Chapter 99 - The Holy Kingdom (2)

“We seem to run into each other at places like this quite often. I think we first met somewhere like this, too.”

“Well, I am Urgan’s priestess. Of course you run into me here often. I attend plenty of these events.”

“... Oh, right?”

Rania chuckled at his blank response and set down her glass.

‘Good timing. I was getting tired of this.’

To receive divine standing—the qualification that allowed a human to communicate with a god—meant becoming one of the faces of the nation. And that meant enduring all manner of unwanted encounters.

‘A bunch of snakes.’

The people who inhabited that exhausting world, where every single word carried implications, were all snakes wearing masks.

Fortunately, Rania possessed the ability to see through them in an instant.

Urgan’s priestess, Rania A`shan, perceived the world a little differently from other people.

She could see a person’s essence.

To Rania, the world was something in motion, filled with lines of every color. Their colors and shapes varied according to a person’s... “worth.”

Some appeared bright, blazing, and enormous.

Others appeared small and dark.

She had never perceived people as people. Though perhaps she had, back in her barely remembered childhood, when she had lived as an ordinary human.

Thus, the man she saw before her, Aiden Kellermain, was an exceedingly unusual case.

‘... Is that what a human face looks like?’

He was the first person she had ever seen “as he was,” rather than as points and lines. Everyone else looked like a walking mass of flame, but this man alone looked human, just as she did.

She felt an instinctive urge to reach out and touch him. She was fairly sure she had done just that at their first meeting.

So she had recognized from the very start that he was special.

Even so, one thing surprised her upon seeing him again after so long.

‘You’ve grown a lot.’

The thought came as she watched the golden flame pulsing inside his body.

When they had last met, it had been so small that it looked like a mere point. That had been only a few months ago, yet now it was unmistakably larger—a flame the size of a fist.

‘That rate of growth is absurd.’

Of course, in terms of sheer size, plenty of people harbored much larger flames inside them. The Lionhearted and Deathwish, who were always with him, were immediate examples, as were the Emperor and the finest warriors of the Great Plains.

Their light blazed so brightly that looking at them hurt her eyes, making it difficult even to keep them open.

But for a light like that to grow from a mere point to this size was normally all but impossible.

Some did reach such heights through an extraordinary stroke of fortune. But those people had already set foot in the world of superhumans.

Aiden Kellermain had lived a life entirely unrelated to that world.

Gaining proficiency as a beginner was always difficult, whatever the discipline. Just as someone who had trained their body all their life and resumed exercising after a long break faced a different level of difficulty from a complete novice trying to get in shape.

And yet.

A man like that had achieved this much.

In only a few months.

“...”

Rania gazed at him in silence.

‘You must have been through so much.’

Considering what could have driven him to grow so much in so short a time, that seemed the most fitting thought.

One could simply attribute it to talent, extraordinary good fortune, or quick, efficient training.

But in her eyes, he had not grown so quickly without a care, simply because he could.

He had shouldered a burden that demanded such rapid growth, and he must have gritted his teeth and forced himself to achieve it.

He must have been thinking about what would happen if he did not.

‘A lunatic who swore to Urgan that he would save the world with his own two hands.’

Such things were plain to Rania’s eyes, which could perceive his essence.

A strange man who had fashioned a burden that even a peerless hero would struggle to bear, then offered it to a god.

And yet the “color” she saw in him was not so extraordinary that he would volunteer for such a task.

At his root, this man was ordinary and pastoral. He had no interest in fighting. He was probably the sort who could find happiness simply by holing up at home and sleeping the day away.

And yet.

She did not know why he had made that vow, but because of it, he continued doing things that ran counter to his very nature.

It must be exhausting. It must be hard.

And it would only grow harder.

“So, what can I help you with?”

“... Pardon?”

“I told you when we first met, remember? That I’d help you if you managed to stay alive.”

Rania gave a small chuckle and continued.

“You don’t look dead to me.”

“... You actually meant that?”

Of course she had.

Rania genuinely felt sorry for this man. She still did, and she would continue to do so.

Without a doubt.

That feeling must have been what prompted her to say those words as soon as she saw him back then.

She was certainly aware that it was a form of affection.

‘... It is dangerous.’

Wasn’t this supposedly the most dangerous sort of feeling? They said it could easily develop into something akin to maternal affection.

As Rania mulled that over, chuckling inwardly, he spoke.

“... Well, then, I won’t turn down the offer.”

Despite his hesitant tone, Aiden immediately presented his request.

“Are there any particularly noteworthy participants in this succession ceremony?”

That was easy enough.

She only had to look over the people whose colors were burning brightest in the room.

‘They certainly are a distinctive bunch.’

Aiden soon let out a wry laugh. The thought came naturally as he looked over the people Rania had pointed out.

Indeed, every one of them was difficult to forget once seen.

‘Looks like things haven’t changed too much from the original.’

The lineup did not differ greatly from what Aiden knew.

But if he had to pick out those who stood out most...

‘The first prince, Alester Pansius Craven.’

A man sitting quietly in a pristine white dress uniform. A slightly weary smile, dark circles under his eyes, and glasses. He looked for all the world like an exhausted researcher, but he was currently the leading candidate to become the next Pontiff.

‘The third princess, Mylène Lazuli Craven.’

Heavy full plate armor. As though that stifling outfit were not enough, chains were wound tightly around her body. At that level, the anachronistic look almost became avant-garde enough to be stylish.

... And, of course, as the title of princess indicated, the person in that getup was a woman.

‘The twelfth prince, Julius Epsilon Craven.’

Then there was the white-haired man yawning with slightly drooping eyes. The many medals adorning him were impressive. His reserves of divinity were a little below the others’, but as his attire suggested, this man had the most impressive “achievements” among the candidates.

If he had to name the three most likely to see the succession ceremony through to the end, it would probably be those three.

“Don’t you mean four?”

“Pardon?”

“I think you have the best chance of winning.”

“...”

“It would be fun, at least. If you became Pontiff.”

“... I don’t want to, though. I don’t think anything good would come of it.”

“Then come up with a reason. You’ll be participating anyway.”

... That was true.

Aiden changed the subject with a rueful smile.

“My lady, could I ask you a favor?”

It was good news that the participants in the ceremony were mostly the same people he knew, but while he was here, he might as well get a little more help that only she could provide.

Normally, he would have to meet every candidate individually and probe deep into their inner selves.

With her here, however, he could spare himself all that trouble.

“Your divine standing lets you see people’s essence, doesn’t it?”

“It does?”

“Please remember the ‘state’ of everyone here.”

Rania tilted her head.

“Remember it?”

“Yes.”

Aiden answered with a grin.

“Someone is going to ‘change’ later. And not for the better.”

Given what Aiden knew of Act 2’s “traitor,” that was something he absolutely needed to check.

There would probably be something hidden inside that person’s body.

With Rania’s help, he could probably find it quite easily.

“Well. If you mean someone whose color looks bad, I can already see one.”

“Pardon?”

“Over there.”

He looked where Rania pointed.

... Indeed, the sight unfolding there made her assessment perfectly understandable.

It was Katya.

As she sat there, still and vacant, someone was pouring a steady trickle of liquid over her head.

At some point, everyone had stopped their conversations and turned to watch in silence. Their faces were filled with bewilderment. It was utterly out of place at a gathering governed by etiquette and formality.

“...”

Aiden drew a deep breath.

No.

Well.

He already knew what he had to do. But first...

“... My lady.”

Aiden spoke in a flat voice.

“Hm?”

“I’m not particularly familiar with the Holy Kingdom’s internal affairs. Why would someone do that here?”

“My guess? Publicity.”

“Publicity?”

“Ultimately, the succession ceremony is about showing the people how superior you are. Whoever stands out has a bit of an advantage, no matter how they manage it.”

“What does that have to do with abusing my friend?”

“Princess Katya is everyone’s punching bag in the Holy Kingdom.”

Indeed.

She might nominally be the second princess, but she was treated far worse than even peripheral royals who were entirely outside the line of succession.

To everyone else, she was a convenient hunting dog.

A monster. An alien thing. Something revolting.

“She’s an easy target with no consequences, so they’re deliberately creating a spectacle. As long as they produce good results later, they can put a positive spin on it.”

“...”

After listening in silence, Aiden took another deep breath.

“So they’re doing this to get in some vigorous self-promotion before the succession ceremony begins. Understood.”

Rania watched him with a faint smile.

Again, her vision could render all sorts of information about a person visible. And in that respect...

“My personality has been changing in some strange ways lately.”

The chemical reaction occurring inside Aiden’s body was more than enough to pique her interest.

How curious.

If she were to compare it to a song, the air emanating from Aiden was pastoral folk music.

Something that cherished peace, family, and taking things easy.

And yet.

The moment someone close to him was mistreated, the air emanating from him became...

‘... Death metal, was it? I’ve heard there’s a genre like that.’

Could someone’s entire air really change so abruptly?

Rania chuckled and asked,

“What are you going to do?”

“If they want publicity, I should help them out.”

Aiden rose calmly to his feet.

“I’ll make sure every last person in the Holy Kingdom of Craven knows about them.”

He most certainly intended to.