“Not at all. It’s rather amusing. Do you have more?”
“Let’s see...”
Oberon appeared to be unsociable at first, but she turned out to be quite skilled at conversation. She brought up more strange examples of her psychological tests and managed to surprise the others every single time. Before they knew it, she was also smiling. Despite not being able to see her face, she truly gave off a feeling of a young girl engrossed with talks of love and fashion quite appropriate for her youthful voice.
A while later, the carriage arrived at the Holy City. The sky was dyed red by the setting sun. Zagan thought it would have taken more than a day to traverse this road, but they arrived before nightfall just as Raphael had predicted.
Oberon then changed the topic as if suddenly remembering something.
“Oh yes, I forgot to ask you earlier. What business do you two have in the Holy City?”
“Nothing serious. I’m looking for something... or someone. We’re also here to genuinely enjoy some sightseeing.”
“Looking for someone?”
Zagan shifted his gaze over to Nephy, whose expression had softened up completely.
“There’s someone I’d like her to meet, and they may be here in town. Well, the need for it may have vanished thanks to you, though.”
It felt like his primary goal of relieving Nephy’s tension had already been accomplished.
“Hmm. I’ll give you a call if I happen to see them.”
“Aah, that’d be great.”
Zagan then returned the question.
“I suppose you two are here for work?”
There was no other reason for Angelic Knights to come to the Holy City, and Oberon nodded.
“Yes. Also, I guess you can say I came here to retrieve something that was once entrusted to me.”
“I see. I pray that it ends well for you.”
The carriage came to a stop. Apparently, they had arrived at the church. Nephy then held her hand out to Oberon.
“Um, talking with you was fun. Thank you very much.”
Even behind her helmet, it was clear that Oberon’s eyes shot open before she shook Nephy’s hand.
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. I’m glad we met.”
The boy then held out his hand to Zagan as well.
“Sorry for saying something so rude at first. I was able to escort Lady Oberon to the Holy City thanks to you. It was quite a fun trip, too.”
“Don’t worry about it. I was also amused.”
Those words came from Zagan’s heart.
I mean, Nephy had fun and all!
Oberon and the boy then dismounted the carriage.
“They were an interesting pair, weren’t they?”
“Yes,” Nephy said, then she paused, cocked her head, and continued. “Huh? But she never asked who it was that you were searching for, Master Zagan.”
Zagan shrugged his shoulders lightly and held his hand out to Nephy.
“Anyway, our date starts now. Let’s go.”
And with a slight blush to her cheeks, Nephy took his hand.
“Yes, dear.”
◇
Around the time Zagan arrived in the Holy City of Raziel, Chastille found herself in the central cathedral. Over ten thousand visitors stopped by every day. Cardinals and archbishops gave sermons in the chapel, where devout believers offered their thanks and confessed their sins. And Chastille was currently about a dozen meters beneath that location.
This was where the crypt would be located in a normal church, but a large round table was enshrined beneath the cathedral. There were twelve seats, the same number as the Sacred Swords which symbolized the church’s power. Chastille arrived at her seat, a chair engraved with the name of her Sacred Sword, Azrael.
There were still vacant seats even though their meeting was supposed to start soon. And because of that, the air already felt tense. The weak of heart would surely faint from just stepping foot in the room.
Chastille held back her sigh in the heavy atmosphere. Her figure, clad in Anointed Armor and with her crimson hair tied to the side, was truly gallant and beautiful. This was her public image during “work mode” that hid her crybaby self.
An Angelic Knight with a large build plunked down in the seat across from her. He was close to 40 years old. His muscular build was large enough that it looked cramped within his Anointed Armor. He stroked his plentiful mustache and plainly showed his contempt for her.
“Hmph. How strange. There’s a traitor here in the sacred cathedral.”
“What a dire situation, Lord Kaltiainen. Do you require my aid?”
Chastille was more than prepared for this level of ridicule, so she replied with a cool air about her. The large Angelic Knight, Kaltiainen, ground his teeth and glared back at her.
“Stop that, both of you. We did not gather today to quarrel amongst ourselves.”
A knight with long hair kept the two of them in check. This knight was still young, and looked to be just around 30. He had loose wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. His looks and the way he held himself were the ideal image of a knight. He was seated directly to Chastille’s right.
Kaltiainen shot him a deathly glare.
“Stay out of this, Valjakka. This isn’t the place for such a dainty man to cut in.”
“I beg to differ. Lady Lillqvist is a woman before she is an Angelic Knight. And a knight must respect a woman, no?”
Valjakka brushed back his bangs and smiled provocatively, to which Kaltiainen returned a disconcerted look.
“Hmph. Knights? You mean murderers. All we’re here for is to destroy those fucking sorcerers. Leave justice and chivalry and all that other nonsense to the oh-so-holy cardinals to prattle about.”
Kaltiainen practically spat out his words, reclined in his seat, and shut his mouth. The high-quality oak chair creaked as if it was about to break from the stress. Valjakka took a sidelong glance at the crude Angelic Knight, then shook his head as he spoke to Chastille in a somewhat intimate tone.
“Just as hot-headed as ever, isn’t he? But Lady Lillqvist, I can’t say that I find such provocative behavior from you all that admirable. Are you at least aware of what position you find yourself in here?”
“Your concern is unnecessary, Lord Valjakka. I’m not such a feeble maiden that I require such pity.”
“You’ll always be a feeble maiden to me. I’ll never be able to face Sylvester if something were to happen to you.”
That was the name of Chastille’s brother who died five years ago. He once served as Valjakka’s adjutant.
“...I know.”
Chastille’s shoulders drooped down, and Valjakka couldn’t help but sigh. He then took another look at the other seats around the table.
“But you really should restrain yourself for now. Everyone is quite worked up.” And with that as a preface, his tone turned grim. “Because one of the twelve Sacred Swords has fallen into the hands of an Archdemon.”
It meant that one of the twelve seats in this room would forever be empty. It was the reason Chastille was called here, the reason the eleven remaining Archangels were summoned to assemble.
A dull clang resounded throughout the room as Kaltiainen struck the sheathe of his Sacred Sword against the floor.
“There’s no way a man of Raphael’s caliber lost in a direct confrontation. He must have fallen prey to a cowardly trap set by one of those filthy sorcerers!”
The Archangels entrusted with the Sacred Swords were still human. It was normal for them to lose their lives in battle. And every time that happened, it was up to the remaining eleven Archangels to see that the Sacred Sword was handed over to its next wielder.
The ceremony of passing down the Sacred Swords had gone on for hundreds of years. This was the first time that a Sacred Sword meant to be passed to another was lost with its wielder. And just the other day, it came to light that it had fallen into the hands of Archdemon Zagan.
Not that it fell to him or
anything... Lord Raphael is still alive and well... Chastille was the only one who knew this, but there was no way she could say that. Kaltiainen’s stony face was now soaked in tears, perhaps because he was well acquainted with Raphael.
Just then, the door to the room opened unceremoniously, and the completely unmotivated voice of a middle-aged man filled the air.
“Oh come on, what’s with the commotion? Anyways, stop crying Kaltiainen. Here, take my handkerchief... Yeah, I know, Raphael was a good guy.”
This man also understood that it was time to mourn Raphael’s loss. Kaltiainen took the handkerchief and replied while sobbing.
“Ooooh! Don’t say it Diekmeyer! I never...! I never knew another man who could kill sorcerers with such a refreshing air about him! He was the first man I ever respected!”
“...Hey. How about you stop dribbling your snot everywhere?”
The one to sit down next to the dejected Kaltiainen was a middle-aged knight... Michael Diekmeyer. After noticing Chastille, he casually raised his hand to her.
“Yo, Chastille. Been about a month, right?”
“Have you had enough of the sea already, Lord Michael?” Chastille replied, and Michael turned pale as he shook his head.
“Please, no more. I finally got called back here. I don’t even want to remember the sea.”
Michael smiled weakly, but knowing his true identity, Chastille couldn’t take his behavior at face value.
Archdemon Andrealphus... I still can’t believe that I’m meeting him like this. The man said to be the strongest Archangel, who went by the name Michael here, was also the sorcerer who served as the head Archdemon. She had no idea what to believe anymore given his usually flippant attitude.
These four knights were the only ones in the room who stood out with their speech and conduct. The other Angelic Knights simply sat in their seats and remained silent. Not everyone was present yet, but the silent knights were the relatively young ones. There was one among them in his thirties named Hartonen, who was famous for his taciturnity, but there were more people present from Chastille’s generation.
It hasn’t even been a year since they inherited the Sacred Swords, so it’s somewhat understandable. Chastille was accustomed to it, since she’d inherited her Sacred Sword at the age of thirteen. When she first became an Archangel though, she was probably just like them.
The reason there were so many young Archangels was because nearly half of the preceding Archangels had died in battle a year ago. It was the battle Raphael would have died in had he not sipped on Orobas’ blood.
The young Archangels were those who had inherited the Sacred Swords after that. It was only normal for them to keep quiet at a meeting commemorating the death of the Archangel known as the most dreadful while a senior Archangel like Kaltiainen was ranting and raving.
But that heavy atmosphere shattered in an instant.
“Oh, isn’t that Chastille? Haven’t seen you since Alshiere Imera, huh?”
A familiar voice called out to Chastille like they had no idea how to read the room, and Chastille shot up to her feet and stared back in wonder.
“S-Stella? Why...?”
She was Zagan’s childhood friend and sister-figure. She had red hair like Chastille’s and a single red eye. Her other eye was hidden by her bangs. She was wearing a sorcerer’s robe the last time Chastille met her, but today she was wearing the formal ceremonial clothes of an Angelic Knight.
Stella let out a troubled laugh.
“I don’t really get it, but I was told to come along. What to do? Ahahaha...”
“Oh, you’re late, Stella. Not that you have a seat. Just stand behind me.”
“...What? I don’t even get a chair? Why’d I have to come along then?”
Stella sounded completely out of place, and Kaltiainen yelled at her with a vein popping out of his forehead.
“Shut it, woman! This isn’t the place for the likes of you!”
His choice of words was somewhat high-handed, but he wasn’t entirely wrong. Only Archangels were supposed to be allowed in this room. Both Nephteros and Richard were standing by outside because of this. It wasn’t clear whether Stella was aware of this, but she simply replied with a ferocious smile.
“Hah? It’s not like I came here ’cause I wanted to, ya know?”
The silver eye beneath her bangs gave off an ominous glow.
Chastille had built an amicable relationship with this girl because of her friendship with Zagan, but it didn’t change the fact that she was a sorcerer. There was no way she could leave a good impression on an Angelic Knight.
Wait a sec! Is she planning on rampaging here?! She was Zagan’s family. Chastille considered her an ally, but she didn’t think they could win against nearly ten other Archangels.
No, maybe we can? Lord Michael’s on her side too, so isn’t it possible? Stella possessed enough strength to give off that impression. But if the other Archangels were to find out about her identity, there was no way they would let her get away with her life.
Chastille turned pale, and the no-good geezer who also couldn’t read the room smiled as he clapped his hands.
“Mmm! Your teacher’s proud to see you deepening your bonds already, but let’s be just a bit gentler, okay? I mean, look. Kaltiainen’s totally ready to draw his sword.”
He didn’t quite have his hand on the hilt of his sword, but Kaltiainen was glaring at Michael with enough bloodlust that it was completely implied that he would cut him down if he took a single step forward.
“Hey, is this fucking woman an acquaintance of yours?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. Let me introduce her. This is my disciple, Stella. I plan on recommending her when the next vacancy for a Sacred Sword opens up, so I brought her along.”
Even Stella looked at Michael in complete shock.
“...Huh? That’s the first I’ve heard of this though?”
“What? I never told you?”
Michael reacted like he was fooling around, leading even the other Angelic Knights who had remained quiet to shout while still remaining sharply alert of him.
“So you mean she’s an Archangel candidate, Lord Diekmeyer?!”
“Why do you have to bring up something so important in such a ridiculous manner?!”
The ones who criticized him in exasperation were two knights who looked very similar.
“Oh, you two Juutilainen brothers sure do get along, huh?”
These Archangels were brothers who had both inherited Sacred Swords. The older brother was 20, while the younger brother had only inherited the Sacred Sword a few days ago at the age of 17. Both of them possessed enough skill to be ranked in the top five at the swordsmanship school in the Holy City.
The two of them were able to talk frankly with Michael despite their ages precisely because of his flippant personality. However, Chastille may have been the one who was most thrown off by this new information.
Stella is an Archangel candidate...? Was this the reason Archdemon Andrealphus went as far as lowering his head to Zagan to leave Stella under his care? And was Zagan aware of this? Chastille groaned and noticed a small girl peeking into the room through the door Stella had come in from.
Is that the girl I met on Alshiere Imera...? Chastille had yet to sit back down, and she rushed over towards the girl.
“Oh, you’re...”
“Chastille. You’re Lisette, right?”
Lisette nodded back slightly. She was wearing neat and tidy clothes like the daughter of a noble, in complete contrast to what Chastille had seen her wearing before.
I thought she stayed with Zagan, but I guess Stella is taking care of her.
“Is she going to be okay?” Lisette asked in a trembling voice.
Chastille smiled and brushed her head to get her to calm down.
“It’s all right. Stella is stronger than I am. She won’t lose to people of this level.”
She was doing her best to comfort the little girl, but her choice of words was
clearly wrong.
“...Hey, can you stop fanning the flames?” Michael said as he started to feel a migraine erupt. Kaltiainen’s veins were already popping, and now he leaped to his feet with his Sacred Sword in hand.
“Very well. I’ll take you on.”
“Hey, come on, cut it out. There’s no need for you to glare down an apprentice like that, right?”
“Nope. I can smell the stench of a sorcerer from this one. I can’t stand it!”
“Huh? Seriously?”
Michael surely didn’t think she would be exposed by scent, so he began sniffing his own armpits to check himself as well.
Well, Lord Michael will be the most troubled one here if her identity is exposed... Chastille thought.
And just as Kaltiainen was about to draw his sword with bloodshot eyes...
“Stop right there!”
Another Angelic Knight came in from behind Lisette. It was a boy who was still thirteen, putting him around the same age as Lisette. His stature was small enough that his Anointed Armor looked too big for him. He had chestnut hair and green eyes, and he conducted himself in a serious manner. Chastille wasn’t aware of this, but it was the same boy who had accompanied Zagan in his carriage along with an elven Angelic Knight.
The majority of those in this room were reminded of the name of another man by this boy’s presence. And the one to laugh in good humor at that was, of course, none other than Michael.
“You’re late, Junior. All the geezers got here on time. It’s not admirable for the young ones to be late.”
“Lord Michael was also late.”
Chastille got a quick quip in, and Michael averted his gaze with a whistle.
“I apologize for being late,” the young boy said with a sigh. “But Lord Diekmeyer, please stop calling me Junior.”
Michael slapped his own forehead shamelessly at his slip of the tongue.
“Oops. My bad. Head Archangel Ginias Galahad II.”
This boy was, in fact, the one who served as the head of all Archangels. He was the child of the previous Head Archangel Ginias Galahad, who had lost his life in the battle against the demons. He was right next to Chastille as the youngest in history to be appointed the title of Archangel.
All eyes in the room naturally converged on him, but there was one other who disregarded that entirely and entered the room. It was another Angelic Knight who wasn’t all that different in stature from Ginias. She looked to be a woman and was wearing a helmet that hid her face, despite being indoors.
An Archdemon's Dilemma: How to Love Your Elf Bride: Volume 9 Page 10