Free Web NovelChapter 648: Episode 648
"Students Simon and Toto, I believe I just heard a female student’s voice. Could you please open the door?"
It was the terror of the department, a woman famous for showing no mercy and sending students to the disciplinary committee strictly by the book. The hook-nosed dorm supervisor knocked again, her expression grim.
’Knock, knock, knock, knock.’
"Are you in there?"
She didn’t wait for an answer. She immediately produced a ring of keys, selected the correct one by feel alone, and inserted it into the lock. With a sharp click, the door swung open.
The dorm room was empty. The window was shut.
"Did we hear wrong?" the junior supervisor accompanying her muttered.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the head supervisor strode across the room and threw open the window. She reached out, her hand sweeping the exterior frame until she plucked a single, small bone from the ledge.
The junior’s eyes widened. "Don’t tell me..."
"Yes," she confirmed. "They slipped out the window and then used Bone Armor to close it behind them." For a supervisor who had worked her way up through the ranks, a trick like this was child’s play.
The junior’s face hardened. "I’ll summon Student Simon and Student Toto to your office tomorrow morning!"
The head supervisor didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she gazed out the open window.
A roar of laughter and celebration drifted up from below.
She could see the students of the Summoning Department enjoying themselves. Eshe had just popped a bottle of champagne, getting foam all over her face, sending her friends collapsing to the ground in fits of laughter. After watching them for a long moment, the supervisor closed the window. She walked over to Simon’s desk, placed the small bone upon it, and said, "Just for today should be fine."
With only those words, she turned and left. The junior supervisor stared at her retreating back in utter astonishment. ’The supervisor...?’
It seemed the sun would rise in the west tomorrow.
---
As the Dark Festival drew to a close, it was time for farewells. Simon and Lethe arrived at Grelion’s cave, where the atmosphere had relaxed considerably now that Ever Kyre was captured. Though everyone was exhausted from working all night, their expressions were bright.
"I’m going to be thinking about this when I get back," a paladin mused.
An amusing sight caught Simon’s eye: a paladin and a necromancer, now apparently friends, were playing a card game on a stone slate. While most paladins stood firm in their faith, there were clearly some who could relax and trade jokes with their sworn enemies. Simon found it a heartening sight.
And...
"Hweeeh—"
A familiar figure was slumped in a chair. A wide grin spread across Simon’s face as he ran over. "Your Holiness!"
The Saintess of Harvest saw him and languidly raised a hand. "Long time no see, Mr. President."
"I’m so glad you’re safe!"
"Yeeeah."
Suddenly, stalks of wheat sprouted from the ground at Simon’s feet, tickling his cheeks. He laughed and stumbled back. "P-please don’t do that!"
"I didn’t do it," the Saintess of Harvest said with a shrug. "My authority is manifesting on its own. I think this power likes you."
"What are you talking about! Ugh, it tickles!"
With a soft thud, the Saintess’s head turned. "Ah. Good work, Saintess of Stars."
"Good grief." Lethe swept her bangs aside with an annoyed huff. "I had to go through hell because you got taken down, Senior. You’re making the name ’Saintess of Harvest’ weep."
"I couldn’t help it." She melted into her chair like a slime. "That fanatic dragged me into some strange space and made me fight a fake goddess. Divinity didn’t work on her."
It seemed she had faced the same ’fake god’ that Simon and Lethe had fought together.
Lethe snorted. "Fake god or not, if it were me, I would have won somehow."
"You seem to forget you had a mental breakdown in there... Ouch!" Lethe pinched Simon’s side sharply. He doubled over, rubbing the sore spot, as she whipped her head away.
"It seems it’s time for us to part."
Two thuds announced the arrival of Alistair, the Raven agent who had led the investigation. The necromancer agents around him bowed their heads in unison.
"Lady Nephthys has once again conveyed her gratitude to the two Saintesses. We will never forget this assistance."
"Enough with the flowery words between enemies," the Saintess of Harvest drawled, flicking her hand. "You’ve prepared what I requested, I trust?"
"Of course. Please confirm." Alistair produced a box from his subspace and presented it.
The Saintess of Harvest opened it and nodded in satisfaction. Inside lay a human hand, perfectly preserved.
"The great holy relic, ’The Priest’s Right Hand.’ I confirm its return."
Lethe’s eyes widened. "W-wait a minute! We came here with the promise of a reward?"
"What are you talking about? Of course we did," the Saintess said, rubbing the stitches over her eyes.
Lethe’s face flushed. "I-I didn’t hear anything from Lady Israphel!"
"So you really came here purely out of a sense of duty to prevent a war? You’re still so young. This is what you call adult business."
Watching from the side, Simon smiled wryly. ’Aunt Israphel, for an idealist, she’s quite the pragmatist.’
"And we have to get a reward of this caliber from the Dark Alliance—" Closing the relic box, the Saintess’s lips curled into a smirk. "—so that if we’re ever discovered to have been here, we’ll have ’something to say’ for ourselves. Remember that."
"Ah..."
Kajan, observing from a distance, scratched the scar under his eye. "The Priest’s Right Hand. A greater expenditure than anticipated."
"Lady Nephthys’s will to prevent a war was strong," Alistair replied.
Just then, a communication crystal in Alistair’s pocket chimed. After listening to the report, he announced, "The teleportation magic circle is ready. Let’s move."
Soon, they all gathered at the circle, bidding each other farewell. Those who had grown close over the past few days exchanged final words. Alistair spoke with the Saintess of Harvest, while Kajan exchanged information with a paladin.
"It’s a shame I have to leave without sleeping with a hot babe," a blond paladin said with a greasy wink. A female necromancer agent laughed and gave him the middle finger.
"You’re crazy. Won’t your goddess smack your ass for that?"
"Procreation is sacred. The goddess will surely forgive me."
Some had become friendly enough to trade such jokes. Amidst the bustle...
"Lethe."
Taking advantage of the commotion, Simon approached her. She awkwardly swept a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I was so happy you came to help our school. Get back safely. And please give my regards to Aunt Israphel."
She smiled playfully. "You know it’s your turn to come to Efnel next, right?"
"I’d probably fit in too well, that would be the problem."
They shared a quiet laugh, then their eyes met.
"..."
"..."
There were a million things to say, but in the final moment of parting, the words wouldn’t come. Lethe glanced at the bustling crowd, took a sharp breath, and strode forward. A hazy sensation enveloped Simon. And then...
’!!’
Her white hair brushed against his cheek, carrying the scent of lilies. A warm, comforting sensation followed as Lethe wrapped her arms around him. Simon’s face turned bright red, the hug catching him completely by surprise. In that brief moment, he felt something slip into his pocket. ’What’s this?’
She pulled away just as quickly, a faint blush on her cheeks as she averted her gaze. "W-well then, I’ll be going." She then scurried toward the teleportation circle as if fleeing. The Saintess of Harvest went first, followed by Lethe.
"Farewell, Your Holiness!" the necromancers called out.
"Go easy on us if we meet on the battlefield!"
Simon waved. ’Goodbye, Lethe.’
She smiled and waved back as a brilliant blue light enveloped her.
---
After sending off Lethe and the Holy Federation contingent, the temporary investigation team was disbanded. Simon said his goodbyes to Kajan and Alistair and returned to his dorm room. Toto, having had his fill of wine at the party, was sound asleep.
’Peep! Pip! Pip!’
The bird that had delivered the letter was still there, hopping around the room. It seemed determined to stay until it had a reply to carry. Simon gave the bird some water and food.
"Alright." He changed into his pajamas, flopped onto his bed, and took out Lethe’s letter. He tore it open with a soft rustle. The seal had been intact when the bird arrived, but Lethe must have opened it, because it was now broken. He unfolded the pages.
’—To Simon.’
Her neat, meticulous handwriting filled the page.
’—I received a letter from Ms. Anna. She said she’s looking for a way to send a letter directly to the Sky Island, so I’m sending this. The child delivering this is a type of divine beast, she says. If you write a reply and tie it to its ankle, it will fly the long distance on its own and safely pass through the gate to the Sky Island.’
Simon smiled faintly and turned to the next page.
’—It feels too stiff to just tell you how to send a letter and end it there, so I’ll write a little about how I’m doing. I’m still attending Efnel and taking Saintess classes. There are so many things they tell me to do and so many things I have to know. You can meet all sorts of human trash here.’
She went on about her life as a Saintess and the various characters she encountered. Simon became completely engrossed, losing all track of time. ’My job as Kizen’s Student Council President was nothing compared to this.’ Her classes were about ascending from human to demigod, so they were incredibly strict and arduous. He felt a renewed sense of satisfaction with his own lot as he continued to read.
’—I feel like I’ve just been complaining. Are you doing well at Kizen? I heard you became the Student Council President. The thought of you strutting around with your shoulders squared makes me feel sick. If I catch you, I’ll fold your back the other way.’
That was terrifying. Simon unconsciously rubbed his back to make sure his spine was still intact before turning the page.
’—Do you remember? We promised that during the next break, I would come over to the Dark Alliance. I’ll try my best to go, since I want to see Ms. Anna, but I might not be able to if my Saintess class schedule is packed. Still, you better be waiting in Leshill. That’s an order. I want to see the divine beast children you’re raising. I also need to check how much your divinity magic has improved.’
’—Actually, the atmosphere at Efnel is unsettling. I’m worried about when a war might break out, or when the borders might close. Still, if we get to meet again during the break, we absolutely must...’
He saw a section where she had furiously scribbled over the words with her quill. The ink was still fresh, a clear sign of Lethe’s handiwork. He could almost picture her blushing face in those frantic scribbles.
A chuckle escaped him. "Ah, I wonder what she was going to say." He covered his face with the letter and spread his arms wide. The bird chirped and flew over, pecking at his arm as if to hurry him into writing a reply.
---
Roc Island. Kizen Headquarters, Nephthys’s Office.
"Oh, it’s connected!" Nephthys exclaimed. The crystal orb fizzed with static, and the sound of howling wind filled the room. "Heyyy! Grand Duke! You busy?"
The connection was poor. After a moment, a voice came through, disciplined yet calm.
’—Are you at leisure?’
Nephthys hopped onto her chair and whined, "Hmph! So mean! This is a signal I finally caught after trying to contact the North over a hundred times!"
’—I am busy. I am hanging up.’
"Wait! Wait! Just listen to me!" She grinned, raising her quill pen. "Grand Duke! Have you heard the news about the 7th Legion?"
’—...Yes.’
"Wow, news travels even to a harsh place like that! It must be a really big deal!"
’—As for the identity of the 7th Legion Commander, I know nothing.’
Nephthys waved her hand dismissively. "Do you think I contacted you just to ask that?"
’—...You already know who it is.’
"Yep. But he still has too many flaws to be revealed to the world as a Legion Commander. It’s too dangerous. So..." A frightening smile curled her lips. "I think it’s best for a Legion Commander to be taught by a Legion Commander."
Silence emanated from the communication orb for a long moment. Then...
’Beeep— Beeep—’
"Wait! Grand Duke! Grand Duuuke!"
