The Knights' headquarters was on the north side of the Palace Square.
The two walked along the stone path, keeping an arm's length between them.
Esper walked behind Constantine, the sound of her leather boots on the ground so quiet that it was completely drowned out by the clanking of the tin can in front of her.
The Holy Sword hovered behind her, its gray aura almost invisible in the sunlight, but the blade occasionally reflected a thin beam of light that swept across the faces of passersby, drawing gasps of awe.
The pedestrians cleared a path for Esper, staring at the sword floating in midair and the black-haired girl, stepping aside with faces full of awe.
“...What are you looking at?”
Esper's voice squeezed through her teeth.
The silver-armored back in front of her did not turn around.
“Looking at the Hero.”
“Don't call me that.”
“The Holy Sword recognizes its master. According to the Church's scriptures, the wielder is the Hero. It's not a matter of what I choose to call you.”
“That sword followed me on its own. I didn't want it.”
“It chose you.”
“I didn't choose it.”
Constantine paused.
“...Esper.”
“What?”
“Before you became an adventurer, what did you do?”
Esper stared at Constantine's back, focusing on the small scars on his silver armor left from battles with demons.
“...I came from the east.”
“Where in the east?”
“The Plains of Holy Remains.”
“Where on the Plains of Holy Remains?”
“...A village by the roadside.”
Constantine did not press further.
He turned his head slightly, giving Esper a deep, intensely conflicted look.
What was he looking at? The paleness of her skin? The shape of her pupils? Or something else entirely?
She didn't know.
“We're here,”
Constantine said.
The main gates of the Knights' headquarters stood open before them.
Inside was a spacious stone courtyard surrounded by cloisters, the stone pillars of which were carved with relief sculptures of prominent figures throughout the history of the Church of Radiance.
A year's time had given the Church of Radiance ample reason to construct these reliefs in Avalon to gather Vow Power.
A few young knights who were polishing their armor stood up in unison to salute when they saw Constantine. But when their gaze fell on Esper behind him and the floating Holy Sword, their polishing cloths slipped from their hands, cluttering to the floor in unison.
“C-Commander! That's...!!!”
“Prepare the reception room. No need for tea.”
Constantine's tone was as casual as if he were talking about the weather. The young knights exchanged glances for two seconds before scattering in a near-comical rush.
The reception room was on the second floor of the headquarters.
The room was small, containing a long oak table, six chairs, and an oil painting hanging on the wall.
It depicted a giant sun and a girl with silver-white hair reaching her hand out toward it.
Constantine gestured toward the chairs with his eyes, and Esper obediently sat down.
The Holy Sword hovered directly above the back of her chair, occasionally spinning in circles or doing backflip-like maneuvers, seemingly trying to make Esper happy.
Esper ignored it completely, but the look in Constantine's eyes only grew more complex.
Constantine decided to put these thoughts aside for now.
He sat down, propping his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together.
“Before the people from the Church arrive, I want to ask you a few questions. You don't have to answer, but I highly recommend you do.”
“...Ask.”
“Your strength is not Rank Three.”
“...What do you mean?”
“Even if we don't mention the aura you released when you ran, how do you explain a speed that far exceeds the average level of a Rank Three?”
Esper pursed her lips tightly.
“...Rank Five.”
Esper spoke.
“I registered as a Rank C because I didn't want any trouble.”
This was a lie, but she no longer blushed when lying.
Constantine nodded, not pressing further on the matter.
“Why were you able to draw the Holy Sword?”
“...I don't know why either.”
This was the truth.
Constantine stared at her for a long time—so long that Esper began to get goosebumps—before he finally spoke slowly:
“I once thought that person would be me.”
He laid those words gently before Esper, then averted his gaze.
“Her Holiness the Pope has arrived.”
Footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor.
They were very light, sounding like bare feet stepping on the floor.
The sound grew from faint to clear, and then the door to the reception room was pushed open from the outside.
A tiny figure stepped out from behind the doorframe.
Esper almost threw up.
It was an incredibly small, young figure.
She was nearly two heads shorter than Esper. Standing at the doorway, the space above her head made the doorframe look like a cavernous void.
Silver-white hair like liquid moonlight cascaded from the top of her head down past her ankles, dragging along the stone floor.
Golden pupils shone incredibly bright in a face that looked no older than twelve, like two miniature suns stuffed into her eye sockets.
A platinum Pope's robe wrapped around her petite body, its hem pooling on the ground and blending with her silver-white hair until it was impossible to tell fabric from hair.
A massive crown sat atop her head, clearly a size too large for her small skull, but somehow secured so that it didn't tilt.
Beatrice.
Pope of the Church of Radiance. Human. Ninth Rank.
The Eternal Girl, King of Holy Spirits, Terminator of the Long Night, Daughter of Psalms and Ballads, the Maiden Who Plucks the Blazing Sun.
The holder of 『Faith』.
Constantine stood up and knelt on one knee.
“Your Holiness.”
Esper did not kneel, because her entire body had frozen. She even had to force down the churning sensation in her stomach.
Beatrice was looking at her.
Looking into her eyes.
Looking at what lay beneath the disguise.
“Mmh~”
The sound slipped from her small lips, soft and gentle, carrying a dignity and benevolence that did not match her apparent age.
“So it's you.”
Her bare feet stepped on the hem of her robe as she walked toward Esper, step by step.
Close. Too close.
That upturned, inhumanly beautiful face was less than a foot away from Esper's chin.
Those two suns gazed up at her from below, making her feel as though she would be purified in the very next second.
“You're even cuter than Beya imagined.”
Esper opened her mouth, finally speaking in a raspy voice.
“...Your Holiness.”
“There's no need to be so formal. Just call me Beya.”
She stood on her tiptoes, and a small, fair hand slipped out of the wide sleeve of her robe, pressing down on Esper's head.
Her fingertips were cold. Unnaturally cold.
Like a corpse that had been dead for a long time but had not decayed.
Esper had only felt a similar aura from scavengers, yet this was decisively different.
“Since the Holy Sword has chosen you, then you are the Hero.”
She patted Esper's head, her touch even gentler than Rafina's.
The blazing suns reflected Esper's expression, causing the smile on her face to deepen a fraction more.
“Welcome, Hero.”
Beatrice withdrew her hand, took a step back, turned, and walked toward the door.
She paused at the doorway, turning her head, a single golden eye peeking out from behind her silver-white bangs.
“Constantine.”
“Yes.”
“Beya will be back in a bit. Take good care of our Hero. She looks like she really needs it.”
The footsteps faded down the corridor. The sound of bare feet on the stone tiles was incredibly, incredibly faint.
Silence fell over the reception room once more.
Esper's fingers slowly clenched beneath the table, her nails digging into the crevices of her old calluses, the pain sharp and clear.
Constantine rose from his kneeling position.
“Her Holiness has recognized your status as the Hero. There will be an official investiture ceremony in a few days. Until then, you need to remain at the headquarters.”
“...Can I refuse?”
“Do you know what you are saying?”
Esper closed her eyes.
Rate on N.U.
