Julius Family was one of the 3 greatest families in the Empire. Of course, their influence was unrivaled among nobles, with only the Imperial Family standing above them.
Yet here was someone casually locking a young girl into an armbar right before the Lady—behavior that was, to put it mildly, memorable.
Lady Ervasillion was freed from her cell with the help of the Crazy Wizard and his party.
Crazy Wizard had asked her to wait, claiming there was something he needed to locate in the village. As someone who had just been rescued, she had little choice but to agree.
Left with idle time, the young noblewoman took the opportunity to examine the aftermath of the battle between the Crazy Wizard’s party and the villagers.
The once-mighty Paladin, and many of the villagers were nowhere to be found. Only very few bodies lay scattered on the ground.
The young lady seriously considered the possibility of whether the Crazy Wizard and the villagers were somehow in league. But something felt off.
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
She scrutinized the remaining corpses. There were no visible injuries. They had died without external wounds. There were no signs of fire, ice, or earth magic.
Then could this have been Illusion Magic?
But Illusion Magic was considered impractical for combat. How could it have killed so many⋯⋯.
At least some members of this party must have reached Metamorphosis. There was no other plausible explanation. What sort of group with power like that would be wandering through such a remote mountain path? And why had they saved her?
Her mind churned with questions.
The seemingly genuine kindness shown by the wizard who led the group only deepened her confusion. It was not the kind of courtesy aimed at gaining power or support from her.
If that had been the case, their speech and actions wouldn’t have been so relaxed and carefree.
This mystery was solved in the Elmest Estate. The young lady’s bewilderment finally found clarity there.
“You see, uh⋯⋯ I happen to have connections with the current Grand Duke of the North. We’re quite close, you could say. I could offer some assistance if you’d like, Lady Erbasillion.”
The wizard’s peculiar kindness was due to his personal connection with the Grand Duke of the North. Yet his tone and behavior were astonishingly casual, as though they had been lifelong friends.
Her father, the Grand Duke of the North, was a cold man.
He valued practicality over sentimentality, and he was closer to ice. It was he who had sent her away to the distant monastery. Could this man truly have a close relationship with her father?
“That man… he’s got a bit of a difficult personality, doesn’t he? Should I say stubborn? Or maybe a bit bullheaded?”
⋯⋯To the extent that he could casually criticize her father’s flaws?
What should she do?
When she left her estate, the young lady believed she had steeled herself for anything. She thought she had resigned herself to a life of solitude in the monastery.
But perhaps what she felt wasn’t determination, but surrender.
Her heart raced uncontrollably as the faintest glimmer of hope began to emerge.
Maybe she could carve out a better life for herself—not a slow decaying death in the monastery, but a chance to live freely under a new identity⋯⋯.
To be a bit greedy, she wondered if this wizard might even persuade the Grand Duke of the North to reinstate her position in her homeland. She yearned to return to the harsh yet beautiful snowy fields she called home.
She did not want to die in some foreign land, buried in unfamiliar soil. She wished to rest beneath the snowy fields where she had been born, embraced by mother nature’s soil⋯⋯.
She observed. Inside the rattling carriage, the young lady scrutinized and analyzed the Crazy Wizard relentlessly.
He was cheerful, occasionally unsettling, unpredictable, and yet fundamentally simple. Also, much like a recluse who had never stepped foot outside the Magic Tower, he was surprisingly naive about the world.
There were gaps in his common knowledge—things anyone would naturally learn from living in society. This was a critical vulnerability she made a note to remember.
When the group decided their next destination would be the Holy City of Trumpethall…
And when Crazy Wizard decided to meet privately with her…
The young lady made up her mind. She felt an undeniable sense of destiny. She needed a better life, and this seemed like an opportunity bestowed by the heavens. Even if this was a rotten lifeline, she was determined to grab it.
Actually, she didn’t want to go to the monastery at all.
So…
===============================================================
The Young Lady straightened her back, enveloping herself in an air of noble elegance.
It wasn’t the overbearing demeanor of someone looking down on others but rather a composed refinement that reflected her innate dignity and grace. Her blue eyes sparkled.
“I understand that your courtesy to my father doesn’t not necessarily need to extend to me without reason. That is why my request for you is not unreasonable.”
I grasped the situation perfectly.
My exile was my father’s will, and interfering in such matters would undoubtedly put you in conflict with him.
I knew that he wouldn’t want that. So…
“But all I ask is that you arrange for me to meet one person. His name is Dakiten Julius—he is my uncle.”
It was an interesting request. Crazy Wizard treated it like a riddle, peeling back its layers through careful questions to uncover her true intentions.
“Where is he?”
“He is a wanderer who roams the world, but he will arrive in the Holy City of Trumpethall for the festival.”
“Who is he?”
“He is a former Cardinal, a man of devout faith and unwavering belief, and now he serves as a Battle Priest.”
“Aha⋯⋯.”
And so, the pieces began to fall into place.
Crazy Wizard’s thoughts drifted to an old memory. When the Second Prince Irid had assembled specialists from across the Empire to save Centra, there had been a reserved Battle Priest among them.
At the time, the priest hadn’t stood out enough to leave a strong impression. Still, he could remember that striking blue hair. A family connection, perhaps.
“Is that all you want? I could grant you more.”
“If you could be so generous, I would also like to request protection until I meet Uncle Dakiten.”
“That’s not a difficult request. I’ll promise you that.”
“⋯⋯Thank you. Dear nameless wizard.”
The Young Lady bowed. With just a right angle—neither too deep to seem servile nor too shallow to appear dismissive. Crazy Wizard admired the precision of her gesture as he smiled faintly.
A former Cardinal, now a Battle Priest
The title of Cardinal was reserved for those at the pinnacle of the Church of the Goddess. Anyone who had once held such a position would undoubtedly be well-versed about the Goddess. This was an opportunity for Crazy Wizard as well.
A former Cardinal. Whether he had willingly stepped down or had been forced out due to conflicts with the current leadership, even a slightest friction with the Church’s current ruling class would make him even better.
Was this the reward for his kindness? Or the fruit of long hours of effort in the Violet Tower finally ripening? Either way, it was a chance to dig deeper into the secrets of the Goddess.
Crazy Wizard rubbed his hands together and eventually spoke.
“I’ve promised to grant your wish, and I will⋯⋯ but you’re quite the cunning one, my Lady.”
“⋯⋯Pardon?”
“The generosity you ask of me doesn’t entirely add up. Surely, there’s something you’re deliberately withholding, right? Because I looked ignorant of common sense?”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
“For instance, this『Hero Selection Tournament』. The scale seems bigger than I anticipated, and the title of Hero carries significant weight. If there’s no limit to the participants⋯⋯ wouldn’t nobles naturally be interested?”
Not just interested—they would undoubtedly want the Hero to emerge from their sphere of influence.
On the way to the city, the Crazy Wizard had noticed several luxurious carriages. And although he didn’t really care about noble crests, there were a few that had caught his eye.
Like the emblem of the Duke of Redburn.
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
“And if that’s the case, wouldn’t it make sense for the North, which backs the Duke⋯⋯ to send someone as well? Especially since your father, the Grand Duke of the North, is known for his ambition.”
So, in addition to asking to meet her uncle, the Lady was effectively requesting protection from the Northern Grand Duke, should he appear.
It wasn’t a difficult request for Crazy Wizard to fulfill, so he was going to grant it but──
But when someone pulls an obvious joke like, What I’m asking is by no means unreasonable , it’s hard to resist probing a little deeper.
The Young Lady’s face grew paler as time went on.
Crazy Wizard’s mischievous side stirred*. Should I tease her a bit more? We could just sit in this tense silence for a while, or maybe should I ask her to do something cute?*
Just as he was about to indulge in his petty whims at her expense…
“MIMA, MIMA──!!”
A desperate cry of a girl echoed from the boulevard. Crazy Wizard jumped up like a startled meerkat, craning his neck to locate the source.
“What. No, why are you calling me so desperately like th⋯⋯ oh for fuck’s sake”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯?”
“My Lady, don’t worry about your request. It’s a simple matter for me, and I’ll make sure your uncle is located, even if he’s not in this city. But do me a simple favor in return—it’s about saving someone.”
“⋯⋯Pardon?”
===============================================================
While Bennett was fully aggroed, all I needed was time.
Time to come up with an explanation for Evil God-chan’s presence. I just needed a moment. But with Bennett’s longsword mere seconds away from slicing her in two⋯⋯ I needed to stop the fight immediately.
So I used the Young Lady.
“Stop Bennett! A helpless noble Young Lady is being held hostage here! So stop first! Give me time to clear up all the misunderstandings!”
“Nyah-nyah, Bennett! Now that Mima’s here, you’re just a punch away from defeat!”
“And what exactly do you think you’re bragging about, huh!”
“So, you’ve finally fallen, Crazy Wizard──!!”
In the midst of this chaos—this absurd hostage standoff in the middle of the road of Holy City—the Young Lady’s face had an expression like a cat drifting through space.
***
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