Chapter Seventy-Nine: Tensions Rising
In the Gregorian year of 1187, at the end of March.
After four days of drizzling rain, this morning the rainbow emerged as the rain finally cleared.
The Royal Academy continued classes as usual, seemingly unaffected by the rumors of war swirling outside. However, it was evident that attendance had noticeably dwindled in every class. The noble children had mostly vanished, with those from more prestigious families leaving the earliest. Whether they had been sent out of the city or had simply found safe havens within it was anyone’s guess.
As a result, the topics of casual conversations among those remaining shifted from the imminent threat of war to gossip about whose younger son had left yesterday and which royal envoy had come to fetch more people today—stuff like that.
And among those still present, discussions were peppered with a hint of envy.
Strictly speaking, the Royal Academy was considered a relatively safe haven. With an assembly of many esteemed foreign nobles and notable figures, it was a jewel in the world of education, earning significant support from the Holy Church. Anyone would think twice before trying to attack this place; it was arguably more important than St. Zayeli Cathedral.
Yet, despite this, the privileged still didn’t trust their safety. In their minds, countless “what-ifs” led them to send their children off to what they believed would be the safest spots, even if those places might be less secure than here. They refused to place their hopes in others.
Leaning on others meant being at the mercy of their whims, especially in turbulent times.
It’s one of the reasons why the powerful remain powerful—a sharp understanding of these matters.
As for the four girls of Class 1504, myself included, none of us left in the end. Sophia’s reason for staying was remarkably brave; when her family came to fetch her, she slipped away to a spot even we couldn’t find, much to the utter frustration of her regal mother, who scolded Sophia for being ignorant, arrogant, immature, and unreasonable as she stormed off. We could only awkwardly smile and wave goodbye.
Daisy hadn’t yet contacted her family. Even if she could, what could her parents, humble farmers in Silgaya, do? So she chose to stay. Sophia did mention her brothers wanting to take Daisy with them, but Daisy politely declined the offer. She preferred the familiarity of her surroundings and the company of those she knew.
And then there was Sarah, who was rather carefree about the whole situation. She didn’t believe war would erupt. Even if it did, she thought it would be all bark and no bite.
“How many Iron Guards are there? Don’t think I don’t know. My father told me that even if you combine all the drivers and male servants in Fulesque Castle, there’s barely over fifty thousand! But they don’t have enough weapons and armor! They think they can just waltz into the Royal City? Cue the laugh track—”
To emphasize her disdain, Sarah made an exaggerated pout. Yet, despite her bravado, I could still see a flicker of worry in her eyes.
Her nonchalance, apart from disbelief in the Iron Guard’s chances, was also a way of building her own confidence. After all, with her father far away in Silgaya and her mother, grandfather, and younger brothers stuck in the city, they had nowhere to go. So when Sophia asked if she wanted to leave, Sarah firmly turned her down.
Thus, the four of us in Class 1504 stayed put, carrying on as usual with meals and sleep together.
Unlike them, however, I had a visit from the principal grandma a few days ago.
She called me to her office, still trembling and looking disoriented, as she fumbled through a lengthy conversation with me. She didn’t ask if I wanted to leave; instead, she repeatedly instructed me to avoid being rash and making impulsive decisions if a siege occurred, recommending I simply observe the situation.
Being part of the Valen Empire’s royal family and a Pope Knight, I could not interfere in the war or politics of Ethanbel without considerable thought. Every word and action of mine needed to remain careful and neutral, lest I end up endangering the future of the Valen Empire or giving enemies lurking in the shadows an excuse to attack. The entente wasn’t public knowledge, and with my father facing war, I could not afford to create rivals for him or bring more enemies to Victoria, so I had to play it safe. Unless there were widespread civilian massacres, participating in combat would land me in front of the Church’s court.
I understood grandma’s words and feigned compliance.
After all, if a Pope Knight could join the battle on a whim, chaos would surely ensue.
The Holy Church granted Pope Knights glory and freedom, but with such blessings came responsibilities and obligations. Not only was I a Pope Knight, but also the daughter of Duke Skarlick. I represented both the Valen Empire and the Church’s stance, so during such sensitive times, I couldn’t let personal emotions drive reckless actions or define a clear political position.
So, I secretly sent equipment to Victoria. This fell under commercial activity; it wouldn’t matter if I got caught—my biggest consequence would be a few sulky remarks from the other side. They couldn’t dare touch me.
Grandma mentioned that if I truly wanted to help the Royal City, it was best to focus my energies on the looming threat of the Abyss. She urged me to cooperate with the Church and with Saint Margaret to eliminate any appearings of the Abyss swiftly. We absolutely could not allow horrific monsters to invade the city at this time; otherwise, the Royal City would truly be in peril.
That was also Victoria’s request.
I accepted it unconditionally.
There was no need for anyone to remind me; I would definitely do my best.
But the problem was, all I could do was wait. Because the Church… or rather, Margaret, had her own plans; she wouldn’t let me over there for now. Additionally, since the Abyss hadn’t appeared yet, my presence wouldn’t be of much use. It was better to stay in the city and prepare just in case.
During this period, I often found myself loitering in the library.
I tried to search for legends or records about dreams or hallucinations, hoping to discover any useful clues to unravel the peculiar happenings in my life recently or to confirm my absurd suspicions—was I being targeted by some strange beings?
I actually found quite a few legends.
There were tales of impoverished drunks dreaming of digging up buckets of gold under bridges, only to be proven right the next day; benevolent kings dreaming of treacherous ministers plotting to k*ll him and seize his kingdoms. The kings took measures, successfully thwarting devious plots… Most tales were clearly pure human fantasies—yet what good did they bring? None.
But there was something interesting.
Legends about dreams or hallucinations were abundant, existing across all times and cultures. The stories varied widely in details. The timing of the events differed, as did the countries and cultures, but they shared one common thread—people ultimately credited such wondrous powers to the gifts of the “God of Wisdom.”
People believed that “dreams” or “hallucinations” were abilities unique to deities. We could only passively accept whatever came, for if the God of Wisdom took notice of you, whether it was a sweet dream or a nightmare depended on whether your character was virtuous and your faith sincere.
But maybe that was just a human fantasy.
In short, I couldn’t find any particularly useful clues in this area. However, I had been well-fed these past days, not feeling drowsy, and each night as I lay in bed, I found my thoughts wandering a lot, which gradually helped me sort out a few things.
Those bizarre dreams. If I disregarded their origins and delved into the information… I thought those were at least remnants of my past memories.
Or rather, experiences.
A dim and dank sickroom, a rusty, bl**d-stained operating table. The incessant drip-drip-drip of an IV line at my ear, the liquid flowing through it resembling diluted bl**d.
All of this was more than just nightmares.
I think… perhaps, back then, during my time of disappearance, after I fell from the cliff, before I became the Abyss, my body was tampered with by those who saved me.
That might be the reason I transformed into Silvya.
Someone did something to me, causing me to become what I am now. Or rather, causing Peilo to become what I am now.
Or perhaps.
I didn’t know the truth, but I could smell a conspiracy.
The Abyss… was perhaps nothing like people imagined.
As for who specifically manipulated me, who that doctor named… whatever at the bottom of the cliff was, and that black cloak hanging in the damp office, who they all were and what they wanted, I still didn’t know.
But I would know.
Because I realized that those lost memories might be, at their core, an unapologetic assault against me and a deep-seated hatred lodged in the recesses of my heart.
If that’s truly the case, then I must remember.
One day.
……….
Today was as calm as ever.
In the large classroom, a sparse number of students sat scattered about.
“…Unlike the Flying Ones who depend solely on their wings and storm, while their bodies are weak and flimsy, the Fairy Clan doesn’t just excel in brewing. They are the kings of the jungle. Strong, adept at combat, and closely bonded with nature. They once were the darlings of the Mother God of Abundance until they turned into bloodthirsty invaders…”
An old man, his beard long and fierce like a spear, lectured at the front. I sat in a corner, biting my fingers out of sheer boredom.
“I heard that last night, the Clive Family had a brief discussion with Her Majesty the Queen.” Sophia, sitting next to me with her head lowered, stated gravely.
“The outcome wasn’t very friendly. Her Majesty’s scorched-earth policy didn’t yield much success, as the other side got a head start and seized most of the supplies. They’re here to take people, but Her Majesty is determined not to let anyone go. It seems like a fight is imminent… On the bright side, it seems there’s some discord within the Iron Guard; the reinforcements that were supposed to arrive are delayed. They only number over ten thousand now, which isn’t that far off from us. Attempting to seize the Royal City is practically a joke…”
I tilted my head in contemplation.
“Sophia.”
“What?”
“Don’t jinx it.”
Confused, Sophia looked at me. “Huh? What do you mean?”
“It’s just—”
I prepared to explain with a pointed finger when a sudden rumbling sound erupted from a distance.
The noise roared like distant thunder, echoing ominously as shouts from a crowd swirled in. Sophia shivered, and then a hush fell over us.
“Wow—”
The classroom erupted with chatter, the old man halted his lecture, and many students stood, craning their necks towards the arched windows. I followed their gazes.
The view from the teaching building was splendid, as this classroom perched at the top of the nine floors. The academy stood in the most bustling part of the Royal City, so casting my eyes out of the large windows, I could take in the vibrant sights of the jade green city.
To the south, beautiful buildings stacked upon each other, with streets sprawling in every direction. People bustled below in a lively throng, looking towards the farthest point—the towering city walls soaring to the skies.
From this distance, the walls looked shrouded in mist. I could tell there were many people there, but the specifics escaped me. At that moment, all I could see were immense fireballs soaring through the sky, trailing brilliant crimson arcs like shooting stars, crashing down and igniting as they fell, casting a bright glow in my sight.
Then came the crash against the city walls.
In an instant, flames shot up high, smoke exploded, and it felt as though the world was silenced in shock.
Boom… boom… boom…
After a long while, the distant thunder finally rolled in, shaking the ground and rattling my ears.
I stood there stunned in the classroom, staring at the vague outlines of the distant city walls, my heart slowly sinking.
So it began…
DONG—, DONG—, DONG—
The distant bell tower began to ring.
