Chapter 2: The Will of God

It was a serene space, as if time itself had come to a halt.

Carpets, paintings, a dresser… tasteful furnishings were thoughtfully arranged, and the dim bedroom was surrounded by bookshelves on all sides.

The faint light from a candelabrum on the side table illuminated a woman reclining in an armchair, her figure emerging from the darkness.

Even in this twilight, her luxurious golden hair burned vividly in the eyes, and her bewitchingly beautiful features, so meticulously refined, sent shivers down the spine. Her alluring form was draped in a black gothic dress.

It was Celica Arfonia.

Celica, with a stole draped over her shoulders, was silently reading a book.

Beside her stood a canopied bed, where a young girl slept peacefully.

Celica reading her book and the sleeping girl… the room was complete in itself, a space of perfect harmony.

At that moment.

Knock, knock… the sound of a knock disrupted the perfect harmony.

“Celica, I’m coming in.”

The one who opened the bedroom door and stepped inside was Glenn. Perhaps preparing for a journey, he carried an assortment of books and clothes under his arm.

“So, like I mentioned before, I’m heading out of Fejite starting tomorrow.”

“Oh, for that magic festival, right? Hmph, go ahead and have fun. …Do your best, yeah?”

Celica closed her book and glanced at Glenn.

“Still, the head coach of the representative team… you’ve really climbed the ranks, haven’t you? Your mom’s so proud.”

“Shut it! I don’t need this kind of promotion! Anyway, since I won’t be around, you better be careful, got it? Right now, you’re… well, not exactly in top shape, are you?”

“Yare yare… to think my own son would worry about me this much. I must be getting old…”

“Ha! That’s not what I meant! I’m not worried about you—I’m worried about everyone else who gets dragged into your reckless stunts! Just… behave yourself, alright?”

As they exchanged their usual blunt banter, Glenn’s gaze slid to the side.

“By the way… she really hasn’t woken up, has she?”

Glenn’s eyes settled on the young girl sleeping soundly on the bed, her breaths soft and steady.

She was the mysterious girl they had found at the Avesta Mountains in Snowria, after their battle with the Silver Dragon. Despite the considerable time that had passed, there was no sign of her waking.

“Well, we’ll take it slow with her. I’m on leave anyway.”

Celica, however, seemed unconcerned, her tone light and carefree.

“Speaking of… that magic festival is being held in the Free City of Milano, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. The famous Milano. Kinda like an overseas trip, huh? Jealous?”

Glenn teased Celica with a playful smirk, but…

“Milano, huh… I see, Milano…”

For some reason, Celica’s eyes grew distant, as if she were recalling something, her voice a soft murmur.

“Hm? Something up with Milano?”

“Huh? You don’t know? Milano’s where I used to…”

Celica began to say something, but…

“Eh, never mind. It’s ancient history anyway.”

…she abruptly changed her mind and fell silent.

“…? I don’t get it, but I’m leaving the rest to you, alright?”

“Yeah, leave it to me. You go enjoy your little overseas adventure.”

“It’s not a vacation, but… fine, look forward to some souvenirs.”

With that exchange,

Glenn left Celica’s room.

Dawn broke, and early morning arrived.

“Nnn~!”

Leaving the newly built Arfonia residence behind, Glenn filled his lungs with the crisp, fresh morning air and stretched.

Then, he began walking through the quiet, dimly lit streets of Fejite.

His destination was a certain park on the outskirts of Fejite.

Today was the day they would depart for Milano, but there was still plenty of time before the meeting point.

So why was he heading to such a place so early in the morning, empty-handed, you ask?

“Haa…! Haa…! Zeh…! Zeh…!”

There, in the park, was Maria, running laps with intense focus.

Gone was her usual playful, boisterous demeanor. Her expression was one of pure determination.

Despite her labored breathing, her eyes shone with a resolute light, revealing Maria’s unwavering commitment. Beads of sweat dripped from her forehead, catching the morning sun and sparkling brightly.

“Zeh…! Zeh…! Haa…! Haa…!”

For someone who loved cute, fashionable things, this was an unusually gritty side of Maria.

Yet, even so, she was beautiful in this moment.

And then—

“Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine…”

Rumia stood nearby, holding a pocket watch, timing Maria’s laps.

Maria didn’t let up until the very end, maintaining her enhanced physical abilities with White Magic [Physical Boost] as she dashed past Rumia, collapsing in exhaustion.

“Zeh…!? Zeh…! Geh!? Goh!”

Drenched in sweat, utterly exhausted, Maria sprawled on the ground.

Rumia approached her with a delighted smile and said,

“Wow, that was amazing, Maria! A new record! You hit the goal Sensei set for you. Great job!”

“Haa… haa… geh… r-really!? Y-yay… I finally did it, Rumia-senpai!”

Forgetting her fatigue, Maria sprang to her feet, grabbed Rumia’s hands, and bounced with joy.

“This is all thanks to you, Rumia-senpai! Thank you so, so much for everything!”

“Haha, come on… I just gave you a few pointers, that’s all…”

Rumia blushed, smiling shyly.

Truth be told, Maria Luther was indeed an exceptional student.

Her mana capacity and density were remarkable for a first-year, especially in white magic, where her knowledge and technical skill were at a level unimaginable for someone of her grade.

(And more than that, she’s such a hard worker…)

Glenn watched Maria from a distance, lost in thought.

Maria’s abilities as a mage bore the mark of someone who had spent her entire life tirelessly pursuing a goal, honing herself with relentless effort and discipline.

(She acts all goofy in front of others, but behind the scenes, she’s dead serious… that’s why, no matter how annoying she can be, you can’t help but like her.)

However, Maria had struggled with physical enhancement magic, which had been a significant hurdle for her in preparing for the magic festival.

Glenn’s own physical enhancement techniques were tailored to his highly unconventional fighting style, making them too specialized and impractical to teach others.

(But Rumia, unlike me, uses perfectly balanced, clean, and efficient physical enhancement techniques…)

In terms of sheer skill with physical enhancement magic, Rumia surpassed even Sistine. Though her lack of combat experience and instincts meant she couldn’t outmatch Sistine in a fight, her technique was impeccable.

(Leaving Maria’s training to Rumia was the right call.)

Thanks to Rumia’s guidance, Maria’s physical enhancement techniques had been refined beautifully, making Glenn’s job much easier. All he had to do was drill the proper movements into her.

Satisfied with how things had turned out, Glenn smirked and approached the two.

“Ah!? Glenn-sensei!”

Noticing Glenn’s arrival, Maria hurriedly wiped the sweat from her face with a towel, straightened her posture, and put on a composed expression.

“Phew! Good—phew!—morning, Sensei—phew!—how do you—phew!—do!?”

Her breathing was still ragged, making her sound utterly winded.

It seemed Maria always wanted to look cool in front of Glenn.

“…Don’t push yourself.”

“Good morning, Sensei.”

While Glenn gave Maria a half-lidded, exasperated look, Rumia greeted him with a wry smile.

“Morning. Looks like Maria barely managed to hit the quota I set for her.”

“Hmph, of course I did! I’m the kind of girl who gets things done! Praise me, Sensei!”

“Good job, Rumia. You did great coaching this dummy.”

“Praise me, not Rumia-senpai, Sensei!?”

As Glenn patted Rumia’s head, a teary-eyed Maria playfully pounded his side.

“Ugh! I worked so hard to impress the Sensei I admire, and this is what I get!? Do you hate me that much!?”

“Yeah, yeah, you worked super hard. There, there, good job,” Glenn said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“That’s so half-hearted!?”

Rumia watched Glenn and Maria’s banter with a soft giggle, her eyes warm, as if she were looking at a younger sister.

“By the way, Sensei! I met the quota you set, so you have to grant me one wish, right!? Right!?”

Maria’s eyes sparkled as she leaned toward Glenn eagerly.

“Huh? Did I make a promise like that?”

“You totally did! That’s too cruel, even for you!”

Maria, teary-eyed again, started smacking Glenn’s chest lightly.

“Haha, come on, Sensei, don’t tease her…” Rumia said with a laugh.

“Alright, alright, I got it… Geez, I didn’t expect you to actually pull it off. I kinda threw that challenge at you thinking it’d be impossible.”

Scratching his head, Glenn responded reluctantly, prompted by Rumia’s gentle nudge.

“So? What do I gotta do? Just so you know, like I said before, nothing impossible, got it?”

“I know, I know! But I’m not cashing in my wish right now! I’m saving it for when the time’s right!”

“What a pain.”

Glenn let out a deep sigh at Maria’s smug expression.

“Just wait and see what kind of wish I come up with… hehe, look forward to it, Sensei!”

Maria puffed out her modest chest, grinning triumphantly.

“Whatever. Anyway, you two, wrap it up. We’re heading to Milano today, right?”

“Aaaah!? Oh, right! Oh nooo!? Now that you mention it, I haven’t prepared anything for the trip!?”

“…Seriously?”

As Glenn stared in disbelief, Maria frantically started to run off.

But then, she suddenly stopped, turned back to face Glenn, and gave a polite bow followed by a crisp salute.

“Glenn-sensei! Rumia-senpai! Thank you so, so much for all your guidance and encouragement! I’m going to give it my all at the magic festival!”

With a wink,

Maria finally dashed off without looking back.

“Geez.”

Glenn watched Maria’s retreating figure, shrugging his shoulders.

Strangely, he didn’t feel bad about it.

“Hehe… you know, Sensei, Maria’s pretty cute, isn’t she?”

Rumia said to Glenn, giggling softly.

“…Yeah, she’s like a hurricane.”

Glenn brushed off Rumia’s comment with a wry remark.

“Come on, Rumia. You should head home too. I’ll walk you back.”

“Hehe, thank you, Sensei.”

And so, Glenn and Rumia set off together toward home.

The Rezalia Kingdom.

A vast monarchical nation occupying the central-northern region of the North Selford Continent.

From the perspective of the Alzano Empire, located at the continent’s northwestern edge, Rezalia lies to the east, separated by the towering mountain range known as the “Dragon’s Spine,” which stretches endlessly from north to south. Its landmass is roughly three to four times larger than the empire’s.

Comprising seven domains—Saint Heles, Enokia, Alfsta, Karat, Hanberry, Dracross, and Ierial—it spans subarctic climates in the north and temperate zones in the south, with the Elizares Church’s Canon faction (commonly called the “Old Faith”) as its state religion.

Officially, the kingdom operates under a traditional feudal system, where the king and local lords are bound by mutual obligations of governance and loyalty. However, the reality is quite different.

The Elizares Church’s Canon faction—known as the “Old Faith”—is deeply woven into the kingdom’s rites of marriage, birth, and death, forming a robust foundation of faith. The St. Elizares Church’s Papal Authority, which oversees this faith, wields immense power, effectively supervising and acting on behalf of the royal family and local lords, making Rezalia a de facto centralized theocratic state.

At the heart of the Church’s domain, Ierial, lies the papal stronghold.

In the capital, the Holy City of Farnelia, stands the St. Philippo Grand Cathedral, the largest cathedral in the world and the headquarters of the Papal Authority.

At this moment, in the cathedral’s worship council chamber, the most influential members of the College of Cardinals—the highest decision-making body of the Papal Authority—had gathered since morning, locked in a heated, deadlocked debate.

“I oppose this!” roared Cardinal Archibald Ambis, one of the prominent cardinals, slamming his fist on the table. “Do you truly intend to pursue peace with that empire at the upcoming summit during the magic festival!?”

The cardinals around him joined in, their voices rising in agreement.

“They’re depraved heretics! Servants of the devil himself!”

“Exactly! To sign an equal peace treaty without correcting their misguided faith is unthinkable!”

Then, from the opposite side of the room, Bishop Cardinal Fais Cardis rose calmly to his feet.

Bishop Cardinal Fais was a strikingly beautiful man, clad in a simple cassock.

With flowing golden hair, a face as perfectly sculpted as a classical statue, and flawless skin, he hardly seemed a man past forty—a true vision of elegance.

“Indeed, you are correct,” Fais said, his voice as clear and melodious as a choral hymn.

“At this summit, we will put an end to the enmity between the empire and the kingdom. The time has come for us to move beyond distinctions of Old Faith and New Faith. It is an era where we must join hands.”

“Preposterous! To deliver holy judgment upon those heretics is the will of God!”

“Do you dare defy the divine will!?”

The hardline cardinals erupted in outrage, their voices shaking the chamber.

To their fervor, Fais responded coolly, quoting scripture:

“‘Those without heart shall be judged by God. Man must not judge man.’”

“We are not gods, are we, Cardinal Grave?”

“You soft-hearted impudent—!”

With that, the chamber descended into a chaotic storm of theological debate.

The hardline priests and cardinals, faces flushed with passion, shouted their interpretations of scripture.

As a forum for discussing national policy, it was utterly barren.

Yet Fais, undeterred, continued to appeal to them with steadfast patience.

“I will say it as many times as needed: our overemphasis on faith has led us to reckless policies of isolation, severed diplomatic ties, religious purges, and wars. These have pushed our nation to the brink of collapse.

The Rezalia royal family and lords no longer possess the authority or capability to govern, leaving the Papal Authority as the sole guiding force. But even that is reaching its limit. For the future, cooperation with nations of differing faiths is essential. To achieve that, we must first—”

“Silence, you fool! Serving God and faith is far more important than such trifles!”

“Indeed! Besides, all these petty issues would be resolved instantly if we simply annexed the empire!”

“Quite so! We must rally the people for further ‘offerings’ and reorganize the crusade—!”

(Why can’t they see that such a course is impossible? These old fools…)

Fais’s refined features darkened with exhaustion as he let out a sigh.

True, the kingdom boasted three times the territory and population of the empire.

In simplistic terms, war is a game of numbers—a clear path to victory.

But the empire had exceptional leaders, advanced magical technology, a formidable military, a world-leading economy, and—one of the Six Heroes, Celica Arfonia.

(Of course, we have those two who could stand against Celica… but the outcome of a war isn’t decided by one or two heroes alone. If our exhausted kingdom clashed with the empire, which is soaring with momentum, neither side would emerge unscathed. Mutual destruction is certain…)

That was why Fais acted.

To save the Rezalia Kingdom, to which he owed so much, he had embraced the heretical “Conciliation Faction” within the Papal Authority, working tirelessly in secret.

Behind the scenes, he had been in contact with Queen Alicia VII of the Alzano Empire, seeking a path toward peace and cooperation. He had narrowly escaped traps set by the hardline faction, who sought to annex the empire by force, and had faced heresy trials and assassination attempts more than once.

(But finally… my lifelong dream is starting to take shape…)

“Everyone, please, calm yourselves.”

At that moment, a single voice from the chairman’s seat silenced the chaotic room as if doused with water.

The speaker was an elderly man clad in an exceptionally ornate priestly robe.

Despite his advanced age, he had a robust build, a gentle expression befitting a kindly grandfather, and an aura of profound virtue that seemed to radiate from within.

“I support Bishop Cardinal Fais Cardis’s proposal. No father preaches belief over hunger. Even if this peace is achieved, our sacred faith will remain untarnished. …All is according to the Lord’s guidance.”

“…His Holiness, Pope Funeral…!?”

Indeed, this grandfatherly figure was none other than Pope Funeral Hauser, the supreme leader of the St. Elizares Church’s Papal Authority.

Appointed as a cardinal eight years ago, he had risen through the ranks with his exceptional ability and virtue, gaining significant influence within the College of Cardinals. Four years ago, in the papal conclave, he had secured the papacy—a truly remarkable figure.

The recent rise of the Conciliation Faction, led by Fais, owed much to Pope Funeral’s understanding and support.

Within the St. Elizares Church’s Papal Authority, the pope wielded immense authority and influence.

With Pope Funeral siding with Bishop Cardinal Fais, the debate’s outcome was effectively decided—

“…Phew, that was quite a nerve-racking ordeal…”

After the College of Cardinals meeting concluded, Fais sat in the pope’s office, letting out a sigh of relief.

“To have come this far with the empire only to miss the summit on the day of… that would’ve been no laughing matter.”

“Well done, Bishop Cardinal Fais Cardis.”

Pope Funeral spoke warmly, as if to commend Fais’s efforts.

“This is all thanks to you, Your Holiness.”

“No, no, I merely gave a slight push. Though it was a close vote, the Conciliation Faction’s victory is the result of your tireless efforts. Your desire for peace prevailed.”

“Even so, without you, we could never have come this far. Your suppression of the hardline faction has kept the kingdom and empire from war thus far. I’m truly grateful that it was you, not Cardinal Archibald, who won the conclave four years ago.”

“Haha, that brings back memories. Back then, as a newcomer cardinal, my victory was called a miracle, mocked by those around me.”

Funeral smiled gently, recalling the past.

“But… we must remain vigilant, Bishop Cardinal Fais.”

“…Yes, I understand completely.”

Fais nodded quietly at Funeral’s sudden shift in tone.

To Fais, Funeral spoke as if to confirm once more.

“Cardinal Archibald… the most hardline figure among the hawks aiming for the empire’s military annexation, a truly exceptional man wielding immense power, and the sharpest mind among the radicals. He stands at the forefront of those opposing peace.

He has relentlessly driven the religious purification policy to repeated success, and his supporters within the Papal Court are numerous. What’s more, he’s an ambitious man still eyeing the papal throne with fierce determination, shrouded in dark rumors. Even the sudden death of the previous pope four years ago… some say he was involved behind the scenes.”

“There’s no proof, of course. But the circumstances were far too convenient.”

“On the day of the summit, anything could happen. Fais-dono, I urge you to exercise the utmost caution. The future of our Rezalia Kingdom rests on your shoulders.”

“Yes, I understand completely.”

“And… there’s one more matter of concern.”

With that, Funeral handed Fais a single report.

“What’s this?”

“The list of the imperial delegation for the magic festival… held concurrently with the summit.”

“The delegation? What does this have to do with…?”

As Fais, puzzled, skimmed the names on the list,

a certain name caught his eye. He froze in disbelief, his expression hardening as he stared at it.

“Impossible!? Why is this girl here!? Funeral-sama, this girl is undoubtedly…!?”

“Yes, we conducted a discreet investigation. She is exactly who you think she is.”

“…!?”

“A coincidence. By all logic, it’s a coincidence, but can we truly dismiss it as such? At this time, at this precise moment, for this girl to stand in that place… is it really…?”

“I want to believe it’s a coincidence… but…”

“Indeed. A ‘coincidence’ can easily be orchestrated into an ‘inevitability’ with a bit of maneuvering. Especially when the art of magic is involved… particularly so.”

“You’re right… we must remain vigilant.”

With grave expressions, Funeral and Fais spoke.

“Funeral-sama, from now on, let us proceed assuming the worst possible scenarios. If this is not a coincidence… if someone’s will is at play, orchestrating events… a misstep could lead to far worse than a mere rift between the kingdom and the empire.”

“…The world could end.”

“…”

The two fell silent, the air heavy. Not a trace of jest or falsehood colored their tense expressions.

“…Funeral-sama.”

“Yes, I understand. We’ll deploy those two.”

“Our church’s trump card… I’d prefer not to provoke the empire at such a time, but we have no choice. This must be done discreetly, peacefully, and swiftly…”

And so, Fais and Funeral’s discussion, searching for their next moves, stretched past midnight—

—At the same moment.

“Hmph. Utterly ridiculous.”

A man clad in opulent priestly robes spat the words irritably in his office.

He was a man whose beauty rivaled Fais’.

Though he appeared far younger than his forty-odd years, unlike the gentle Fais, his eyes were sharp, his expression perpetually stern, exuding an aggressive demeanor that repelled others. A faintly sickly pallor lent him an almost morbid air.

Cardinal Archibald.

The foremost figure of the hardline faction within the St. Elizares Church’s Papal Court.

“To think of joining hands with those vile heretics—both Bishop Cardinal Fais and His Holiness Funeral have lost their minds. If only I hadn’t lost the papal election four years ago…”

The memory was more than bittersweet—it was a humiliating wound.

The papal election four years ago… Archibald had pulled every string, discreetly “eliminating” obstacles, certain of an unshakable victory—an overwhelming one at that.

Yet, he lost by a narrow margin. To Funeral, a mere newcomer among the cardinals.

Even now, he couldn’t comprehend why he lost. It was as if some divine will had pulled strings behind the scenes… an utterly bizarre, incomprehensible defeat.

“Whatever. The past is irrelevant… Oi, Eleanor. Are you there?”

Then,

“Yes, at your service.”

Unnoticed until now, a woman stood in the corner of the room, as if cloaked in darkness itself.

A woman in her twenties, dressed in black mourning clothes. Her endlessly dark eyes swirled with shadow.

Her mere presence seemed to deepen the surrounding darkness. Her name was Eleanor Charlet, a member of the inner circle of The Researchers of Heavenly Wisdom,《Adeptus Order》.

“The outcome?”

“…As planned, she was selected for the imperial delegation.”

At that, Archibald let out a sinister smile.

“Kukuku, terrifying, isn’t it? Your magical arts. To think it would actually come to pass.”

“Indeed, I’m quite astonished myself.”

Eleanor spoke as if in admiration.

“That person had placed a certain magical suggestion on her beforehand. Following that suggestion, she honed her skills of her own volition, and by her own will, she stepped onto the grand stage of the magic festival. Our organization boasts many fearsome mages, but only that person, aside from the Grandmaster, could wield magical arts capable of altering an individual’s life so profoundly.”

Then, Eleanor smiled wryly, yet with a hint of amusement.

“Just in case she wasn’t selected, I had prepared several contingencies to lure her to that place… but as that person predicted, they all proved unnecessary.”

“I see. So this is the power of The Researchers of Heavenly Wisdom. This ‘person’ you speak of… I’d love to meet them sometime.”

Archibald laughed softly, his shoulders trembling with mirth.

To him, Eleanor offered a cautionary word.

“However… while things have gone splendidly thus far, we cannot afford to be complacent. His Holiness Funeral has finally mobilized those two.”

“Hmph… their trump cards, eh?”

At Eleanor’s words, Archibald’s brow twitched.

“They likely don’t believe her presence is a coincidence and are preparing for the worst. The only one who could stand against those two head-on is someone like Celica Arfonia. Even I… would rather avoid clashing with them directly.”

“Tch… Fais and Funeral, those traitors. Heretics who defile the church… always meddling…”

Archibald spat venomously, but

“…Do you think I, of all people, wouldn’t have anticipated their moves?”

“Meaning?”

“Of course, I’ve taken measures. Their trump card poses no threat to us. In fact—those two will become our trump card.”

“…Most reassuring, Your Eminence Cardinal Archibald.”

At Archibald’s confident words, Eleanor gave a faint smile.

“I pray your ambitions are realized. In accordance with the Grandmaster’s will, we, The Researchers of Heavenly Wisdom, will fully support the hardline faction of the St. Elizares Church.”

“Hmph…”

Casting a cold glance at Eleanor, Archibald clicked his tongue inwardly.

(Support, you say? You wicked heretic. Enemy of God. Do you wish to be burned at the stake?)

Yet, it was undeniable that without The Researchers of Heavenly Wisdom’s cooperation, he would never have learned of her existence, which he thought lost.

Her presence was indispensable to achieving Archibald’s ambitions.

(No doubt, you lot plan to manipulate me once I have her in my grasp… but it won’t go your way. I’ll outwit you all.)

Indeed, Archibald had devoted his life to this cause.

The feeble Rezalia royal family and its nobles were already under his control, dancing to his tune.

The only obstacles left were Fais and Funeral. But they, too, would soon be dealt with.

The greatest issue—military power—would be more than resolved once he had her, with strength to spare.

(This world is utterly corrupt. It knows nothing of true faith, of the true God. I will enlighten it. With the might of that《Faith Weapon》…)

A sinister grin twisted Archibald’s lips.

(First, I’ll annihilate the empire’s rotten heretics, annex the empire by force, and unite the divided churches. I’ll claim the throne of the unified Elizares Papacy. With the national power gained, I’ll purify all faiths in this world using the《Faith Weapon》, bringing every nation under the dominion of our St. Elizares Papal Court, governed and managed by true faith. Yes, I will become the savior, the Messiah, who rightly guides and teaches all of humanity in this world—)

Harboring such ambitions,

Archibald bid a respectful farewell to Eleanor as she left the room.

—The Magic Festival.

Behind the ceremony wishing for world peace, myriad schemes were now beginning to stir—